It was composed of several hundred pieces, all carved
out of ebony nuts. It had cost her three weeks of constant work. I
embraced and was embraced by almost everybody in the _maloca_, after
which ceremony we went in procession to the canoe that was to take
me down to the Branco River. The Chief bade me a fond farewell, that
forever shall be implanted in my heart. I had lived here weeks among
these cannibal Indians, had enjoyed their kindness and generosity
without charge; I could give them nothing in return and they asked
nothing. I could have stayed here for the rest of my natural life if I
had so desired, but now I was to say good-bye forever. How wonderful
was this farewell! It was my opportunity for acknowledging that the
savage heart is by no means devoid of the feelings and sentiments
that characterise more elevated, so-called civilised individuals.
For the last time I heard the little dog bark, the same that had licked
my face when I fainted in front of the _maloca_ upon my first arrival;
and the large _arara_ screamed in the tree-tops as I turned once more
towards the world of the white man.
The journey was without incident. The wourahli men set me off near the
mouth of the Branco River, at a distance which I covered in less than
five hours by following the banks.
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