obtained.

Seven hundred and eighty-nine kilometres from Campinas--or 982 kil. from
the Atlantic Ocean at Santos--we arrived at the terminal station of the
Mogyana Railway at a place called Araguary, 3,150 ft. above the sea
level--one of the dirtiest and most unpleasant spots on the face of the
earth. The termini of railway lines in newly developed countries seem to
act like filters. Whatever is good passes through; only the impurities or
dregs remain.

CHAPTER IV

The Terminus of the Railway--An Unpleasant Incident--The Purchase
of Animals--On the March with the Caravan

A GREAT crowd had assembled at the station. The train had hardly stopped
when my car was invaded by boisterous people, who embraced me and patted
me on the back in the most approved Brazilian style. Before I could
inquire who they were, one fellow, more boisterous than the others,
informed me that he had purchased a great many mules for me, that he had
engaged men for me, and also procured riding and pack-saddles, harness,
implements, clothing and bedding for the men he had engaged, and I do not
know what else. Everything was paid for. I could return the sum paid out
the next day. Another man said he had already prepared a sumptuous
apartment for me in the best hotel in the town.

When asked who had instructed them to make such arrangements, they were
vague, and on being pressed for an answer gave names of people of whose
existence I was perfectly ignorant. Before I could realize what all this
meant I discovered--much to my annoyance--that all my baggage had been
taken out of the train and had been conveyed to the hotel. I was
therefore compelled to proceed there myself, in the company of my new
"friends," who shouted everything they had to say at the top of their
voices, so that I should not fail to understand. It was already night,
and the streets of the town were in such a terrible condition that the
overladen carriage--there were people on all the seats, on the box and
standing on the steps--nearly turned over on going round corners. The
wheels sank up to their axles in mud.

We pulled up at the hotel door, where another crowd of loafers had
assembled. I was literally dragged into the hotel--for I had become
somewhat reluctant, first on seeing the appearance of the place, then on
being met by waves of a nauseating odour which suggested the
non-existence of sanitary arrangements and worse.

"Come in, come in!... wait here!