other, and presented a neat pattern in black and red all over their bodies, some circles and curved lines occurring on their hips and breasts, while on their faces round spots of a bright vermilion seemed to be the prevailing fashion. The juice of a fruit which stains of a fine purplish-black is often poured on the back of the head and neck, and, trickling all down the back, produces what they, no doubt, consider a very elegant dishabille. These spotted beauties were now engaged in performing the same operation for their husbands and sweet-hearts, some standing, others sitting, and directing the fair artists how to dispose the lines and tints to their liking.
We prepared our supper rather early, and about sunset, just as we had finished, a messenger came to notify to us that the dance had begun, and that the Tushata had sent to request our company. We accordingly at once proceeded to the malocca, and entering the private apartment at the circular end, were politely received by the Tushaua, who was dressed in his shirt and trousers only, and requested us to be seated in maqueiras. After a few minutes' conversation I turned to look at the dancing, which was taking place in the body of the house, in a large clear space round the two central columns. A party of about fifteen or twenty middle-aged men were dancing; they formed a semicircle, each with his left hand on his neighbour's right shoulder. They were all completely furnished with their feather ornaments, and I now saw for the first time the head-dress, or acangatára, which they value highly. This consists of a coronet of red and yellow feathers disposed in regular rows, and firmly attached to a strong woven or plaited band. The feathers are entirely from the shoulders of the great red macaw, but they are not those that the bird naturally possesses, for these Indians have a curious art by which they change the colours of the feathers of many birds.
They pluck out those they wish to paint, and in the fresh wound inoculate with the milky secretion from the skin of a small frog or toad. When the feathers grow again they are of a brilliant yellow or orange colour, without any mixture of blue or green, as in the natural state of the bird; and on the new plumage being again plucked out, it is said always to come of the same colour without any fresh operation. The feathers are renewed but slowly, and it requires a great number of them to make a coronet, so we see the reason why the owner esteems