[i]

# ACROSS UNKNOWN

# SOUTH AMERICA

### BY

## A. HENRY SAVAGE-LANDOR

#### WITH 2 MAPS, 8 COLOURED PLATES, AND 260 ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR

#### IN TWO VOLUMES

### VOL. II

##### HODDER AND STOUGHTON

##### LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO

The Mouth of the Putamayo River.

[ii]

#### Printed in 1913
Copyright in the United States of America
by A. Henry Savage-Landor

[iii]

## CONTENTS

### VOL. II

[ix]

## LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

### VOL. II

[1]

## CHAPTER I

The River Arinos—A Rickety Canoe—Mapping the River—The Siphonia Elastica—Rubber and its Collection—An Enormously Rich Country—A German in Slavery

We struck the River Arinos at a point called Porto Velho. There were at that place the miserable sheds of three seringueiros (rubber-collectors). I had made for that particular spot because I had heard that a big canoe carved out of the trunk of a tree probably existed there. I was told that the canoe was large enough to carry many people. It had been constructed, it seemed, some ten years previously by a rubber-collecting expedition which came to grief, was abandoned, and had since been taken possession of by seringueiros. I had purchased it on chance from its last owner for Rs. 300,000. With accessories I gave about Rs. 450,000, or roughly, £30. It was the only canoe upon that river.

I considered myself lucky, when I arrived at Porto Velho, to find that the canoe actually existed at all. There she was, floating more or less gracefully upon the water. She had a total length of 42 ft., was 3½ ft. wide, and had been roughly scooped out of a giant tree which was not quite straight. Her lines, therefore, were not as elegant as might have been expected. For instance, her starboard and port[2] sides were not absolutely straight lines, but described curves—in fact, the port side almost an angle. That gave the canoe an original appearance, which to my practical mind at once suggested great difficulty of steering. Her sides, coarsely cut with an axe, were from 3 to 5 in. thick; her bottom from 6 in. to 1 ft. thick. The two extremities were solid blocks, so that her weight—she was carved out of unusually heavy wood—was altogether over 2,000 lb.

When I went down to the water to examine my purchase I found that the vessel was in a pitiful condition and needed sound repairing before she could proceed on a long journey. She was sufficiently good for crossing the stream—that was all she was used for by the seringueiros—but it would be a different matter to go down rapids for some thousands of kilometres. It took all the strength of my men, the seringueiros, and myself combined to pull the canoe out of the water upon the beach and to turn her over. We worked hard for two days with saws and hammers, knives, tar and wadding, in order to stop up a gigantic crack which extended from one end of the canoe to the other under her bottom. Although the crack did not go right through, I could well imagine that a hard knock against a rock might be quite sufficient to split the canoe in two. We scraped her and cleaned her; we overhauled and strengthened her thoroughly; we cut rough seats inside, and built an elevated deck upon which the baggage might be comparatively safe from moisture.

We were proud of our work when we launched her. Wiping the dripping perspiration from our foreheads,[3] necks and arms, we looked just as if we had come out of a bath, we sweated so in our efforts to push her back into the water, the heat near the water, screened as it was from the breeze by the high banks and trees, being suffocating! We gazed at her—the queen of the Arinos River. She looked lovely in our eyes. On her stern I fixed the steering gear, a huge paddle 12 ft. long; and upon a neatly-made staff, which I had cut myself, I hoisted the British flag, which had hitherto flown over my tent. It was, I think, the first time the British flag had waved over that river. The canoe was baptized the "Elfrida," after my sister's name.

It will be remembered that only four men remained with me. Not one of them had ever been in a canoe before—except to be ferried across a river, perhaps—not one had the slightest idea of navigation, and it followed, of course, that not one had ever used a paddle or steered a canoe.

As the river had never been surveyed, it was my intention to make an accurate map of its entire course as far as its junction with the Tres Barras, several thousand kils. away, from which point I imagined the river must be slightly better known. Therefore, as I should be busy all day long with the prismatic compass and watch, constantly taking notes of the direction of the stream and the distances covered (checked almost daily by astronomical observations) I should not be able to take an active part in the navigation.

The canoe was undermanned. Imagine her length—42 ft.—with only two men to paddle. A third man was stationed on her bow to punt when possible and be[4] on the look-out for rocks; while Alcides, whom I had promoted to the rank of quartermaster, was in charge of the steering. I had taken the precaution to make a number of extra paddles. We carried a large quantity of fishing-lines with hooks of all sizes, and cartridges of dynamite.

The river was most placid and beautiful, and the water wonderfully clear. Unlike rivers elsewhere, the Arinos did not show a branch or a twig floating on its waters, not a leaf on its mirror-like surface. That did not mean that branches of trees—sometimes even whole trees—did not fall into the river, but, as I have stated already, the specific gravity of woods in that part of Brazil was so heavy that none floated. Hence the ever-clean surface of all the streams.

We were then in a region of truly beautiful forest, with figueira (Ficus of various kinds), trees of immense size, and numerous large cambará. The bark of the latter—reddish in colour—when stewed in boiling water, gave a refreshing decoction not unlike tea and quite good to drink.

Most interesting of all the trees was, however, the seringueira (Siphonia elastica), which was extraordinarily plentiful in belts or zones along the courses of rivers in that region. As is well known, the seringueira, which grows wild in the forest there, is one of the most valuable lactiferous plants in the world. Its latex, properly coagulated, forms the best quality of rubber known.

Rubber Tree showing Incisions and the Collar and Tin Cup for the Collection of the Latex.

Coagulating Rubber into a Ball.

There are, of course, many latex-giving plants of the Euphorbiæ, Artocarpæ and Lobeliæ families, but no other are perhaps such abundant givers of latex as the[5] Brazilian seringueira (of the Euphorbiæ family), a tree plentiful not only in Matto Grosso on all the head-waters and courses of the rivers flowing into the Amazon, but also abundant in the Provinces of Para and the Amazon. In less quantities the seringueira is also to be found in Ceará, Rio Grande do Norte and Maranhão.

The seringueira prevailed chiefly near the water, in swampy places, or in places inundated when the river was high. Never was the tree to be found at a distance away from water.

The height of the seringueira varies from 25 ft. to 50 ft. Its diameter is seldom more than 35 in. Its leaf is composed of three elongated leaflets, smooth-edged and complete in themselves. The seed is smooth-skinned, and of a reddish tone. The fruit consists of a well-rounded wooden capsule enclosing three cells which contain white oily almonds not disagreeable to eat. From the almonds an oil of a light red colour, not unlike the colour of old port wine, can be extracted. That oil can be substituted for linseed oil, and has the further advantage of not desiccating so quickly. Mixed with copal and turpentine it gives a handsome varnish. It can be used advantageously in the manufacture of printing-ink and soap. So that every part of the seringueira can be put to some use or other.

Among the other more important trees which produce rubber may be mentioned the Siphonia brevifoglia, the Siphonia brasiliensis, Siphonia rhytidocarpa, and the Siphonia lutea, all found chiefly in the State of Para. In other parts of Brazil grow the Ficus anthelmintica, the Ficus doliaria (or gameilleira), the Ficus[6] elastica, Ficus indica, Ficus religiosa, Ficus radula, Ficus elliptica, Ficus prinoides, the Plumeria phagedenica, the Plumeria drastica, the Sorveira or Collophora utilis, and the Mangabeira or Harncornia speciosa.

At present we shall be chiefly interested in the seringueira (Siphonia elastica).

The collection of the latex from the seringueira and the subsequent process of coagulation were simple enough. A seringueiro, or rubber-collector, started from his hut early every morning carrying with him a small steel axe or pick, the head of which was 3 in. long and shaped like a bird's beak; a tin bucket, and some barro—soft clay which had been soaked in water. He walked along the estrada or track which he had cleared for himself, leading from one rubber tree to the next. There may be twenty, thirty, fifty or more rubber trees that have been tapped on one estrada, according to the district and the activity of the seringueiro. In the case of a new tree a collar of the fibre of burity palm was in the first instance nailed with pegs of hard wood round the stem, not horizontally, but at an angle: sometimes, when necessary, in a spiral. In other cases a similar band of clay was made to encircle the tree. These collars served as channels, compelling the latex, as it exuded from cuts made in the tree, to flow into a small tin cup suspended at the lowest point of the collar. The incisions were never made lower than 2 or 3 ft. from the ground. They must not penetrate deeper than the entire thickness of the bark of the tree, and they must on no account touch or wound the actual wood, or the tree would suffer greatly—even die. In some regions the[7] incisions were made longitudinally, in others transversely. The operation was repeated by the seringueiro each time on every rubber tree as he went along the estrada, the latex flowing freely enough into the tin cup after each fresh incision had been made.

The seringueiro thus tapped each tree on his way out along the estrada, which in some cases may be several miles long; in other cases, where rubber trees were plentiful, only a few hundred yards in length. On his return journey the seringueiro emptied each small tin cup—by that time filled with latex—into the large bucket which invariably accompanied him on his daily round. Rubber-trees possess in a way at least one characteristic of cows. The more milk or latex one judiciously extracts from them, the more they give, up to a certain point. But, indeed, such a thing is known as exhausting a tree in a short time. A good seringueiro usually gives the trees a rest from the time they are in bloom until the fruit is mature. In some regions even a much longer respite is given to the trees—generally during the entire rainy season. In some localities, too, in order to let the latex flow more freely, a vertical incision is made above and meeting a horizontal one. At intervals oblique incisions are cut next to the vertical ones, but in Matto Grosso I never saw that complicated system of incisions adopted—only vertical incisions parallel to one another at a distance of 0·25 m. (9⅞ in.) being made there, and in rows one above another. Some of the trees had actually hundreds of those cuts—many, of course, healed. Each cut only exudes latex for a comparatively short time, merely an hour or so.

[8] During the first month after a tree is tapped, the supply of latex is generally plentiful; the second month it gives less; less still the third month. On an average twenty trees give about one litre of latex a day. Three litres of latex are necessary in order to obtain one litre of rubber. At the head-waters of the Arinos River 600 trees gave from 30 to 35 arobas (450 to 525 kils.) of fine rubber in the first month, and about 20 arobas (300 kils.) of sarnambé (second quality with impurities). One aroba is 15 kils.

The latex of the seringueira in the Arinos region was of a beautiful white, quite liquid, and with a pungent, almost sickening, odour. When a new tree was tapped, the lower towards the ground the incisions were made the better. If after considerable tapping the tree did not yield much, it was advisable to incise the tree higher up. In that region the trees exuded latex more abundantly when they began to have new leaves in October. Late in the dry season the latex flowed less freely. When the weather was windy all the latex seemed to contract to the summit of the trees and hardly flowed at all from the incisions. When it rained, on the contrary, it flowed freely, but was spoilt by being mixed with water; so that a good seringueiro must know well not only where and how, but also when to tap the trees, in order to get good results.

Balls of Rubber outside a Seringueiro's Hut.

Method of Pressing Rubber into Cakes.

The alum process of coagulation being used.

Several ways were employed in order to coagulate the latex. The simplest was the one used in Matto Grosso. The latex was poured into a rectangular wooden mould, 0·61 m. long (2 ft.), 0·46 m. wide (1½ ft.), and 0·15 m. deep (about 6 in.). Upon the latex was[9] placed a solution of alum and warm water. Then coagulation took place. In order to compress the coagulating latex into solid cakes, a primitive lever arrangement was used—merely a heavy wooden bar, one end of which was inserted into the cavity of a tree, above the wooden mould, while at the other end of the bar heavy logs of wood were suspended. One night was sufficient for the latex to coagulate thoroughly and be properly compressed into cakes, weighing each about 22½ kils. The cakes were lifted out by belts of liane which had been previously laid into the moulds.

The discoverer of the method of coagulating rubber with alum was Henry S. Strauss. He also found that by keeping the latex in hermetically sealed vessels it could be preserved in a liquid state. The same result could be obtained with ammonia.

In the Amazon and Para Provinces a different process was used. The latex was coagulated by placing it near the fire. The heat evaporated the aqueous part and coagulated the vegetable albumen. In order to make what was called a garrafa, or large ball of rubber—some weighed 20, 30, 40 kils. and more—a small ball of latex was made to coagulate round a horizontal bar of wood. That ball was gradually increased in circumference by smearing it over with more latex, which became gradually coagulated and dried by the heat and smoke produced by the burning of certain woods, and of the oily seeds of the urucuri palm, technically known as the Attalea excelsa. In this process the rubber did not remain white, as with the alum process; in fact, it became dark brown, almost black,[10] owing, of course, to the smoke. Locally, the smoking process was said to be the better of the two, for the coagulation with alum took away somewhat from the elasticity of the rubber.

Interesting was the sorveira (Collophora utilis), a tree which gave latex that was quite delicious to drink, but could not be coagulated. The trees, to any untrained person, closely resembled the seringueira, only the leaves were more minute and differently shaped. It must be remembered that nearly all the trees of the Brazilian forest had leaves only at a very great height above the ground, and it was not always easy to see their shape, especially when close to other trees where the foliage got interwoven into an almost solid mass. We frequently enjoyed the sweet milk of the sorveira—it tasted slightly of fresh walnuts with sugar on them. It was unsafe to drink too much of it, as it had injurious effects upon one's digestive organs.

There was there also the leiteiro (or producer of milk), a smaller tree, and the liana macaco, which both produced abundant milk, but in neither case had a way, so far, been found to coagulate it.

The two days spent at Porto Velho were interesting. The four men who had remained with me behaved fairly well, principally owing to the prospect, that, in drifting down stream, they would not have to work, and would be saved the heavy trouble of grooming, packing and unpacking the animals, and the tedious job every morning of riding miles through the country in order to recover those that had strayed away during the night.

"Thank heaven!" exclaimed Antonio, as he gazed[11] at the canoe, "we shall not have to hunt for her every morning!"

"Yes," answered Filippe, "no more pack-saddles to fix, no more leading the animals to drink. She"—pointing to the canoe—"can drink all the time if she likes...."

Filippe was a prophet. The canoe did "drink" all the time, much to our concern. Little did my men suspect before we started that they would have the hardest time of their lives—so hard, indeed, that it was amazing humans could endure it at all.

