Wednesday, August 7, 1867. — We walked down to the Porto da Ponte Grande, where the ajojo or raft lay. I never saw such an old Noah’s Ark, with its standing awning, a floating gipsy “pál,” some seven feet high and twenty-two long, and pitched like a tent upon two hollowed logs. The river must indeed be safe, if this article can get down without accident.

Footnote on Porto da Ponte Grande:

The upper landing-place at the Ponte Pequena Quarter is called “Porto do Gall ego,” from a stream and an old gold washing hard by it.

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