Benito was now aged twenty-one, and quick, brave, and sympathetic,
contrasted outwardly with his friend Manoel, who was more serious and
reflective. It was a great treat for Benito, after quite a year
passed at Belem, so far from the fazenda, to return with his young
friend to his home to see once more his father, his mother, his
sister, and to find himself, enthusiastic hunter as he was, in the
midst of these superb forests of the Upper Amazon, some of whose
secrets remained after so many centuries still unsolved by man.
Minha was twenty years old. A lovely girl, brunette, and with large
blue eyes, eyes which seemed to open into her very soul; of middle
height, good figure, and winning grace, in every way the very image
of Yaquita. A little more serious than her brother, affable,
good-natured, and charitable, she was beloved by all. On this subject
you could fearlessly interrogate the humblest servants of the
fazenda. It was unnecessary to ask her brother's friend, Manoel
Valdez, what he thought of her. He was too much interested in the
question to have replied without a certain amount of partiality.
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