One of the three seringueiros at Porto Velho interested me greatly. He was a tall, gentlemanly, refined person, who seldom uttered a word. I noticed that he avoided meeting me, and, although extremely civil, seemed afraid to enter into conversation. The little shed he had built himself (7 ft. by 4 ft., and 7 ft. high) was extraordinarily neat, and open on all sides—quite unlike the sheds Brazilian rubber collectors build themselves.

From my tent I watched him. The man got up before sunrise every day, going at once to the river for a swim. Humming some sort of a song, he would then go through a series of gymnastic exercises, interrupted by sonorous slaps upon different parts of his anatomy to kill impertinent mosquitoes, of which there were swarms on the Arinos River. That done, he would assume a suit of working-clothes, and, returning to his shed, would pick up his tools and noiselessly depart, so as not to disturb our sleep! At sunset, when he returned, he immediately proceeded to the river to have another swim and to get rid of the many insects[12] which always collected upon one's person in going through the forest. Then he put on a clean suit of clothes, and, saluting us from a distance, went to his shed to rest.

I was certain the man was not a Brazilian, but as curiosity is not one of my chief characteristics I took no special notice of him. This brought him round to my tent one evening. The man was a German by birth, of a good family and excellent education. He could speak German, English, French, Spanish and Portuguese to perfection, and was well versed in the literature of those languages. He had evidently drifted about for many years in many parts of South America in search of a fortune, in the Argentine, in Uruguay, and had ended by becoming a slave in Brazil. Yes, the poor old man was a voluntary slave. He had borrowed from his employer and was unable to repay. He was therefore a slave in the true sense of the word, as his employer could, according to local custom, sell him to any one he chose.

The Upper Arinos River.

The Arinos River above the Rapids.

I was terribly upset to see a European in such a position, and, what was worse, I was not in a position to help. Nor indeed was help asked for or wanted. The old fellow bore the burden bravely, and said he had never been happier in his life. Supposing he were made to return to his own country—from which he had been absent so many years—he philosophically argued, what could he be, with no money and no friends, but a most unhappy man? All his relatives and friends must have died; the habits he had acquired in the wilds were not suitable for European cities; he was too old to change them. The German was an extra[13]ordinarily fine type of a man, honest, straightforward, brave. He spoke in the kindest and fairest way of his master. He had sold himself because of necessity. It was now a matter of honour, and he would remain a slave until it was possible to repay the purchase money—some four hundred pounds sterling, if I remember rightly—which he never expected to be able to repay at all.

The German told me some interesting things about the immediate neighbourhood of the camp. The Indians of the Cayapo tribe, who lived close by, did not interfere with the seringueiros. He had been there several years in succession, and he had never seen an Indian. The seringueiros only went to collect rubber during some three or four months each year, after which time they returned to the distant towns south as far as Cuyabá and Corumbá. At the beginning of the rainy season, when the time came for them to retire, the Indians generally began to remind the seringueiros that it was time to go, by placing obstacles on the estrada, by removing cups or even the collars from the rubber trees. But so far in that region, although footmarks of Indians and other signs of them had been noticed, not one individual had been actually seen. Their voices were frequently heard in the distance singing war songs.

"Hark!" said the German to me, "do you hear them?"

I listened attentively. Far, far down the river a faint chorus of voices could just be heard—intermittent sounds of "huá ... huá ... huá ... huá." In the stillness of the night the sound could be dis[14]tinguished clearly. It went on until sunrise, when it gradually died out.

There was a big lagoon to the west of Porto Velho, formed by the river at high water. The lagoon dried up during the dry season. It was separated from the river only by a narrow tongue of land, 80 ft. high.

I took careful and repeated observations for latitude, longitude, and altitude, the latter by a boiling-point thermometer, from our point of departure at the headwaters of the Arinos River. The elevation of the river was there 1,200 ft. by aneroid, 1,271 ft. by the hypsometrical apparatus. The latitude was 14° 2′·2 South; the longitude 56° 17′ West of Greenwich.

We were having beautiful, clear skies. Only on July 4th at sunset a solitary streak of mist extended to the summit of the sky.

I had two plans in my mind when I decided to descend the Arinos River. One was to abandon that river at the point where it met the Juruena River and strike across country westward until the Madeira-Mamore Railway was met. The other plan—even more difficult—was to continue down the river as far as its junction with the Tres Barras, from which place I would strike across the virgin forest as far as the Madeira River. I had not the faintest idea how I could realize either plan with the ridiculously meagre resources at my disposal. I had money enough, but unfortunately that was one of the few spots on earth where money was of little use. Again I trusted in Providence to come to our help. Both plans involved thousands of kilometres of navigation of a diabolical river, in an almost uncontrollable canoe, with an in[15]sufficient and absolutely incapable crew. Then would come the crossing of the virgin forest on foot, for some hundreds of kilometres—nobody knew how many. The least number of men necessary in order to be able to carry provisions sufficient to execute either plan was thirty. I only had four. Yet I started. The second plan was successfully carried out, but necessarily at the cost almost of all our lives, and with sufferings unimaginable.

[16]

## CHAPTER II

Hoisting the British Flag—An Escaped Slave—A Dilemma—Benedicto—The Lutra Brasiliensis—The Seringueiros—A Marvellous River—Rapids

On July 6th we packed the canoe with our baggage and dogs. The British flag was hoisted at the stern of the canoe, and with tender embraces from the seringueiros, whose eyes were wet with tears—they imagined that we were going to certain death—we pulled out of Porto Velho at seven minutes to eleven o'clock a.m.

"We will pray with all our hearts that you may reach the end of your journey safely!... Beware of the rapids; they are terrible.... Be careful because the canoe does not steer true.... Do not let the canoe knock too hard against rocks, or she may split in two!... Good-bye!... good-bye!"

With those encouraging remarks from the seringueiros, who were sobbing bitterly, we drifted with the current, Antonio and Filippe the negro paddling in the style generally adopted for scooping soup with a spoon out of a dish.

I had provided the canoe with a number of improvised paddles we had cut ourselves. There were no two of equal size, shape, or weight. We had chopped them with an axe from sections of a tree. They were[17] originally all intended to be the same, but what we intended to have and what we got were two different matters, as the five of us each worked on a separate paddle.

The seringueiros stood on the high bank, waving their arms in the air. One of them blew plaintive sounds on one of the horns used by them for calling their companions while in the forest. Those horns could be heard enormous distances. Filippe the white man, who was not paddling, fired back a salute of ten shots. There was nothing my men loved more than to waste ammunition. Fortunately we had plenty.

The average width of the river was there from 80 to 100 metres, with a fairly swift current. It was lucky that ours was the only boat on that river, for indeed we needed all that breadth of water in our snake-like navigation. I remonstrated with Alcides, who was at the helm, and advised him to keep the nose of the canoe straight ahead, as we were coming to a corrideira or small rapid.

Alcides, who could never be told anything, became enraged at my words of warning, and also at the derision of the other men, as we were drifting side on and he could not straighten her course. Just as we were entering the rapid, in his fury Alcides, in disgust, let go the steering-gear, which he said was useless. We were seized by the current and swung round with some violence, dashing along, scraping the bottom of the canoe on rocks, and bumping now on one side, now on the other, until eventually we were dashed violently over a lot of submerged trees, where the bank had been eroded by the current and there had[18] been a landslide. The canoe nearly capsized, the three dogs and some top baggage being thrown out into the water by the impact. We got stuck so hard among the branches of the trees that we all had to remove our lower garments and get into the water trying to get the canoe off.

My men used pretty language. That small accident was lucky for us. The shouts of my men attracted to the bank a passing man. Half-scared, a wild figure of a mulatto with long, unkempt hair and beard, his body covered by what must have once been a suit of clothes, stood gazing at us, clutching a double-barrelled gun in his hands.

"Is there a revolution in Matto Grosso?" he inquired when I caught sight of him. "Why do you fly the red flag?"

"That is not the flag of revolution, that is the flag of peace. It is the English flag."

"The English flag! The English flag!" he exclaimed, running down the slope of the river bank. "You are English!... Oh, sir, take me with you! I entreat you take me with you! I am an escaped slave.... I owe my master much money.... I can never repay it.... I am a seringueiro. My estrada is some miles down the river. I have been there alone suffering for months. I had no more food, nothing. There is very little fish in the river. The life is too terrible. I can stand it no more. If you do not take me with you I shall kill myself."

I tried to persuade the strange figure to return to his master—the master lived in comfort in the city of Cuyabá. "If you chose to borrow money and[19] sell yourself, it was only right that you should repay your debt." That was the only way I could look at it. But the man would not hear of it. If I did not take him he would kill himself—there, before me, he repeated; that was all.

So difficult a dilemma to solve—at so inconvenient a moment, when we were as busy as busy could be, trying to disentangle the canoe—was rather tiresome. The strange man, having laid his gun upon the ground, helped us with all his might in our work. When the canoe got off, the strange man, gun and all, jumped clumsily into her and nearly capsized her a second time. He implored me with tears in his eyes to take him along. He would work day and night; he would present me with his double-barrelled gun (an old muzzle-loader); he did not want pay—he only wanted to get freed from his master, who, he said, robbed and ill-treated him.

"Do you swear upon all that is most sacred that you have made up your mind not to go back to your master?"

"Yes. If you say 'No' to me, I shall kill myself now."

Benedicto—that was his name—spoke with quiet determination.

"Very good, Benedicto. You can remain. What is more, you shall receive from this moment the same pay as the other men. You can keep your old gun, too."

Benedicto embraced and kissed my hands, then my feet. The poor man's joy was so great that it was really worth living to see that such moments of happiness could be procured in a man's lifetime.

[20] Benedicto was a free man again, and for the first time in his life was earning genuine money! He was handed a paddle, and he paddled away for all he was worth, splashing with water those in front and behind him. He was in a state of great excitement, tears flowing freely down his cheeks and beard, and dripping on to his knees as he sat in the bottom of the canoe. He sobbed to his heart's content, and kept on splashing us all over with his paddle. We were all so touched by that pathetic scene that we preferred getting wet to remonstrating.

Fortunately the river was placid enough under the corrideira. When things had quieted down a little, I taught Benedicto and the others how to paddle properly, and Alcides how to steer straight. I had then five men. That improved matters greatly, as four could paddle while the fifth was steering.

The Arinos River flowed from Porto Velho in a south-westerly, then in a due westerly direction, then north, then again west, from which last point it doubled, as it were, and proceeded east and south-east, returning to within quite a short distance of our original point of departure. We sounded our horn, and immediately heard in reply the horn of the seringueiros at Porto Velho. Judging by the sound, the distance could not have been more than a few hundred metres, although we had travelled some six thousand metres down stream.

The First Rocks in the Arinos River.

Enormous Globular Rocks typical of the Arinos River.

For the first time I noticed swallows flying swiftly over the river, close to the water. Another easy corrideira was encountered. When we had been out several hours my men were already beginning to get[21] into the right way of paddling, and Alcides was commencing to understand the capricious mysteries of the steering-gear.

On account of my men's inexperience—and due credit being given to the current—we went at the rate of 13 kils. an hour. Innumerable were the rubber trees all along the banks. Occasionally small sand beaches were met with. Here and there a fallen giant tree obstructed part of the river. Families of ariranhas (Lutra brasiliensis) played in the water. The pretty little animals—not unlike otters—raised their heads above water, and, hissing loudly, frequently came to attack the canoe. They were extraordinarily brave. They were greatly attracted by the vivid red of the British flag, which in their imagination suggested blood. They became wildly excited when I waved the flag at them, and when I placed it near the water they would charge the canoe—so much so that two or three times my men were able to kill them by striking them on the head with the heavy wooden paddles.

The river was at its lowest when I descended it, which made it all the more difficult for us, as we were treated to innumerable small rapids which would otherwise have been entirely covered over with water. A great island (80 m. long) of pebbles and beautiful crystals was passed in the centre of the stream, which there formed two channels; one entirely blocked by fallen trees and accumulated rolling material, the other, 40 m. wide, very deep and swift.

The banks of the river were about 20 ft. high, generally of red earth, with a stratum of white sand above. The vegetation was luxuriant and extra[22]ordinarily tidy along the summit of the banks. The water was quite crystal-like, it was so clear. All the time our nostrils were fully expanded to inhale the delicious scent of the forest, which closely resembled that of jessamine. Masses of violet-coloured convolvuli were festooned from the trees. That was a great treat for me, after the months I had gone through when my entire days were spent eating up dust raised in clouds by the troop of animals marching in front of me.

When you came to survey a river it was really amazing what zigzags water could make in cutting its way through a country. From north-west the Arinos veered south-west, and from south-west to north-east.

By one o'clock we were in a spacious basin, 200 m. in diameter, close to which a small tributary, 2 m. wide, entered the Arinos on the left bank. Farther down on the right bank were neat beaches of white and red sand. We stopped for a few moments at a seringueiro's shed. The poor fellow—a negro—was in a pitiable condition from malarial fever.

Those martyrs of labour were much to be pitied, and also admired. There, hundreds of miles away from everybody, they stayed, abandoned in the forest until the agents of their masters who had dropped them there found it convenient to come and fetch them back again. If they came back at all and never failed, it was not, you can be sure, for the interest they took in human life, but because of the quantity of valuable rubber which they expected would be collected before their return. Those poor creatures had no possible way of escape, except under extraordinary[23] circumstances. They were conveyed to their stations overland by means of pack animals, which at once were sent back and did not return until the end of the collecting season. Even then, if the seringueiro wanted to get away, he was frequently compelled to purchase an animal from his employer at three or four times its actual value—that is to say, perhaps sixty or eighty pounds sterling. So that the more a man worked or earned the more he became indebted to his master.

Like all men who have lived a great deal in exile and solitude, the seringueiros—nearly all blacks or mulattos—were extraordinarily generous. They always wanted to give you all they possessed—which was next to nothing, but meant a fortune to them. They would deprive themselves of anything if they thought they could give the slightest pleasure.

