animal of any size. The crops were of great variety,
and wonderfully free from weeds. Most of them
showed fruit of one kind or another, sometimes gourd-like
globes on the top of upright stalks, sometimes clusters
of a sort of nut on vines creeping along the soil,
sometimes a number of pulpy fruits about the size
of an orange hanging at the end of pendulous stalks
springing from the top of a stiff reed-like stem.
One field was bare, its surface of an ochreish colour
deeper than that of clay, broken and smoothed as perfectly
as the surface of the most carefully tended flower-bed.
Across this was ranged a row of birds, differing, though
where and how I had hardly leisure to observe, from
the form of any earthly fowl, about twice the size
of a crow, and with beaks apparently at least as powerful
but very much longer. Extending entirely across
the field, they kept line with wonderful accuracy,
and as they marched across it, slowly and constantly
dug their beaks into the soil as if seeking grubs
or worms beneath the surface. They went on with
their work perfectly undisturbed by our presence.
In the next field was a still odder sight; here grew
gourd-like heads on erect reed-like stems, and engaged
in plucking the ripe purple fruit, carefully distinguishing
them from the scarlet unripened heads, were half-a-score
of creatures which, from their occupation and demeanour,
I took at first to be human; but which, as we approached
nearer, I saw were only about half the size of my
companion, and thickly covered with hair, with bushy
tails, which they kept carefully erect so as not to
touch the ground; creatures much resembling monkeys
in movement, size, and length, and flexibility of
limb, but in other respects more like gigantic squirrels.
They held the stalks of the fruit they plucked in
their mouths, filling with them large bags left at
intervals, and from the manner in which they worked
I suspected that they had no opposable thumbs—that
the whole hand had to be used like the paw of a squirrel
to grasp an object. I pointed to these, directing
my companion’s attention and asking, “What
are they?” “Ambau,” he said, but
apparently without the slightest interest in their
proceedings. Indeed, the regularity and entire
freedom from alarm or vigilance which characterised
their movements, convinced me that both these and
the birds we passed were domesticated creatures, whose
natural instincts had been turned to such account by
human training.
After a few moments more, we came in sight of a regular road, in a direction nearly at right angles to that which followed the course of the river. Like the path, it was constructed of a hard polished concrete. It was about forty paces broad, and in the centre was a raised way about four inches higher than the general surface, and occupying about one-fourth of the entire width. Along the main way on either side passed from time to time with great rapidity light vehicles of shining metal, each having three wheels, one small