The bedrooms join on each side, and here the
passenger may sleep as comfortably as he can, on a wooden platform
covered by a thin straw mat. The v?nda stands in a courtyard, where
the horses are fed. On first arriving, it was our custom to
unsaddle the horses and give them their Indian corn; then, with a
low bow, to ask the senh?r to do us the favour to give us something
to eat. "Anything you choose, sir," was his usual answer. For the
few first times, vainly I thanked providence for having guided us
to so good a man. The conversation proceeding, the case universally
became deplorable. "Any fish can you do us the favour of giving
?"--"Oh no, sir."--"Any soup?"--"No, sir."--"Any bread?"--"Oh no,
sir."--"Any dried meat?"--"Oh no, sir." If we were lucky, by
waiting a couple of hours, we obtained fowls, rice, and farinha. It
not unfrequently happened that we were obliged to kill, with
stones, the poultry for our own supper. When, thoroughly exhausted
by fatigue and hunger, we timorously hinted that we should be glad
of our meal, the pompous, and (though true) most unsatisfactory
answer was, "It will be ready when it is ready." If we had dared to
remonstrate any further, we should have been told to proceed on our
journey, as being too impertinent.
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