We left the seringueiro. I feared the poor man could not live long in his broken-down condition. He was most grateful for some medicine and provisions I left with him. His farewell to us was in so melancholy a voice, as he tried to lift himself out of an improvised bamboo couch, that for days it rang in my ears, and before my eyes constantly remained his skeleton-like, sunken features as he waved his farewell and fell back exhausted.

Behind a narrow barrier of sand, about 10 ft. high, as we proceeded down stream in a north-westerly direction, was a large lagoon.

The river was really too beautiful for words, the clear green water reflecting with precision in deeper tones the view before us. Only when its course was[24] disturbed and diverted by a sharp rock or by the branches of a fallen and dying tree, the successive angular ridges of the troubled water shone like polished silver in parallel lines from the reflected light of the sun, just like a huge luminous skeleton of a fish.

The trees were truly wonderful along the river—tall and healthy, with dense deep green foliage. But Nature seemed absolutely asleep. Barring the few swallows we had seen soon after our departure, and the ariranhas, we went the whole day without hearing the song of a bird, or the howling of a wild animal. We did hear a noise resembling the bark of a dog—so much did it resemble it that my dogs barked back. But it came not from a dog at all. The peculiar noise was made by a large bird.

A Rocky Barrier in the River.

A Picturesque Double Waterfall on the Arinos River.

After passing a handsome beach of white sand on our left, the river described sharp angles, west, north-west, north-east, then north. There were rapids, fairly strong, although not dangerous in any way. The river was forced through a channel 50 m. wide, in which the current was very strong. To make things worse, a giant tree had fallen and obstructed much of the passage, compelling us to negotiate the rapid in its worst part. A large bay, 180 m. in diameter, opened out below that point. Farther came a perfectly straight stretch of water for 3,000 m. Halfway down that stretch, to the right, we passed the mouth of the Agua Clara, a charming rivulet of crystalline water, 10 m. wide. A conglomerate stratum of alluvial formation, composed of well-rounded pebbles held together by red earth, and crumbling easily under pressure of the fingers, showed through in many places.[25] The beaches of handsome, fine white sand were most interesting.

The forest was getting thin on both sides. In fact, late in the afternoon we had open country on the left bank—only a few trees being visible near the water's edge, and an occasional giant jatobá (Hymencoea Courbaril L.), the latter chiefly on the right bank. The right bank was sparsely wooded, and at one time we had open campos on both sides of us.

A streamlet 3 m. wide entered the Arinos on the left. We got to one point where the river proved treacherous, although apparently almost tranquil on the surface. The Brazilians have an excellent name for such places—rebojo, or a curve formed by sudden deviation of a current. If we had not been careful in going across such places, it would have been easy for the canoe to have been turned over and sucked under.

Patches of thick forest were met on either bank, and in those patches numerous indeed were the rubber trees. In the afternoon we saw chiefly campos and chapada, or thin scrub.

Considering all, we did well—chiefly owing to the strong current—on our first day of navigation. We had gone some 70 kils. when we halted at sunset, at the junction of the very deep streamlet Quarustera with the Arinos. The elevation of our camp, 60 ft. above the river, was 1,200 ft.

The nights were cool enough—minimum 55° Fahr. on the night of June 6th—7th. There was a thick haze over the river in the morning, and as we did not know what we might be coming upon suddenly we[26] did not make a start until 7.15. After crossing a large and shallow bay the stream was forced into a channel 50 m. wide. There was open country—campos—on the right bank. A curious isolated volcanic boulder split in two was then observed in the stream, while the banks were of alluvially deposited conglomerate. From that spot luxuriant forest was on the right bank once more, while open country was on the left. Upon examination I found that the thick forest was merely a band or zone near the water—behind was open country.

Farther, the river went through a neck 40 m. wide where the current was very swift. The banks almost all along were from 10 to 20 ft. high. Slender tucuma or tucuman palms were to be seen, which had stems only 3 to 4 in. in diameter, but were 30 to 40 ft. high, and had a ball-like tuft of leaves at the top. We then came upon open country (chapada) on both sides, and went over small corrideiras, which we got to like, as we travelled along on them at a greater speed than in the still waters, with a minimum of exertion. The river seemed to be getting narrower all the time that day, and, of course, deeper. In many spots it went through a channel not more than 30 m. wide.

We heard—but not for long—the cackling of the jacu (Penelope cristata), a handsome gallinaceous bird. The jacu made most delicious eating. Then that day flocks of small green parrots flew over our heads on several occasions.

Ariranhas gave us once more a good deal of amusement and sport. It was seldom one found such cheeky and inquisitive animals. They would pop[27] their heads out of the water quite close to the canoe and sniff and grind their teeth at us. They had beautiful little heads—something between a cat and a seal—with lovely, but wicked, black eyes of wonderful luminosity. They had a perfect craving for blood. The Brazilians have strange tales about them—not exactly fit for publication.

The sand beaches were not so frequent as we advanced on our journey. We noticed instead extensive beaches of gravel. Another tributary stream, 10 m. wide at its mouth, entered the Arinos from the east. There was heavy forest there with plenty of rubber-trees on the right bank, whereas the country was open on the left bank.

Farther down, the banks became low, so that the slightest rise in the river would inundate the country. The forest was particularly thick, and the rubber trees plentiful, along a stretch of 4,300 m. of river in a perfectly straight line.

The river was getting more and more beautiful at every turn. We emerged into a bay 300 m. in diameter. Great blocks of conglomerate were strewn about. A great spur projected to the centre of the bay. The richness in rubber of that region was amazing. Wonderful giant trees, heavily laden with dark green foliage, were reflected in deeper tones in the water of the river—there almost stagnant because held up by some obstacle lower down. Innumerable festoons of creepers hung down from those trees. The stream was there 80 m. wide, and beautiful that day in great stretches of 4,300 m., 1,400 m., 1,000 m., 3,000 m., 1,500 m., and 1,200 m.—in a perfectly straight[28] line. The forest was occasionally interrupted on one side or the other by great expanses of chapada.

Immense bacabeira palms, 40 to 50 ft. high, were numerous, most graceful to look at, with their ten or eleven huge compound leaves placed like an open fan. Yellow filaments of some length hung in a cluster where the petiole of the leaves met.

We arrived at a pedreria—an accumulation of rocks—extending almost right across the stream, and which was the cause of the placidity of the waters above it. There were two channels—one to bearings magnetic 330°, the other to 360°—on either side of a central island. We followed the first and larger channel. The island, which had a most luxuriant growth of trees upon it, was subdivided into two by a channel 10 m. wide at its south-eastern end.

For purposes of identification I named all the islands we saw. The larger of these two I called Esmeralda Island. In order to establish its exact position I landed and took observations for latitude and longitude. Lat. 13° 15′·6 S.; long. 56° 46′ W.

An Island of the Arinos River.

Vegetation on an Island in the River Arinos.

We were then at an elevation of 1,150 ft. The temperature in the shade was 77° Fahr. and 98° in the sun. Six-tenths of the sky was covered with thick globular clouds, which made the air heavy, although the temperature was not excessively high. It must be remembered that we in the canoe were in the sun all the time and suffered a good deal in the morning and afternoon, when the sun was not high, by the refraction of the sun's rays from the water. The refracted light was so powerful that it interfered a good deal with the navigation. The river[29] looked like a molten surface of boiling silver, which absolutely blinded us at times, and made it impossible to see what was ahead in the water.

Esmeralda Island was formerly joined at its most south-westerly point to the western bank of the river. From that point the river described an arc of a circle as far as bearings magnetic 20° (N.N.E.). We negotiated successfully two small rapids with large volcanic rocks just under the surface of the water. We just escaped going over one of them, which would have certainly capsized the canoe. As it was we merely scraped the side of the canoe against it.

The left bank, which had crumbled down, showed strata of conglomerate and yellow sand, with upper alluvial deposits of a light grey colour.

We were travelling due north in a straight line of 1,800 m. when we came upon the entrance of a lakelet on the west side of an islet. A huge fish—some 5 ft. in length—unaccustomed to the unusual sight of human beings, played about under our canoe for some time, much to the excitement of my men. Birds of superb metallic blue, vivid yellow, and iridescent plumage played about among the trees. On the left bank farther down was a great growth of high bamboos, then again forest with plenty of vigorous rubber trees.

Again small and fairly swift rapids were encountered in a turn of the river from bearings magnetic 70° to 250°. A tributary stream which came from the south entered the Arinos on its left bank. Then we came to another island forming two channels—one (N.W.) 20 m. wide, with some rough-looking rapids; the other channel (N.), larger and[30] shallower, divided in its turn in two by a mound of yellow gravel.

Alcides, who steered, had an idea that in going down rapids you should always send the canoe over places where the water broke and foamed, which meant rocks underneath, and not keep her in the centre of the channel where the water was deeper. This idea was, I think, suggested by his inability to swim, and the hope that if we got wrecked he could touch bottom with his feet, so that his life might be in comparative safety. I tried to argue the point with him, but it was no use. It invariably led to such unpleasantness that once more I decided to trust in Providence, as long as we went forward.

I had just shouted to Alcides to keep in the centre of the channel. Of course he disobeyed. We were caught in the strong current. One moment later there was a violent bump which knocked us all off our seats and sent us sprawling in the bottom of the canoe. We had stuck fast between two rocks. The canoe, being of such great length, vibrated to and fro with the current forcing it at the side. Laden as she was with baggage, in a few moments she became filled with water, and it was only after working hard for the best part of an hour that we were able to extricate ourselves from our position. We had hardly finished baling the water out on resuming our course than, 1,500 m. farther, we came to more rapids, then 700 m. beyond yet other rapids.

The forest was fairly thick all along on both banks, with innumerable healthy rubber trees. Although the forest seemed impenetrable at first sight, I always[31] found that it was easy enough to go through it if one knew how. Quite close to the water naturally the vegetation was somewhat entangled. In many places were extensive patches of bamboos of considerable height; but there is a way of disentangling the most confused growth, if you happen to understand how those plants and liane grow and get twisted. Any one with a keen sense of observation should experience no difficulty whatever in going through the densest forest anywhere in the world—even without using a knife—although, of course, the latter is useful when you wish to keep up a certain speed in your marching.

Eleven kilometres and a half from the last rapids—having travelled north-west, south-west, east, and even due south, so winding was the course of the river—we came to a tributary stream 10 m. wide, on the left side of the Arinos. Eight kilometres farther we passed the inlet—then dry—of a small lagoon fed by the stream. The river banks, where eroded by the water, showed a lower layer of reddish-brown rock with a bright red ferruginous stratum above it. The top layer, 10 ft. thick, seemed formed of lime and alluvial deposits.

We emerged into a large basin 200 m. across, with a charming little island in the centre forming two channels with fairly strong rapids. We followed the channel on the right. At that point the river folded over itself into a great elbow. A cliff, 120 ft. high, towered on one side in brilliant red and yellow. The lower half of the strata was perfectly horizontal; the upper half at an angle of 45° to the lower. The vivid[32] colouring was intensified by contrast with a beautiful beach of immaculate white sand on the left side of the great elbow.

I observed a wonderful double lunar halo on the night of July 7-8, the outer circle in successive tints of most delicate yellow, orange, pale blue and white—the yellow being nearest the centre.

[33]

## CHAPTER III

Dangerous Navigation—Eddies—Whirlpools—An Extraordinary Creature—The Man X.—Pedro de Toledo Island—An Interesting Rodent

We were rather proud of ourselves, as we had gone 69 kils. on July 7th, paddling away—barring the interval for lunch—from 7.15 in the morning until 7.30 at night.

The night was fairly cold—minimum 57° Fahr.; the elevation 1,100 ft. Where I made camp at the elbow of the stream (on the left bank) there were innumerable rubber trees. A similar wealth of Siphonia elastica appeared to be on the opposite bank, where the forest was luxuriant.

On July 8th we began our journey by going down rapids. Then after some 15,300 m. of fairly smooth navigation we crossed a basin 130 m. wide, where we encountered strong eddies—most unpleasant, as they swerved the canoe about in a way that was alarming. Lower down a swift corrideira and more eddies gave us some trouble.

A beautiful ariranha peeped out of the water close to the canoe, spitting angrily at us. It was attracted by the blood-red of the English flag, which it evidently wanted to bite. My men fired and wounded it; but so vicious were those little otters, and so great their[34] craving for blood, that it still came on to within a foot or two of the canoe, when my men killed it.

The river was there compressed into a deep channel, 85 m. wide, with a strong current, after which it split into two arms—one north-west, 25 m. wide; the other north-east, 30 m. broad. The island thus formed between the two arms was 2,500 m. long. We called it Ariranha Island.

A streamlet 3 m. wide entered the Arinos on the right bank. Where the banks were free from vegetation an undulating stratum of red earth was exposed, directly above which was a stratum from 1 to 2 ft. thick of a brilliant yellow colour. Above that rested the usual grey alluvial deposits from 6 to 8 ft. thick.

From a direction due west the stream suddenly turned north, between high banks. A strong corrideira was found before the stream divided itself into three arms—two of those arms flowing north-east, the other north-west. We followed the latter—a channel 20 m. wide, with a high bank of gravel on its left side. Where those arms met again—some 500 m. farther—a basin 200 m. in diameter was formed. A hill 150 ft. high, covered with dense vegetation, faced us to the north. It was quite an unusual sight in such flat country. The stream took a sharp turn at that spot—it positively doubled. Strong eddies were encountered. The greatest care should have been taken in going over places of that kind, but "care" was a word I had absolutely scratched out of my vocabulary as useless in my journey across Brazil. How and why we ever got across those places with the crew I had on board, would indeed be beyond me to explain[35]—unless, as on preceding occasions, it was due to the unceasing protection of a guardian angel.

After crossing a circular basin 200 m. in diameter, the river became suddenly squeezed into a channel 30 m. wide, much strewn with rocks. A somewhat troublesome rapid had to be negotiated there, rendered more difficult by the recent fall, across the best part of the stream, of a giant tree. The branches which stuck out of the water formed a regular barrier and waved to and fro with the violent pressure of the water. Before we could realize where we were, Alcides steered us straight into the branches and foliage of the fallen tree. As we were travelling at an accelerated speed with the strong current, all our hats were scraped off our heads, and, what was worse, our scalps, faces, and arms had patches of skin torn off as we crashed among the branches. It took us some time before we were able to disentangle ourselves, resume navigation, and recover as we went along the various headgear floating independently down the stream.

