Though the sight of the
Amazon, with its waters gently flowing to the east, invited him to
follow its course; though Joam every year sent rafts of wood to
Manaos, to Belem, and the seacoast of Para; though he had seen each
year Benito leave after his holidays to return to his studies, yet
the thought seemed never to have occurred to him to go with him.
The products of the farm, of the forest, and of the fields, the
fazender sold on the spot. He had no wish, either with thought or
look, to go beyond the horizon which bounded his Eden.
From this it followed that for twenty-five years Joam Garral had
never crossed the Brazilian frontier, his wife and daughter had never
set foot on Brazilian soil. The longing to see something of that
beautiful country of which Benito was often talking was not wanting,
nevertheless. Two or three times Yaquita had sounded her husband in
the matter. But she had noticed that the thought of leaving the
fazenda, if only for a few weeks, brought an increase of sadness to
his face. His eyes would close, and in a tone of mild reproach he
would answer:
"Why leave our home? Are we not comfortable here?"
And Yaquita, in the presence of the man whose active kindness and
unchangeable tenderness rendered her so happy, had not the courage to
persist.
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