Page 24 of The Voice of Wild Places
Dead Horse Camp.
The archaeological site.
Fawcett’s public route.
The one his journals actually depicted him to follow.
“I don’t see anything amiss,” Cornelius said finally, not taking his eyes off the map.“Things may change once we enter the area proper, there’s always the chance we’ll have to take detours if we encounter obstacles.I have a few more points marked on my own map, landmarks to guide us by and indigenous villages.You can copy them over, if you’d like.”
Watt nodded, secretly pleased.They ended up on the floor, comparing coordinates and planning alternate routes at various points in the journey.Cornelius marked the places that Fawcett had been sighted, noting the date for each.He frowned every time Watt said, “Our route should be easier than his,” but Watt couldn't help it.Despite this, Cornelius was relaxed, the natural teacher.Faced with Watt’s lack of political knowledge regarding the area, Cornelius heaved into a long and surprisingly patient lecture.
“Well, we’re stepping into quite the hornet’s nest, you see.It’s always been a coffee and milk sort of arrangement with the presidency in Brazil, each term the candidate hails from either São Paulo or Minas Gerais, alternating each time in order to keep things fair.Mind you, São Paulo and Minas Gerais aren’t the only states in Brazil, simply the most powerful.”
“Wait, what does that mean?Coffee and milk?”
“Oh, São Paulo is largely dominated by the coffee industry, while Minas Gerais leads in dairy.Braziliswell known for its café com leite,” Cornelius said, an edge of sarcasm in his voice which could have been teasing or reproach.
“I knew about the coffee,” Watt said weakly.
Cornelius gave him a tiny smile.“Right.Well, in this last election that took place a few weeks ago, the governor of São Paulo, Júlio Prestes, won and has been declared Washington Luís’ successor.But that’s a problem, because Luís is also from São Paulo.There’s been great push back from the governor of Minas Gerais, who’d previously promised not to lay a claim to the presidency in favor of a third party, Getúlio Vargas, governor of Rio Grande do Sul.”
Watt rubbed at his forehead.“So … now what?Are they going to move forward?Will there be …” Watt trailed off, but Cornelius caught the lost thread.
Slowly, he said, “I don’t think there will be a war, it wasn’t that long ago that Brazil was fighting among itself and I don’t think anyone wants to do that again.But there has been talk that Minas Gerais, Rio Grande do Sul, and Paraíba want to form an alliance, with Vargas as its leader.It’s all very messy, quite the time to visit.”
Watt shook his head.“I had no idea, shouldn’t we have been told this?”He glanced at Cornelius, curiosity sparking.“How do you know all this?”
Cornelius lifted a shoulder, adjusting his glasses.“I have correspondents in Peru and Colombia, and a few in Brazil.And there is such a thing as the news, you know.”
A small, self-deprecating grin curled Watt’s lips.“Ah.Tell me, do you know anything about a General Rondon?According to Senhor Antunes, he nearly didn’t allow us to come.”
Cornelius gaped.Watt stared at him.
“What?”
“Don’t you?”
Watt flushed.“I’m afraid not.”
Cornelius recovered, but only slightly.He pushed his glasses up his nose.“I’m sorry, that was rude, but I assumed that at the very least since you were close to Fawcett, you would’ve known.”
Watt bristled, waiting.
“Well, they were … on unfriendly terms, of a sort.”
Watt blinked.“What kind of man would be on unfriendly terms with someone like Fawcett?”
“A man who was in Fawcett's opinion, part savage.You heard Mrs.Fawcett, what she said about him.And even she herself used the term Indian, which is wholly inaccurate,” Cornelius said, visibly uncomfortable.Quietly, he added, “Or in the case of Dr.Rice, a well privileged man.They didn't get on either.”
An awkward silence descended upon them.During this time, Watt searched his brain for any discussion of General Rondon at social gatherings, but came up empty.Fawcett had been a friend of Callum's, but Watt only had a few encounters with the man himself, seances aside.They’d all been pleasant social encounters, but he'd seen Fawcett’s diary, noting the superior way he compared himself to the people who lived in the places he explored.He thought of what Nina had said in Cornelius’ office, the duality of Fawcett and his beliefs.Then Watt thought of himself, and winced internally when he realized he'd been guilty of the same fault as Nina on more than one occasion.
“Fawcett was a great explorer,” Cornelius said hesitantly.“But not a great man, I think.At the very least, there was room to improve in many ways.”
Watt didn’t know what to say to that, too afraid to speak ill of the dead and too cowardly to speak ill of himself.Instead, he asked, “What happened?”
Cornelius swelled with knowledge, and began.“Well, Cândido Rondon helped to overthrow Pedro The II, you know.Ended the empire at an age younger than we are now, and came from a small Bororo village.He’s incredibly smart, and can live off the land like no one else.He’s a Positivist, and similar to Fawcett he would rather die than kill.But Fawcett saw the Indigenous peoples as savages, not people.Human, but less than.Same for people of color, too.Well, he said that Rondon had ambitions ‘above his station.'Rondon of course was furious.He's spent his entire life dedicated to Brazil, and science, only for the so-called superior white men of the east to declare they know best.I think for the most part he lets his work speak for itself, like the line.He did call Fawcett and the other RGS fellas poseurs, though.Serves them right.He’s currently on a border-inspection expedition, otherwise we might've been able to meet him.”
Watt laughed.“You’re enamored.”