Another little tributary, 2 m. wide, entered the Arinos on the left side. No sooner had we freed ourselves from the rapids than we were in a circle 80 m. across, with nasty-looking eddies, which swung the undermanned canoe now to one side, then violently to the other, in a dangerous way. We could not have struck a worse time for navigating the river. It was then the end of the dry season and the water at its lowest, so that every possible obstacle that could be found in that river stood to impede our progress. This would not have been the case at high water when navigation in that portion of the stream would have[36] been comparatively smooth and easy. We were thanking our stars that we had passed the vicious eddies safely, when we were confronted by more rapids, with treacherous submerged rocks. Yet another basin, 150 m. wide, was crossed, with large blocks of black rock showing through on the left bank. More rapids were met—quite easy to negotiate. The sky was half covered with feathery radiations from the south.

To the north another hill, 120 ft. high, eroded by water, stood on the left bank of the stream, where red volcanic rock was also visible in a stratum 15 ft. thick, covered by a thick layer of yellow earth. Strong rapids came next. We had had so much luck in the descent of the rapids—which, bad as they were, really were so far quite unimportant as compared to what we were to find later—that my men began to be quite adventurous. Saving trifling mishaps, we were getting on well. The tributaries of the Arinos we had seen so far that day were small streamlets 1 m. wide on the right; another, 2 m. wide—a limpid stream—coming from the south-west on the left. Several springs of clear water filtered through the left bank. In the centre of the river was an extensive bank of gravel held up by blocks of volcanic rock.

Preparing the Canoe to descend a Rapid.

A Cataract on the Arinos River.

In a basin 150 m. wide rose a pretty island. Rapids were found in the channels, of which the western was wider and more free from obstacles. For one entire kilometre there were strong eddies and rapids in succession; then came 3,500 m. of fairly easy travelling. The river for 23,500 m. had been flowing almost in a straight line due north, with slight variations of a few degrees to the north-east and once to the north-west.[37] Plenty of tucum or tucuma palms adorned the right bank; whereas on the left bank was fairly open country.

Again, after some more rapids, the river was squeezed into a neck only 25 m. wide, gradually widening to some 150 m., where whirlpools and eddies of considerable magnitude were formed. On several occasions the canoe was caught in them and swerved right round, describing one or more circles upon herself. Two islets were passed, then a tributary 10 m. wide coming from the east on the right side of us.

A great number of submerged rocks close to the surface formed a ridge 200 m. in length all along the centre of the stream. In a wonderful stretch 4,000 m. long in a perfectly straight line north, the river was from 50 to 100 m. wide. A small tributary rivulet entered it on the west. At the end of that long stretch a wall, 100 ft. high, of brilliantly yellow rock in its lower part, with 15 ft. of vivid red rock above, diverted the stream almost at a right angle toward the west. Rapids and eddies were encountered after passing an obstruction of accumulated gravel in the centre of the river, there 50 m. wide.

Giant trees, not unlike weeping willows, bent over the river, their streamers touching the water. A rocky barrier extended as far as the centre of the stream, leaving only one safe passage on the left side close to the bank. The stream was at that point 100 m. broad, and of great beauty, in a straight line north for 7,400 m.

My men were beginning to paddle a little better, and we were travelling at a considerable speed with[38] the current. We had glorious weather, and although the heat was great our travelling was perfectly delightful. In the daytime we were not worried much by insects. The canoe now and then stuck fast in shallow places or upon rocks, but we all jumped gaily into the water and pushed her along until she floated again. Those baths in the deliciously clear water were quite refreshing. We generally jumped in clothes and all, and left it to the sun to dry the garments upon our backs and legs. I usually wore pyjamas while travelling in the canoe, as they were more comfortable than other clothes and dried quicker when we came out of the water again.

Many sharp successive turns were met next in the course of the river, which then showed stunted vegetation on the right bank and thick forest on the left. A high natural wall, 100 ft. high, of bright cadmium yellow for 30 ft. in its lower part, of vivid red for 50 ft. above that, and darker red above, barred our way in front (north). On its summit were peculiar white-barked slender trees—so white that they looked almost as if they had been painted, but of course they had not. The entire centre of the river, forming there an extensive basin, was blocked by a high bank of gravel, leaving merely narrow channels close to the banks. The high wall deflected the stream from 290° to bearings magnetic 30°. A range of hills some 300 ft. high then appeared before us, extending from N.N.W. to S.S.E.

We went over a stony place which obstructed almost the entire river, except a narrow channel close to the banks. That was followed by rapids.[39] Some 2 kil. 300 m. farther, a hill range to the north switched the stream sharply from north to north-west, which direction it kept with a mere deviation of 20° for 6,500 m.

The stream was then 100 metres wide nearly all along, and of amazing beauty. Yet another stony place disturbed the placidity of the transparent crystal-like water. At the end of that wonderful stretch of river came another great vertical wall, on the left side—of most brilliant colouring, a stratum of vivid red 60 ft. deep with thin bright horizontal yellow streaks, and an upper stratum 18 ft. thick of a similar dazzling yellow. The northern portion of the cliff differed in colouring, and had a brown lower stratum 30 ft. thick, followed upwards by a yellow stratum 2 ft. thick, and a red stratum—a most brilliant vermilion—15 ft. thick. Above was a pink layer 15 ft. thick and a summit deposit of brown earth 45 ft. deep. There again the river was shifted by that obstacle from b.m. 290° to due north. A charming island—which I baptized Bridget Island—700 m. long and 100 m. wide, absolutely smothered in vegetation, was found there. It had an extensive spur of yellow sand and gravel. The right bank was sparsely wooded with open country behind. Two channels were found, one flowing north-west, 40 m. wide, the other north-east, 30 m. broad. We followed the latter, where the rapids seemed less fearsome than in the broader channel.

At the end of Bridget Island another island, 500 m. long, was found, which we called Lucky Island. This second island was 200 m. down stream from the first, and was situated at the junction of the River dos Patos[40] ("river of ducks") with the River Arinos on the right side of the latter stream.

We were amazed to see opposite the island on the right bank a fishing tackle and some clothes. As we had already gone 89 kil. 850 m. that day, having kept an average speed of 11 kil. 250 m. an hour, and the sun was about to set, we decided to halt on "Lucky Island" for the night. We were busy preparing our dinner when a strange figure appeared on the right bank, rifle in hand. His astonishment at seeing us was no greater than ours at seeing him.

"Who were we?" "Where did we come from?" "What did we want there?" "Where were we going?"

All those questions having been duly answered, I sent my canoe over to ferry the fellow across. He was one of the queerest men I have ever met. His eyes constantly roamed about like those of a wild feline animal. He never kept still a moment, springing up unexpectedly to his feet when he was sitting down, and squatting himself down when he had been standing up. All the time he was handling his rifle—a very handsome one—and with rapid movements watched intently now one then another of our party. He seemed in a state of great nervous strain and excitement. He appeared to be a first or second cross of Indians and negroes—quite young, some twenty-four years of age. He had very little clothing upon his person, which showed limbs of extraordinary muscular strength. Seldom is it given to one to see so cruel a face, seldom were criminal characteristics so clearly marked on any one's countenance and in the formation of the skull. A man with a face like that[41] could be capable of any crime. His conversation supplied ample further testimony that his physiognomy had not deceived me. I had so far thought that my men were the coarsest, the most brutal individuals I had ever met, but they were not in it at all with the strange figure we had before us. The conversation of my men had seemed to me disgustingly vulgar, but it now appeared the acme of refinement when the new man opened his mouth to talk. Good gracious me! what extraordinary oaths—what perversion of ideas—what foaming hatred for the Creator, our Saviour, all the saints imaginable, and humanity in general! Evidently the poor man had a screw loose somewhere within his brain-case.

I gave him some tobacco, a quantity of which I carried for my men. Without a word of acknowledgment he seized it, and, with paper my men gave him, proceeded to make himself a cigarette.

"I am tired of this life," said he, as he rolled the tobacco. "I am a slave. I owe my master 1 conto 200 milreis (£80). He sold me this rifle, and some cartridges, and I cannot repay him. I am rotting away with fever. I am dying of starvation, I am going mad in this place.... I have no more food, and have been unable for three days to catch fish. Do not let me die here. Take me with you. I will give you my rifle, this ring"—a cheap ring which he proceeded to take from his finger—"I shall work hard and require no pay if you will save me from death."

I told him that he had better consider his position seriously before doing anything rash. We should not be leaving until the next morning.

[42] The man, whom we shall call X, as I do not wish to divulge his real name, sat up the entire night talking to my men. His excitement was great—at least, judging by the loudness of his voice. During those long sleepless hours—with all of them shouting at the top of their voices it was impossible to sleep—I overheard the entire history of his life. What a life! I prayed my stars that X would change his mind and decide to stay where he was, for though I needed extra men badly I feared that his company would not be a welcome addition to our party, bad as it was. Like all men who have lived much in seclusion, he possessed marvellous vitality and magnetism. My men were simply hypnotised by the remarkable tales of his deeds, or rather misdeeds.

Long before we were ready to start, X went to seat himself in the canoe to make sure we should not leave him behind. When I asked him to reconsider once more what he was doing, which was not fair to his master, no matter how bad he may have been, X positively refused to remain there.

"If you do not want me to come," he said with determination, "you will have to fling me into the water and keep my head under until I am drowned."

That was rather a trying dilemma. Much as I disapprove of slavery, I did not like the idea of taking matters into my own hands and freeing other people's slaves; yet it was impossible to refuse assistance to a suffering man when he asked for it. In any case I had no wish to be responsible for his death.

"X," I said to him, "you have quite made up your mind to go with us?"

[43] "Yes."

"Will you promise faithfully that you will work and give no trouble?"

"May my old father and mother be struck by lightning this moment if I shall give you trouble!" was his reply.

"Very good, X. You can keep your rifle and cartridges and your ring"—he had just deposited them at my feet—"they are your own property. I do not want them. You shall receive the same salary as the other men from this day as long as you do your work satisfactorily."

X jumped out of the canoe to embrace me. On his brutal face was for a moment an expression of gratitude ... he rested his head upon my shoulder and sobbed for many minutes.

With a crew of six men, things were a little better for us. Four could paddle while one steered, and the sixth stood on the prow with a long pole punting, or on the look-out for dangerous obstacles.

X paddled with such vigour that Alcides at the helm had the greatest difficulty in keeping the canoe straight. It had a good effect on the other men, who also paddled away with all their might, and we were speeding along with the strong current almost as fast as a steam launch.

The minimum temperature during the night (July 8th-9th) had been 57° Fahr. The elevation above the sea level of Lucky Island was 1,100 ft.

The River dos Patos came from the S.S.E., then bent to the east where its sources were.

Lucky Island was 250 m. in length. The river had[44] an average width of 80 m. As we went along my men sang gaily, particularly X, who seemed like a bird let out of its cage, so happy did he feel at being a free man again. His répertoire was not of the choicest kind, but what was lacking in quality was made up in quantity. For some hours we were treated to a vocal concert, X's solos sending my men into fits of merriment. His wit—of the crudest kind—was sometimes funny.

This great gaiety seemed most weird in that region where silence reigned supreme always. The voices seemed to travel immense distances, echoed from one side to the other of the river. Words were reproduced with great clearness by the echo two or three times over. Especially when we had forest on both sides of the stream was the echo particularly perfect.

Quantities of rubber trees—absolutely going to waste—were to be seen now on one side, then on the other, of the river where the banks were wooded.

A Rapid on the Arinos River.

Taking the Canoe through a Narrow Channel.

Another most beautiful island, 800 m. long and 80 m. wide—Pedro de Toledo Island—was passed. It had a channel 10 m. wide in a north-westerly direction, another, which we followed, 50 m. broad, north-east. On emerging from this channel at the end of the island we were in a basin 140 m. in diameter. Some 3 kils. farther, another great basin was crossed—very shallow, only 2 ft. deep—with a gravel bottom. The current was swift. Then, 2 kils. beyond, yet another basin, 100 metres wide, 1½ ft. deep, with strong eddies, was crossed. The river, which had so far kept more or less in a northerly direction, at that point actually swung round in two consecutive angles from 350°[45] north to due south, in which direction it flowed for 1,000 m. An immaculately white beach was on the right of us, on which we duly stranded. It was quite enough for Alcides to see an obstacle of any kind in the river for him to send the canoe right over it. I seized that opportunity to land and commence a most interesting collection of the innumerable minute sand plants which were to be found on those beaches.

Where the river turned north once more there stood a hill 100 ft. high, the lower half of which was of red volcanic rock, the upper half of yellow earth. Along the water's edge a thick and florid growth of bamboo could be seen in many places, while on the edge of the forest hung myriads of purple convolvuli. For hundreds of kilometres the Arinos was indeed one of the most ideally beautiful rivers I have ever seen. Its banks of alluvial formation, 25 to 30 ft. high, had chapada on their tops. Farther on the chapada gave way once more to dense forest with plentiful rubber trees. Another basin, 150 m. in diameter, was met with, after which we entered a channel from 40 to 50 m. wide, through which the stream was compressed.

A pretty little islet of gravel, 100 m. long, 20 m. wide, and rising 6 ft. above the water, had a tuft of trees growing on it, and a spur, also of gravel, extending westward for more than another 100 m. The river in that section flowed in a W.N.W. direction for 1,400 m.

We soon after came to a shallow basin (1 ft. deep) 100 m. wide, in which eddies were strong and troublesome. There were many pointed rocks scattered about in its bed of gravel, as well as three parallel rocky barriers right across the basin.

[46] A rivulet 2 m. wide at the mouth entered the Arinos on the right side, while on the left side we had an island 800 m. long, leaving two channels, one 10 m. wide, the other 40 m. A tiny streamlet flowed into the main stream on the left. Banks, regular dunes of gravel, were formed where the river broadened into basins. We came to a basin 400 m. wide and extremely shallow. Three channels—W.N.W., N.W., and N.N.E.—were formed in the river by two islands, each 400 m. long—the Two Sisters Islands—which were in the centre. We found the N.N.E. channel the best. Where the river narrowed again to a width of 50 m. huge rocks stood in the centre. From that point for some 300 m. we went over a succession of gravel banks and nasty rocks forming barriers across the stream.

Small streamlets entered the Arinos, one on the left, the other on the right. A cluster of high rocks was on the right bank. On both sides were extensive white sand beaches. The river soon widened to 100 m. in a basin with an islet 12 ft. high, and a cluster of trees on its north-east side. Another island 6 ft. high, 80 m. long—Mosquito Island—with a spit of gravel to the south, was near it.

Rubber trees were most plentiful on the right bank where the forest was thick, whereas on the left bank was chapada. Huge gorgeous butterflies with black-striped brown wings and velvety bodies flew in great numbers around the canoe. Some settled on my hat, hands, and on the sleeves of my white shirt. They were so unaccustomed to see human beings that when touched they did not attempt to fly away.

The river was getting more and more wonderful[47] every hour as we went along—in great straight lines of 3,500 m., 3,000 m., 2,200 m., 2,000 m., 4,000 m., in length.

Some ducks rose from the water only a few yards in front of the canoe. The man who was behind me fired with his carbine close to my head. The bullet grazed my right ear. It was a trifle trying to be travelling with such careless sportsmen, but the best thing was to say nothing and go on.

A big island—Passos Island—300 m. long, preceded by a smaller islet 80 m. long—Passos Junior I.—was subsequently passed, where the river formed a channel (N.W.) 50 m. wide and a minor one (W.) 30 m.

The river there changed from a westerly course to W.S.W. Once more we had before us a great wall of red rock which at first seemed to bar our way. In the lower section of the wall was a cave eroded by water and extending some way back. It was too low to be entered by the canoe. The lower stratum of the wall was at an angle—in other words, had a dip of 21°—while the stratum above it, 30 ft. in thickness, intersected by a yellow band, was perfectly horizontal. On the left side of this high natural wall was a charming waterfall of limpid water. Farther on a great land-slip displayed for a length of 40 m. brilliant red earth over a stratum 60 ft. thick of white chalk. The river, which described a number of turns, was bordered on the left side by a hill range covered with handsome trees.

The ardour of my men for rowing had already passed away. They smoked and sang the whole time, and let the current—fortunately strong—carry us along.[48] Whenever I remonstrated they scooped the water carelessly with their paddles for a few minutes. As is the case with individuals mentally deficient, everything seemed to distract them. One moment it was the flight of a jacutinga—a handsome black gallinaceous bird with a white crest. Another moment it was the jump of an inquisitive fish. Many mergulhão commun (Podiceps Americanus), wonderfully graceful, velvety black birds with long beaks, flew about unconcerned from tree to tree. Whenever anything moved about anywhere, the paddles were abandoned, the rifles were seized, and there was a regular fusillade. The men seldom hit anything, although on many occasions, with the unsteady canoe, we all of us had narrow escapes. One day the man in front of me fired a shot at a bird—but so close to my head, not more than one foot away, that the concussion blinded me for several seconds. On other occasions the rifles went off when they were not expected to. I had ceased to give orders of any kind about the careful use of the weapons. It was time and lung-power absolutely wasted, and only made things worse.

After floating down a beautiful stretch of 3,000 m., two more islands were reached within a great circle over 200 m. wide. A small tributary entered the Arinos on the right bank. Another island, 500 m. long, was seen farther down, at the end of which, where two channels met again, violent eddies were produced by the meeting of the two strong currents.

Immense quantities of Siphonia elastica were there to be seen on both sides of the stream in the forest, which was getting more and more luxuriant as we[49] proceeded on our journey farther north. Many wild banana palms (bananeira do matto) were to be seen here and there along the lovely, deliciously clean river, with its extraordinarily tidy banks.

Another great basin, 300 m. in diameter, was met, with three islands and two gravel beaches in its centre. The two principal islands—Paolo and Francesca—were each 100 m. long and 50 m. wide.

We now made the acquaintance of the capivara (Hydrochoerus capibara), a rodent which we found common farther down in those waters. It was a stupid animal. When fired at several times by my men it remained perfectly still, gazing at its enemies. It was only when a bullet hit the ground too near that it would move away, surprised more than concerned.

After going down a corrideira (small rapid) we encountered thousands of white and lemon-yellow butterflies. On islets of red earth swarms of them were basking in the sun—which was getting hotter and hotter as we got farther north.

Again we were soon after faced by a high natural wall of brilliant yellow and red colouring. In its western part it showed a white stratum 3 ft. thick upon a layer of yellow lava of an equal thickness. A stratum of lighter yellow was nearest the surface of the water, while above was a thick layer of grey earth. On the right side, at this point, a tributary streamlet flowed into the Arinos. The basin formed by the crescent-shaped wall was perfectly circular. When the river emerged from it, it folded back from 40° b.m. to 290°.

Owing to the steepness of the banks we experienced[50] difficulty in finding a suitable camping place for the night. Eventually at sunset we had to clear with our big knives a patch in the dirty forest on the edge of the stream. I never liked to camp out of sight of the canoe in case anything happened during the night—an attack, a flood, a forest fire, or anybody trying to steal or get away with the canoe; the danger from my own men being quite as great as from any enemy I could have found. I well knew that if we lost that canoe we were done for entirely.

There was a great falling off in the distance covered that day owing to the laziness of my men. We had only gone 67 kil. 600 m.—or 22 kil. 250 m. less than the previous day, when we had travelled less hours and gone easily over a distance of 89 kil. 850 m.

[51]

## CHAPTER IV

Oleo Pardo Trees—Beautiful Palms—The River Bottom—Swarms of Butterflies—Millions of Bees—A Continuous Torture

The night of July 10th was cool—minimum temperature 58° F. When we departed at 7.10 in the morning the river was extremely tortuous at first—in one place actually veering from north to due south. On the right side of us was a lake divided by a low bank, 3 to 5 ft. high, from the river by which it was fed. The entrance into the lake was narrow. We had hardly gone 1 kil. when we found ourselves in a great basin 300 m. long, 200 m. wide, with one large island—Nellie Island—150 m. in length, and several other small islets in its centre.

Another lagoon was shortly after reached on the right bank, its inlet being 10 m. wide.

The waters of the Arinos were, at this point, of a leaden placidity. We seemed to travel slowly now that the current did not help us. The river was again compressed into a deep channel 50 m. wide. Before us loomed a cliff 100 ft. high, reflected with irreproachable faithfulness in the almost still waters of the stream. There was not a breath of wind to disturb the mirror-like surface, nor to cool our sweating brows in the stifling heat of the broiling sun. The lower 40[52] to 60 ft. of the cliff was red, the upper light yellow—almost white. Where we reached this rocky wall there was a circle 150 m. in diameter, with a low, thickly-wooded triangular island, 80 m. long, 100 m. wide—Eleonora Island.

The north-eastern passage was shallow, with a stony bottom. We followed the northern channel along the vertical wall. On leaving the island we came to a stretch 2,500 m. long of beautiful water flowing due north, with ideally fascinating banks embellished by dense vegetation—neat, clean, and healthy—of the richest green.

After crossing a bay, 100 m. wide, with volcanic rocks showing through on both banks and in the river bed, the stream was squeezed through a rocky neck 25 m. wide, and spread again immediately afterwards to its normal width of 50 m. We were beginning to find big rocks more frequently, many in the river channel—a bad sign for us, for I feared we might soon encounter rapids.

Wonderful oleo pardo trees (Myrocarpus frondosus Fr. All.), with their octopus-like branches hanging down to the water, were fairly common in that region. There were two kinds of oleo trees in Brazil—the brown or oleo pardo and the red or oleo vermelho, the latter technically known as Myrospermum erytroxylon Fr. All.

We subsequently entered a basin 150 m. wide which contained a circular island 100 m. in diameter—Horus Island.

Eight hundred metres farther we came to another large circular bay with a large globular mass of lava on[53] its left side. The current was very swift over a nasty rocky bottom. The canoe was suddenly flung by the current between an accumulation of rocks and an island, and, as we found it impossible to turn, floated down at an uncomfortable speed through a narrow channel, dodging as best we could the many ugly rocks just below the surface of the water. At the end of this channel we encountered violent eddies forming wide circles of most treacherous water—although on the surface it looked placid enough.

The tributary Sumidoro, 30 m. wide at its mouth, entered the Arinos from the west-south-west at this point. Its water was deliciously clear. A little way off to the left we could hear the noise of a waterfall on the Sumidoro, before it joined the Arinos.

The river, after the meeting of this important tributary, became even more exquisitely beautiful than before. Rocks strewn about added to the picturesqueness of the landscape as well as to the dangers of navigation, while springs of crystalline water, cool and quite delicious to drink, descended here and there from the banks.

The river had an average width of 60 m. in this part, and was much strewn with broken-up volcanic boulders, especially on the left bank. On the right bank was a beach of immaculate white sand. For 300 m. we went over a great stony place with shallow water. We had to be careful, but all the same many times did we bump with great force and get stuck upon submerged rocks—which we could not see owing to the blinding, glittering refraction of the sun upon the troubled waters.

[54] A tributary 4 m. wide, coming from the north-east, entered the Arinos on the right bank. A great number of rubber trees were to be seen on the right bank, where the forest was luxuriant; but not on the left bank, where the growth of trees was scanty. Carandá or burity or tucuman palms were plentiful along the water's edge near the spot where a small rivulet entered the Arinos on the left bank. Two thousand metres farther down we came upon denuded country, low, and liable to inundation when the river rose. Farther on were campos and open country, with the exception of a thin row of trees immediately along the river. On the left we had luxuriant forest, wonderfully healthy, neat and clean. The stream was there beautiful—60 to 70 m. wide.

When we had gone 10 kils. 800 m. more the entire channel became strewn with rocks and mounds only 1 ft. below the surface of the water, and not unlike parallel small dunes of sand with a deposit of gravel upon them. For 700 m. the river was obstructed and navigation rendered somewhat troublesome.

Where the river turned from bearings magnetic 310° to 360° (due N.) we went over a nasty stony place with a strong corrideira above it, and we were confronted with a rocky barrier almost the entire width across the stream. We kept on the west side, the only way where it was possible to get the canoe through. A little farther another corrideira, stronger than the first, obliged us to find a passage on the east side of the river—which bore upon its bank campos and chapada. Curious mounds of white sand and gravel were visible in the centre of the river, and also near[55] the left bank below the second corrideira; then we came to parallel ridges of white sand and gravel right across the river bottom at an angle of 45° in relation to the general direction of the stream.

Two tributaries, one 3 m. wide on the left bank, the other 4 m. wide on the right side (the latter coming from the north-east), swelled the Arinos from that point. The width of the stream was now increased to 80 m., the water being shallow. The bed of the river was ever changing, and supplied me with constant interest. It was adorned with strangely precise triangles of beautiful white sand exposed through a layer of gravel which covered most of the river bottom.

A thickly-wooded hill range, 150 ft. high and extending from W.S.W. to E.N.E., stood to the north of us. Its slopes, eroded by the water, had caused a landslip, leaving bare vertical red rock for half the height of the hill-range and two much eroded spurs of bright yellow and white earth extending into the stream.

The river at that point turned from north to east. Open country was again on our right after leaving the hill range, and lowlands liable to inundation. Soon afterwards, however, higher land appeared with banks 35 ft. high.

Swarms of small white butterflies played upon the banks on the edge of the water.

Sand and gravel mounds were numerous in the centre of the channel, with occasional basins of shallow water with corrideiras upon them. For instance, in one of those places for 150 m. the river was only from 1 to 3 ft. deep, and we had to drag the long heavy[56] canoe, which drew 2 ft. of water, along the undulating gravel bed. In fact, we spent a good deal of our time every day in the water, pushing or pulling along the canoe over innumerable obstacles, her great length making it difficult to navigate her properly through the many shallow and tortuous passages.

In a circular basin, 120 m. in diameter, beyond that point we encountered strong eddies near the left bank. On the north side big rocks emerged from the water and a corrideira was formed.

An island 50 m. long and two other islets were separated from the mainland by two channels, one 20 m. wide and only 3 in. deep—the other 60 m. wide and 3 ft. deep. The right bank was there 45 ft. high.

Fifteen hundred metres farther down we entered another basin 200 m. in diameter, with an island 80 m. long and eight dry beaches of gravel.

My men were greatly excited in trying to capture a capivara they had wounded. We actually got the animal on board, but my men were so timid in going near it that it jumped overboard again and made its escape.

The right bank, which had been high, was now reduced to only 4 ft. above the water; whereas the left bank rose to a height of 46 ft. A rivulet 3 m. wide coming from the west had cut its way through the latter bank.

The main river was getting more and more magnificent at every turn. I should have enjoyed the journey very much had it not been for the constant attention I had to pay to my men, who left their paddles and steering gear at every moment in order to[57] fire recklessly at birds or ariranhas or capivaras, much to the danger of everybody on board. They would blaze away with their repeating rifles—and bullet cartridges, of course—at parrots and even colibri birds 100 or 200 metres off. They said the rifles were bad because they could never hit anything! I had ceased scolding them. They made me positively ill with pity, I was only praying for our supply of cartridges to come to an end soon, so that if we were to die at all it might not be through being pierced by one of our own bullets.

The river had been flowing, with slight deviations, northwards.

We came to an enchanting island 70 m. wide, with thick vegetation upon it and fine rocks.

The river in that portion flowed practically north in great stretches of 6,000 and 4,000 m. Another large and beautiful island, 250 m. long and 70 wide—Ghislaine Island—was passed, and we admired the gorgeous vegetation upon it.

Below the island the river was 100 m. wide and very shallow—not more than from 1 to 4 ft. in depth. We halted at sunset, having gone that day 92 kil. 300 m.

During the night of July 11th my men suffered a great deal from cold, the thermometer being as low as 45° Fahrenheit. In the morning there was a thick fog over the river—so thick that we had to delay our departure until eight o'clock, as we could not see more than two or three metres ahead.

Two kilometres beyond we came to a rivulet, 2 m. wide, on the left bank, and soon after to a small corri[58]deira with a navigable channel in the centre. Three hundred metres farther down we passed another tributary on the right bank. There was open country with sparse stunted trees on the left of us, thick forest with plenty of rubber trees on the right. I noticed several good specimens of the pao dolce—a tree with a curious cluster of yellow flowers not unlike the flower of wistaria upside down. Not only was the pao dolce pretty to look at, but a most refreshing beverage could be made from a decoction of its leaves.

The course of the river was winding, with basins and rapids of no great importance. Another tributary 2 m. wide was reached on the left bank, and soon after another tiny streamlet entered the Arinos from the same side.

I had a narrow escape. One of the men, who was sitting behind me in the canoe, saw an ariranha (Lutra Brasiliensis) put its head out of the water only ten metres in front of the canoe. In his great hurry to kill the beautiful animal he seized his rifle and emptied the eight shots out of his magazine, firing the first three shots close to my head on the left side, the other five just as close on the other side. The muzzle of his rifle was so near my ear that the noise deafened me for several minutes and my hair was almost singed off. The ariranha, needless to say, escaped unhurt, and luckily so did I.

We went over a long strip of shallow water from 1 to 3 ft. deep. We now had open country on the right bank, with a small streamlet finding its way into the Arinos on that side. The river was flowing again in long straight stretches—3,000 m., 2,000 m., 2,500 m.[59] in length. In the portions where the banks were thickly wooded innumerable rubber trees were to be seen.

In the centre of a basin 150 m. wide we found another island, 100 m. long and 50 m. wide, absolutely smothered in vegetation and with a handsome gravel spit at its southern end. Two kilometres farther another basin, 300 m. broad, appeared. An amazing quantity of rubber trees was to be seen round that basin. Near the water we also found fine specimens of the mate (Ilex Paraguayensis St. Hil.), with its wax-like leaves, much used in certain parts of South America for making a kind of tea.

For close upon 13 kils. the river flowed—with slight deviations—almost always due north, and with its limpid waters was of extraordinary beauty. The country was open on the right side of us. We saw that day two white urubú (Cathartes). The Brazilians have a curious superstition about them. They say that if you write with a quill taken from the wing of one of these birds any business which you may be transacting will go well; in fact, anything you may wish to do and which you set down on paper with one of these quills and ink is sure to turn out successfully.

That day I again suffered much, while taking astronomical observations, from the millions of bees and other insects which settled in swarms upon my hands and face and stung me all over. We were then in lat. 12° 26′·5 S., long. 56° 37′ W. The temperature in the sun was not unbearable—merely 85° Fahr.

In the afternoon, after we had enjoyed an excellent lunch of fish, tinned provisions, and rice—my men also[60] enjoying their feijao (boiled beans)—we continued our journey. The river for 9,000 m. displayed first clean campos and chapada on the left bank and dense forest on the right, then campos on the right bank and a belt of forest along the river on the left.

The campos were particularly neat in that region—merely a few burity and tucum palms flourishing on the edge of the water. In other localities a thick growth of beautiful bamboos interspersed with gigantic palms lined the banks.

Where the river turned due east we came to fairly strong rapids. The water was shallow with mounds of gravel, and we bumped about a great deal. Eventually we all had to get into the water and push the canoe along for greater comfort.

The river next formed a huge basin, 900 m. long and 200 m. wide. A small tributary flowed into the Arinos in the crescent-shaped bank on the right. That bank had a height of 80 ft. On its summit quantities of Siphonia elastica were to be admired. Farther down it was on the left side that the river had high banks, some 60 ft. high.

We went over a charming little corrideira. Strong eddies were encountered on emerging from the rapids. Where the right bank became lower—only 40 ft.—chapada replaced the forest. The left bank was but 1 ft. above the level of the river, and the low country beyond (south) was naturally liable to inundation. For 4,000 m. the left bank was never higher than 4 ft. The right bank also suddenly became very low in that region.

Where the river turned from 290° b.m. to 320°[61] b.m., there was a basin 700 m. broad with low banks. An island—Lydia Island—200 m. in circumference, rose within this basin on the north side and was luxuriantly wooded.

We found that day beautiful beaches of gravel, mostly on the right side. Then strong rapids and corrideiras; below these more clean-looking gravel beaches—this time on the left—were visible, and an extensive island of gravel close to the right bank.

For 8,000 m. the gorgeous stream flowed almost in a direct line northward, with dense forest and a wealthy growth of rubber trees on both sides. Wonderful figueira trees with their spotless white branches embellished the landscape.

On the left a tributary of some size entered the Arinos from the south-east in two arms with an island between; the largest arm was 40 m. wide, the smaller 10 m. Then another stream entered the Arinos on the right side.

We were again confronted by a large basin enclosed on the north by a crescent-shaped wall 100 ft. high, at the foot of which at the level of the river was a quantity of débris of yellow rock. The river at that spot turned sharply from 20° b.m. (N.N.E.) to 290° b.m.—that is to say, almost north-west. The width of the Arinos at this point was from 80 to 100 m.

Towards sunset we came to a beautiful island 200 m. long. We cleared a sufficiently large space in the dense and gorgeous vegetation to make our camp for the night.

[62]

## CHAPTER V

Great Islands—The Trinchão Fish—A Fisherman's Paradise—Alastor Island—Plentiful Rubber—The Civilized Man's Idea of the Tropical Forest—The War-Cries of the Indians—Swarms of Bees and Butterflies

We had another cool night on July 12th—minimum temperature 47° F. It was very damp, and in the morning we had, as on the previous day, a thick mist which prevented our starting until it cleared up, at 7.40 a.m. The mist rose in columns and square blocks over the warmish water of the river. The right bank of the Arinos was 40 ft. high.

We had gone some 1,500 m. from our camp when we came to a magnificent island, 400 m. long and 200 m. wide—Griselda Island—which divided the stream into two channels.

All the islands we had seen of late showed on the up-stream side a more or less extensive spit of beautifully coloured gravel and glittering crystals. The latter shone in the sun with such iridescent luminosity that it gave those islands a fairy-like appearance.

We encountered troublesome eddies which swung the canoe about, and in one case actually spun her completely round in a most alarming manner, tearing out of Alcides' hands the steering gear, which we had some trouble in recovering.

[63] There were many handsome large-leafed pacová, somewhat resembling banana palms; also quantities of Siphonia elastica, although these were not quite so plentiful as farther south nor the trees so high. A tiny brook of delicious water descended into the Arinos from the left bank.

Ten thousand five hundred metres farther down from Griselda Island we came to another island, 300 m. long and 50 m. broad—Negrino Island—with the usual spit of gravel and beautiful crystals on the south side. This island was 10 ft. high above the water, with some trees on it, but not such luxuriant vegetation as on most of the other islands we had seen.

A stream 5 m. wide at the mouth, coming from the N.N.W., entered the Arinos on the right side. The main river had a direction of 305° b.m.—that is to say, virtually north-west. Great volcanic slabs of rock and sand-banks were now reached.

The sun was not extraordinarily hot—90° F. at noon. The country on either side was open—chiefly chapada. Beautiful gravel beaches were now seen, extending half-way across the river, particularly from the left side.

Another tributary 5 m. wide coming from the N.N.E. was passed on our right, and beyond this a thick forest with rubber trees was visible, while chapada continued on the left.

Round a big basin 200 m. in diameter, containing shallow water from 1 to 6 ft. deep, stood a mass of gigantic trees with verdant healthy foliage, and innumerable abnormally tall burity palms, over 100 ft. high, and tucum (Astrocaryum tucuma)—also of immense size.

Many huge trinchão fish followed our canoe for some[64] time, gazing curiously at us. They came so impudently near that my men actually hit them on the head with their paddles.

One more streamlet entered the Arinos on the right side just before we reached a big basin, 250 m. in diameter, with wonderful gravel beaches in regular little mounds stretching half-way across the basin. Another little tributary (on the right side) came next, 7,000 m. farther down stream. The vegetation was there so dense and so entangled that we could find nowhere a suitable spot on which to land for our midday halt. About noon, however, chapada and open country again appeared on the right bank for a distance of some 2,000 m.

A Formidable Vortex.

Going down a Violent Rapid in a Narrow Channel.

There we indulged in a plentiful lunch, the country round being as still as death. Not a sign could be seen anywhere of a human being; not a column of smoke indicating the presence of man rose anywhere in the clear sky. Nowhere did we meet disturbed vegetation; nowhere did we notice a trail or a passage through the vegetation coming to the water; nowhere did we meet abandoned camps or any signs whatever that human beings had ever lived there. There was no animal life of fair size on the surface; no parrots, no monkeys, no mammals of any kind—only millions of insects, which made one's life a burden.

It was not so with the river, which was swarming with innocent fish, only too ready to be killed and supply us with excellent meals. The reason, of course, that the river was so full of fish, and that the fish displayed such delightful simplicity, was because there were there no human beings.

[65] Soon after leaving camp—all the happier for an excellent lunch—we came once more to thick, beautiful, clean forest on both sides. Again rubber was plentiful, and absolutely untouched by the collector's hand. The river was getting amazingly beautiful, 200 m. wide all along, the water like a faultless silver mirror irreproachably reflecting each leaf, each branch of the motionless trees on both banks. There was not a breath of wind to disturb the tranquillity of that deliciously restful scene.

Yet one more gorgeous island—Alastor Island—300 m. long and 80 to 100 m. wide, was seen. It was preceded on the south-east side by innumerable gravel mounds just emerging above the water surface, then by a magnificent gravel beach with numberless beautiful crystals. On the left bank a tributary 15 m. wide entered the Arinos from the south-west.

The river was getting more and more entrancing at every turn. Profuse blossoms of the most gorgeous yellow shone resplendent in all their beauty against the background of dark green foliage. The entire edge of the forest was festooned with daintily-leafed creepers and with myriads of convolvuli of the purest amethyst colour.

There was poetry in the scene—frequently disturbed, perhaps, by the inconceivable oaths of the man to whom was entrusted the heavy task of baling out the water from the canoe, which leaked badly. She was fissured from end to end, and we had no effective means of preventing the water coming in; in fact, if the baling were not done quickly and continuously with a bucket, the water soon gained and reached[66] the platform on which we had placed the baggage. Our feet, of course, were in water all day long. We did not mind that so much. In fact, our feet got so soaked with moisture that we could peel off the skin in big patches with the greatest ease.

After travelling across a basin 250 m. broad, we came to a corrideira with shallow water. We dashed with great speed sideways over a bank of gravel, and nearly turned turtle. The gravel was banked up against the lee side of the canoe, and with a strong current pushing her we had the greatest trouble to pull her off again.

There was a great deal of rubber, particularly on the left bank, while on the right, chapada was again observed. The river was so wonderfully tidy that, had it not been for its great breadth, one would have felt as if going through a watercourse in England.

From the east came a little tributary, 2 m. wide, on the right bank. Another beautiful island, 500 m. long and 80 m. wide—Helena Island—a most enchanting place, preceded by the usual gravel mounds and beach, was passed in the afternoon. Small streamlets entered the main stream, one on each side—one 6 kils. beyond Helena Island, the other one a little farther.

The river maintained its average width of 200 m. nearly all the time. Late in the afternoon we passed on the left bank a hill 120 ft. high, belonging to a range that extended from E.S.E. to W.N.W. at an angle to the river, which there flowed in a direction almost north. There was plenty of rubber of excellent quality near the water.

Shortly after leaving this range we came to a[67] lagoon, then to open campos behind a thin row of stunted trees on the left bank. The lagoon was situated at a point where the river described a curve from north to 70° b.m. Two small streamlets entered the Arinos on the right. We made camp near a small lagoon in the forest shortly after sunset.

The distance we had travelled during the last two days was 86 kil. 900 m. on July 11th, and 76 kil. 600 m. on July 12th, or altogether 163 kil. 500 m.

To anybody accustomed to travelling in equatorial countries it seems amazing, on returning to civilization, to find what curious notions people have of the tropical forest. Even in the case of writers of distinction I could quote many passages which are painfully ridiculous. One of the greatest modern Italian writers, for instance—who, by the way, in one of his latest novels, copied almost word for word many pages from my books—added the poetic touch that in the tropical forest flowers were found so large that they could not be picked, and fruit so enormous that no human tooth could bite it! Again, the majority of people believe that it is impossible to go through the forest without cutting your way all the time—the "cutting a way through" meaning to most people the constant chopping down of trees of all sizes, undergrowth, bamboos, liane, and other creepers. As a matter of fact, any experienced traveller has much less trouble in going through the forest than people imagine. This is not the case with people unacquainted with the forest, or with people whose sense of observation is not much developed. One can go sometimes for miles through the dense forest without once using knives at all;[68] although necessarily a knife must be carried, as there are places where a cut from its blade will make passing through more comfortable. This is particularly true of the Brazilian forest. The forests of that country, especially in the central region where I was then travelling, were wonderfully clean, when once you entered them, although, when seen from the river, they appeared impenetrable. Near the water, owing to the moisture, there was frequently a thick but narrow belt—only a few metres wide—of dense growth. Beyond it, when you were in the forest itself, nothing grew under the trees, and the ground was just as clean as the best kept English park. One could walk in comfort without the slightest trouble, an occasional well-applied blow with the heavy-bladed knife disentangling in a second an interfering liana which might stand in one's way.

It must not be forgotten that you can get under or over liane, or shift them on one side, without ever having the trouble of severing them. It is only occasionally, when they are entangled, that it saves time to cut them. Barring an occasional thick belt along the Amazon River, it is almost safe to assert that an experienced man can travel, alone, anywhere in the forests of Brazil without carrying a penknife. This is not the case, of course, when you are travelling with a caravan and with baggage, when a sufficiently large passage has to be opened.

In Africa the equatorial forests are incomparably more difficult to traverse than the Brazilian forests, and those who assert the Brazilian forests to be impenetrable only say so because they do not know what[69] they are talking about. Even when it comes to actually chopping down trees in the Brazilian forests, one blow with the axe or with the knife will easily cut down a fair-sized tree. As I have already stated elsewhere, most of the Brazilian forest trees have no resistance whatever. They are full of water, and, with a judicious blow, can be cut almost as easily as celery. Many are the trees also, the inside of which near the ground has been eaten up entirely by ants, and it was not uncommon when you leant heavily against a tree that you and the tree tumbled down. Ants do not seem to attack lactiferous trees, such as those producing rubber, which therefore flourished in that particular region.

Most of the trees in that particular part of the forest were small in diameter, and only had branches or leaves at a very great height. That was why the forests in Brazil looked so extraordinarily clean beneath, in contrast to the equatorial forest in such countries as Central Africa or the Philippine Islands. The wonderful cleanliness of the river, to which I have so often alluded, was a great contrast to the masses of floating decomposing vegetation which is always to be seen in the African rivers.

The minimum temperature during the night of July 13th was 51° Fahr. During that night we were suddenly roused by our dogs barking furiously. We heard strange noises, as if people were trying to run away quickly through the forest. Indians had, much to our surprise, come quite close to our camp, and had it not been for the alarm given by the dogs we should most likely have been attacked by them. In the[70] morning we heard in the distance their war-cries and piercing ululations, which rent the air. Judging merely by the noise they made, there must have been from thirty to fifty of them. My men were greatly excited over this experience. These Indians belonged, I think, to the Tapanhonas tribe.

We left our camp at 7.45 in the morning. As the river was there in an almost straight line for 8 kil., we continued hearing—more and more faintly, of course, as we went on—for some distance the excited yells of the Indians.

The left bank, through which a streamlet cut its way into the Arinos, was fairly open with chapada. An island, 150 m. wide and 200 m. long—Julia Island—was next seen. It had an extensive beach of gravel at its southern end, and the island itself was covered with dense and very beautiful vegetation. Another streamlet 1 m. wide entered the Arinos opposite the island from the left side. Farther on another streamlet, 3 m. wide at the mouth, and coming from the north, flowed into the main stream on the right side. Three and a half kilometres farther another tributary streamlet, also 3 m. wide, was met on the right. We there saw chapada on both banks as we went along, with merely a thin edge of trees along the river.

Where the river described a graceful elbow, a charming tongue of land, with deliciously green grass upon it, was most refreshing to the eyes. A river 8 m. wide at the mouth was met a little way beyond on the left side. We noticed opposite that place a beautiful spot for making a camp, but it was not a convenient hour for us, and so we went along.

[71] About 1,500 m. farther down a long narrow island (200 m. long, 80 m. wide)—Gemma Island—heavily wooded, was passed and admired. It had the usual gravel spit on its southern or up-stream point, the river in that particular spot flowing due north in a perfectly straight line for 4,000 m. The island stood in the centre of a basin 200 m. broad. There were campos and chapada on the left bank.

We landed on the island, and found most beautifully clean forest, nice and cool in the greenish dim light which penetrated through the dense masses of foliage. Particularly noticeable for their beauty were the handsome large mimosas.

On the right bank of the river was forest with plenty of rubber trees, but occasionally even on that side patches of what the Brazilians call serradão (close forest) were met with.

A hill range 120 ft. high formed a crescent from west to north-west on the left side of the stream. A kilometre and a half farther forest was to be seen on the left side of the river; whereas on the right was chapada and campos, quite open. A picturesque rocky island, 15 m. in diameter, in laminated horizontal and rich brown volcanic rock, rose 3 ft. above the water in the centre of the stream. From that spot for 2 kil. I noticed chapada on the right bank; then after that was beautiful dense forest on both sides, with innumerable vigorous rubber trees.

The river there was 200 m. wide and had shallow water with strong corrideiras over enormous parallel transverse dunes of sand and gravel which formed the bottom. Islets of gravel were exposed, especially near[72] the left bank and in the centre, leaving only a more or less navigable channel near the right bank.

We ran aground many a time along the 500 m. of shallow water, varying from 6 in. to 3 ft. deep. We emerged into a large basin 300 m. wide where eddies of no great strength were formed. On the edge of the beautiful basin we halted for our lunch, and to take the usual astronomical observations at local noon. We were in lat. 12° 26′·5 S.; long. 56° 47′ W.

I do not know if I have ever seen such swarms of bees and butterflies as I saw at that place. They seemed to swoop down upon us in myriads from all sides. Taking the solar observations with the sextant and artificial horizon, I endured positive torture with the hundreds of bees which settled on my forehead, nose and hands; while thousands of mosquitoes and ants stung my legs, arms and face in those spots where it was not possible to wrap myself up with towels.

It will be noticed in most of the photographs which were taken along the river, and some of which illustrate this book, that all my men have their heads wrapped up. This was done as a protection against the tantalizing insects. The temperature was warm; that day, for instance, was 105° F. in the sun and 86° in the shade.

We left again at 1.15, my men being—for a change—in a good mood, owing to the amusing time we always had fishing. We had been making excellent progress during the last two or three days. The strange man X enlivened our journey with diabolical songs and with crude wit, which sent his companions into fits of laughter. When they were in a merry mood or[73] excited, I noticed that they paddled along much quicker and better, so I did not try to put a check to the abominable language which would have jarred the feelings of any one not born and bred in the interior of Brazil.

It was quite interesting to me to find in that region so much chapada and open country, as I had fully expected to find thick forest all along. What struck me particularly on the Arinos, and which I could not very well explain, was that nearly invariably, when you had thick forest on one side of the stream, you had open country on the other, and only seldom noticed either forest or campos on both sides of the stream at the same time.

After passing chapada on the left bank we came to a great many rocks just above water. A river 3 m. wide entered the Arinos on the right side, and there was to be seen an immense quantity of beautiful rubber trees—as yet untouched by human being. The river kept its width of 200 m. After going along chapada on the left bank for some 3 kil., we came to magnificent forest—this time on both sides—with a luxuriant growth of rubber trees.

The scene, in its wonderful quietude, was most impressive. It made one's heart bleed to think that such rich land should lie unknown and unexploited in these enlightened and enterprising days of the twentieth century.

The sky above us was always interesting, with its typical filaments of mist, their lengthy radiations faintly marked upon the vivid blue of the sky vault and making a centre in the north. These radiations were[74] in appearance not unlike giant ostrich feathers. They were formed, I think, over the great streams which flowed northwards into the Amazon.

We were troubled that day with numerous eddies and shallow water, owing to the great width of the river. Innumerable mounds of gravel rose in the centre of the stream up to a few inches below the water level.

Another hill range, 100 ft. high, met that day was crescent-shaped, the arc of a circle thus described being from south-east by east to north-east.

The hill range on the north-east side of us was eroded, exposing a red vertical wall 60 ft. high. A small river 2 m. wide coming from the east entered the Arinos on the right bank.

For 3,500 m. from that point the stream had an average width of 250 m., and was really magnificent with the wonderful cleanliness of the water—not the slightest impurity, not a speck of wood or a leaf floating upon its surface.

Fourteen kilometres of heavenly navigation—barring X's language and the comments of his companions—and we came to an ideal triangular island, 1,200 m. long, 200 m. wide at its broadest point, with the usual extensive gravel spit at its southern end—Victor Emmanuel Island. The vegetation upon it was too gorgeous for words, but there was no animal life except insects.

Four kilometres farther a basin 300 m. in diameter and from 1 to 6 ft. deep was crossed, in which a strong corrideira was met. The navigable channel was in the centre of the basin. A stream 10 m. wide, of most beautiful crystalline water, which had its origin from[75] the south-west, threw itself into the Arinos on the left side, some 2,000 m. below the basin.

From this point for 8 kil. the river flowed with a slight deviation of 10° in a northerly direction. The left bank of the river was now quite open, with patches of chapada and somewhat taller but still stunted vegetation beyond; a thin row of tall trees lined the river side. On the right bank was luxuriant forest, and again plenty of beautiful rubber trees. Two islets of gravel were next seen.

We were experiencing great difficulty in getting suitable camping places at the right time when we needed them. By 4.30, having come across a spot which seemed suitable, we halted, having gone that day 85 kil. 700 m.

[76]

## CHAPTER VI

The Tapirus Americanus—Striking Scenery—The Mate Tree—Photography in Camp—Brazilian Way of Reasoning—A New Christopher Columbus—The Selection of our Camps—Beautiful Fruit—A Large Tributary

We were still at an elevation of 1,100 ft. The water was almost stagnant, and was evidently being held up by some obstacle. I feared that we should soon encounter nasty rapids. Watching the sky, I was generally able to foretell what was ahead of us in the river. In fact, a pretty mackerel sky, particularly to the north-west, showed me that the water of our river must be breaking up considerably, either in rapids or waterfalls, in order to produce sufficient moisture in the air to cause the accumulation of those cloudlets. I always noticed that wherever there were heavy rapids farther down clouds of more or less magnitude formed directly above them at a comparatively low elevation, and remained there owing to the perfect stillness of the air.

On the night of July 14th the cold was felt intensely by my men, the thermometer actually showing a minimum of 38° F.

During the night my men had a great excitement. A large pachyderm, an anta (Tapirus Americanus) inquisitively came in the midst of our camp. It was[77] evidently as much astonished at seeing us as we were in discovering its presence. My men had been firing their cartridges away during the day at rocks, at fish in the river, and so on, so that when their rifles were really needed the magazines were all empty, and gave the anta plenty of time to hop away gracefully into the darkness of the forest.

I had given orders to them to keep watch all night, as a precaution against an attack from the Indians, but my orders were, as usual, disobeyed. Personally, I took the first watch every night, sitting up till 2 a.m., which time I occupied in writing up my notes, working out computations of astronomical observations, classifying the botanical and geological specimens collected during the day, and replenishing my cameras with new plates.

My men had eaten up all the supply of beans (feijao) I had purchased at Diamantino, and therefore even the cook could not be kept awake during the night. The first rubber collector I had picked up when coming down the Arinos was now our cook, and diabolical indeed was his cuisine. Several times already his life had been in danger from the angry attacks of his companions, the quantities of pepper he sprinkled on everything he cooked causing us all to cough sometimes for half-hours at a time. He was very fond of pepper himself, and could not understand why none of us liked it.

During the night we still had a mackerel sky, covering one-third of the sky vault, and a clear triangle of mist, the apex of which was to the west, extending towards the east, close upon the horizon line. When[78] we left in the morning at 7.30, we had chapada and campos on the right bank and forest on the other side. We had gone some 8½ kil. from our camp when we came to a hill range, 75 ft. high, on the right bank, encircling the river with its thickly wooded slopes. There was a tributary 25 m. wide, a most beautiful stream, on the right bank. It came from 70° b.m. Its water was deliciously clear. Where it entered the Arinos it had deposited a bank of crystals and marble pebbles—yellow, red, and white—which in the dazzling sun shone with great brilliancy at the bottom of the river. Numberless rubber trees were to be seen at that spot on the banks of the Arinos, and also on those of this new important tributary.

Two kilometres farther, where the Arinos was 280 m. wide, it looked just like a big lake of stagnant water. The country was quite open on the left side, first chapada, then campos.

By 9.30 a.m. we had a most wonderful display of clouds and radiations of what looked like so many mares' tales from the W.S.W. The river at that point flowed for 1 kil. in a direction due south. We came to a basin 300 m. across with a spit of white sand on the north-west side. In this basin was an island—Nattalì Island—200 m. long, 20 m. wide, 10 ft. above water, with a fine beach of sand and gravel on the south side. Gravel mounds were innumerable in the centre of this stream.

After we had gone some 8 kil. farther down my men shot an ariranha. They had a belief that these ariranhas would easily kill a man in the water. As we have already seen, they certainly had a great craving[79] for blood and were always brave in attacking. My men called them "water leopards." In fact, the head of the ariranha was not unlike the head of a cat or a leopard. Although shot through the body two or three times, the ariranha actually came thrice to the attack of the canoe—so that my men were able to seize it by the tail and pull it inside the canoe while it was in a dying condition.

Sixteen kilometres farther down we came to another beautiful tributary with delightfully clear water, 6 m. wide where it met the Arinos. One hundred metres lower down another little tributary, only 4 m. wide, also on the right bank, joined our stream. The first tributary seemed to come from the north-east. At the mouth of this tributary was a spot which would have made a lovely halting place, but as it was too early in the day we reluctantly went on in a north-westerly direction, first for 4 kil., then north-east for 5 kil., passing through a large basin 300 m. wide, containing two islets, then passing charming sand-beaches, and farther on another tributary, 8 m. wide, on the left of us, also with deliciously clear water. When we proceeded on our journey after lunch we found big rocks more frequent in the stream, and went over a field of great boulders just under the surface of the water that stretched half-way across the shallow river.

Eight kilometres from our halting-place we came to an extensive stony place with a strong rapid. One kilometre beyond, a small tributary flowed into the Arinos from the left side. On the left side we had a red and brilliant yellow bank 70 ft. high, part of a small range of hills which turned the river from N.N.W. to N.N.E.[80] Another small tributary 2 m. wide was seen on the left side. Then, 4 kil. farther on, another tributary, also 2 m. wide, and also on the left side, came from the south-west. Three thousand six hundred metres beyond this, we entered a basin 320 m. wide with an island 150 m. long, including its gravel spit. Three more islands were seen a little way beyond—Meraud, Tanis, and Loel Islands, Meraud being the largest. Another island was on the left of the river, leaving a passage 50 m. wide on its west side. The group of islands was of alluvial formation with deposits of gravel below.

The river in that region was too beautiful for words. The foliage of the thick heavy forest on both sides was densely green, the banks most tidy, and running in an almost straight line for 10,000 m. During all that distance the stream was 300 m. wide, and its speckless water reflected with marvellous definition each leaf and branch against the background of deep green. Neat gravel banks occurred frequently in the shallow water.

Some 300 m. down this long straight stretch of river a tributary 8 m. wide, coming from 210° b.m., threw itself into the Arinos. Strong eddies were formed, as many rocks were strewn in the centre of the stream.

One kilometre farther a conglomerate mass of granite and yellow and red lava, with impurities embedded in it, emerged just above the water in the centre of the stream.

Another streamlet, 2 m. wide, and of wonderfully limpid water, joined the Arinos on the right side. It came from the north-east. Then another little streamlet was seen on the left side.

[81] At the end of 10 kil., where the river made a wide angle from 330° b.m. to 350° b.m., and another straight line of 4,000 m. stretched in front of us, we beheld a huge submerged bank of sharp volcanic conglomerate rock. In fact, we unexpectedly almost ran into it. Had we done so at the rate at which we were travelling, our canoe would certainly have been smashed to pieces against the sharp-edged fractured rock—just as sharp at the angles as the blades of knives.

Where the river turned once more from 350° b.m. to 320° b.m. another small tributary appeared on the right bank, and there a lot of handsome mate trees (Ilex paraguayensis) seemed to flourish, and were certainly pretty to look at.

Farther down we again came to chapada on the left bank and heavy foliaged forest with a certain number of rubber trees on the right bank. The left bank, where it described a great sweeping circle, was low and sandy, some 12 ft. above the level of the river. Only a thin fringe of low trees grew there on the edge of the water.

Six kilometres from the last tributary on the right bank another streamlet, 3 m. wide, coming from the S.S.W., cut its way through the left bank. Two thousand five hundred metres farther on another tributary 20 m. wide—a deliciously beautiful stream—flowed gracefully into the Arinos on the right side from the north-east.

We made our camp at the junction of the two streams. The camp was extremely bad. It was already late in the evening and we could find no other suitable spot. We had gone that day 83 kils. I was[82] quite satisfied with the progress we had made during the last few days. During the evening I made an excursion on foot along the tributary river to the north-east for several kilometres, but I found nothing of particular interest.

During the night we received another visit from an anta, but the pachyderm again escaped before my men had time to kill it. We heard cries of Indians in the distance. My men were in a great state of mind for fear we should be attacked. I sat up the entire night in order to be ready in case of emergency.

I took that opportunity of computing and checking many of the astronomical observations I had taken, and developing a great number of photographic glass plates.

In my experience I have found that the fears people have of spoiling negatives unless one is shut up in an absolutely dark room are quite exaggerated. On that particular occasion, for instance, and on many previous and subsequent occasions, I developed the glass plates—and I think with satisfactory results—out in the open, with merely the fly-leaf of the tent sheltering me overhead so as not to have the direct rays of the stars shining upon the photographic plates. Indeed, there was light enough coming in around the tent for me to see quite plainly what was going on outside. I simply covered up the developing trays as an extra precaution, and seldom—in fact, never—spoiled a negative in process of development.

I also found developing tanks quite serviceable when a great number of negatives had to be developed quickly. The red lamp necessary for photographic[83] work was invariably a great nuisance. I do not believe that a compact, practical dark-room lamp has yet been invented which is really serviceable to an explorer. If it is a candle lamp the candle melts quickly in those hot countries, producing an extra large flame which generally cracks the red glass, and makes so much smoke that the upper aperture becomes blocked and puts the light out when you happen to be at the most crucial point of your work.

The oil lanterns would be better, were it not for the difficulty and messy nuisance of carrying and re-filling the lamp each time with oil. Electric lights, which are the only practical ones, of course are out of the question when you have to be away for a year or a year and a half, the storage batteries getting damaged easily by damp and the innumerable accidents which you have when exploring.

The greatest care had to be used in repacking the developed glass plates. I owe to the care I took of them that I was able to bring back 800 excellent negatives out of 800 glass plates exposed.

The night was a little warmer than usual on July 15th—minimum 53° F. There was a heavy mist over the river when we rose in the morning, and we had to delay our departure until 7.30 a.m. When the mist began to rise it hung about in beautiful curves converging to a common radiating centre to the west.

During the night I had noticed a weird lunar effect—a perfect cross of immense proportions intersecting the crescent moon, which had a radiating halo surrounding it.

Four thousand metres from our camp we came to[84] a tributary 3 m. wide on the left side of the river. It came from the W.S.W. Near this a streamlet 1 m. wide entered the Arinos on the right side, and another streamlet of equal size farther down on the left bank. There was fairly thin forest on both sides as we went on, kilometre after kilometre, the water of the river being almost stagnant in that part and heavy to paddle along.

Five hundred metres down the straight stretch of river, 4,000 m. long, we came to another charming affluent, 10 m. wide, coming from the E.S.E. Farther on, another tributary 2 m. wide entered the Arinos on the left side, and formed a shallow bank of gravel extending half-way across the stream.

The Result of Half an Hour's Fishing on the Arinos-Juruena.

As I have stated elsewhere, the mentality of Brazilians was somewhat difficult to understand by people of any other nation. They did everything the wrong way, according to our notions. I had been worried a great deal, the reader may remember, at the most unpractical way in which my men loaded the animals when I had my caravan of mules and horses. I had been more than amazed at Brazilian ideas of architecture, sculpture, painting and music. I had on many occasions been dumbfounded at their ideas of honour and truthfulness. Now once more I was sickly amused—I had by then ceased to be amazed or dumbfounded or angry—at the way my men daily packed the baggage in the canoe. The baggage was naturally taken out of the canoe every night when we made our camp, for the canoe leaked so badly that when we arrived anywhere and halted we had to beach her, or else, where this was not possible,[85] we found her in the morning almost entirely submerged. Naturally we invariably selected shallow places where we could bale the water out and float her again.

Returning to the baggage: the men every morning insisted on loading the canoe in front, where the four men were situated paddling, and the three dogs of the expedition were also accommodated. I sat in the centre of the canoe, and Alcides at the helm naturally stood in the stern. The man whose incessant daily occupation it was to bale out the water of course had to be with the group of four men in the bow, since, the canoe being so heavily weighted at that end, the water found its way down there.

Now, loading the canoe in such a fashion, at the bow, had the double drawback of causing a greater resistance against the water, and therefore nearly doubling the work of the men in paddling. Then again, when we ran aground or struck a rock, the impact was more severe on the canoe—not to speak of the difficulty of getting her off again. The steering, too, was also much more difficult with the stern of the canoe so far out of the water.

I pointed out the mistake to my men, but it was no use arguing, and they refused to follow my advice. Like all ignorant people, they thought they knew everything better than anybody else, and as, in a way, they were the chief sufferers for their own conceit, I thought I would avoid unpleasantness and let them do things their own way as long as we kept going forward on our journey.

Alcides, too, who by now had become imbued with[86] the idea that he was as good a navigator as Christopher Columbus or Vasco da Gama, had the strangest notions of navigation. He never avoided grounding the canoe on every bank he saw; he never avoided dashing the canoe into every rock which stood or did not stand in our way. I never could understand exactly why he did that, except for the mischievous pleasure he derived from giving the men who were sitting at the other end of the canoe a violent bump, which often rolled them over altogether.

When we left Goyaz my men insisted on purchasing life-belts in case we should be travelling by water. As only one of the Goyaz men could swim, I had gladly given them the money to purchase those articles. On our first day of navigation the men amused me very much, as they all appeared garbed in their life-belts, as if we had been going to the rescue of a stranded ship in a tempest. I laughed heartily at the sight. The intense heat of the sun made the heavy cork belts so uncomfortable for them, that they discarded them when they saw that the canoe would actually float on the water, and packed them away inside a wooden box, which they then screwed down tight. The belts remained in that box most of the time, except one day when a man put one on, as I had given him instructions to go some way off in the centre of the stream where the current was rather swift. By misadventure he lost his footing, and had we not been quick in going to his rescue he certainly would have been drowned.

We tested the life-belts, and I found that not only would they not float after they had been a minute or[87] two in the water, but they became so heavy when soaked with moisture that they would have dragged to the bottom even a fair swimmer. They were evidently old discarded ship belts. The cork, enclosed in a canvas cover, had got decomposed and pulverized, and therefore rendered useless.

As we are referring to the strange ways of looking at things by different nations, I might as well include the endless arguments I had with my men in selecting our camps. I naturally always selected the cleanest spots with a flat ground, so that the tents could be pitched satisfactorily without extra trouble, where there was little vegetation, and where the water was good. My men always quarrelled over this, and insisted on stopping in the filthiest places, either where some trees, rotted away, had fallen down, where the vegetation on the edge of the river needed cutting, and where the ground had to be levelled before I could pitch my camp bed. They always preferred sleeping under the stifling vegetation to where there was an open space and we had the clear sky over us.

They all slept in hammocks—the favourite resting arrangement of the Brazilian—to my mind the most uncomfortable and absurd fashion of resting, especially in tropical regions. First of all, it is almost an impossibility to assume a perfectly horizontal position for your entire body, except—if you are an expert—diagonally; then there is always a certain amount of swing and you are likely to tumble over at any moment; you can never keep the blankets in position, and you expose your entire body to the stings of the mosquitoes, flies and other insects, and of the ants which[88] crawl into your hammock by hundreds from the trees in which they swarm. It was not uncommon when we camped to hear during the night a crash, followed immediately after by oaths. The tree to which one of the hammocks had been fastened had suddenly broken and let the man down with a bump. Then again, the mischievous ants took the greatest delight during the night in cutting the strings of the hammocks, and on several occasions my followers had nasty falls. Yet the Brazilians swear by hammocks.

Another stream 2 m. wide, coming from the north, entered the Arinos on the right bank. A number of ariranhas, attracted by the vivid red of the British flag which was flying at the stern of the canoe, followed us for some time and came courageously to the attack, showing their teeth fiercely at us and snarling frantically. Entire families of those delightful little creatures were seen, and they invariably gave us a similar hearty greeting. They followed us sometimes for hundreds and hundreds of metres, and became most excited when I took the flag and waved it at them, and sometimes placed it near the water in order to drive them frantic.

We now had most beautiful forest on both sides. A stream 5 m. wide joined the Arinos on the left side from the west, forming a charming little waterfall as it entered the main stream. A little farther on the right was another streamlet, coming from the south-east. Generally, as in this case, when we reached tributary streams of any importance, gravel banks extended and blocked a great part of, sometimes even half, the main stream.

[89] A picturesque stream, 8 m. wide, coming from the north-east, was then reached on the right side. It flowed through a rocky gate. Five or six kilometres farther on a tiny streamlet dribbled into the Arinos, and also another, 1 m. wide, on the left bank.

At noon that day the sky was extraordinarily interesting. From the north-west extended a wonderful succession of loop coils of transparent mist, giving the sky the appearance of a peacock's extended tail.

Just before we halted for lunch we came to a charming streamlet of delicious water, 2 m. wide, on the right bank.

The days were getting warmer as we advanced farther north. It was hot work sitting in the sun—105° F. that day—to take observations for latitude and longitude. In the shade the thermometer registered 89° F. Lat. 12° 21′·3 S.; long. 57° 16′ W.

After lunch, 2½ kil. from our camp, we passed on the left bank a delightful tributary coming from the W.S.W. Its mouth was 8 m. wide, and poured forth waters of the most beautiful emerald green.

Five hundred metres farther down another large tributary, 30 m. wide, coming from the north-east, was observed on the right bank. Farther still, the river formed a large basin 300 m. wide. Lovely forest flourished round the sweeping curve of the basin. There was simply a solid mass of marvellously fresh foliage, with hardly a break through which, it seemed, a human being could pass. In that particular part the leaves came right down to the water, but there was no reason to suppose that they grew equally low inland.

The stream, which was 250 m. broad, showed farther[90] on an immense bank of gravel 700 m. long, which rose above the surface in the shape of two long islands—one 300 m., the other 400 m. in length.

We felt the heat considerably going down the river, as we were always in the sun in the centre of the stream, with a temperature seldom less than 105° F. Especially where thick forest was on both sides of us, there seemed to be no air close to the water. When we came to patches of chapada and open country we could breathe a little better. Several were the tributary streamlets to which we came that afternoon. First we saw one rivulet, 1 m. wide, on the right bank, then 13 kil. 500 m. farther on another affluent, 3 m. wide, coming from the north-east, also on the right bank; then 1,500 m. farther a rivulet ½ m. wide, coming from the south-west (left bank); then 4,500 m. farther a charming stream, 6 m. wide, coming from the north, and meeting with the Arinos near an extensive stony place with shallow and troublesome water. Strong eddies formed at that spot. One more streamlet, 1 m. wide, was reached that day on the right. It came from the north-east.

The river had that day flowed almost continuously in directions varying from north-west to north, barring two sections where its course had been 10° east of north.

After passing the last tributary the river described a sweeping curve, gradually turning so far back as to flow in a south-westerly (240° b.m.) direction.

There was there shallow water with gravel banks in the centre of the stream. Curiously enough, we did not notice so much rubber close to the river in that region,[91] but in an excursion a short distance from the water we came upon Siphonia elastica trees, not only along the Arinos but also along the tributaries.

We halted that day at sunset, having gone 73 kil. 400 m.; which, although much less than the previous days, was still fair going for us.

[92]

## CHAPTER VII

Ideal Islands—Immense Figueira Trees—The "Spider Monkey"—Great Variety of Fish in the Arinos—The Rocky Gateway into Diabolical Waters—Shooting Dangerous Rapids—Cutting a Way through the Forest—A Nasty Rapid—Plentiful Fish

The night of July 16th was heavy, the thermometer registering a minimum temperature of 62°F. We had great fun fishing during the early hours of the night. In the morning we had hundreds of pounds of fish spread upon the bank of the river, with many excellent specimens of the motimchun fish—so called, I believe, because of its noisy and rebellious habits.

The sky was overladen with clouds, and the west showed radiations of light. We had gone 2,500 m. from our camp when we came to a tributary stream on the left side coming from the south. Four thousand four hundred metres farther on, a hill-range 120 ft. high, with heavy forest upon it, encircled a sweeping curve on the left of us to the west and north-west. The cliff of this range, eroded by the river, showed rock of a vivid red right up to its highest point, laminated in perfectly horizontal layers, each 10 ft. thick. Farther on a great basin 350 m. wide and of great beauty had formed.

Leading the Canoe down a Rapid by Rope.

Characteristic Rocky Barrier across the Arinos River.

(Author's sextant in foreground.)

Some 10 kil. beyond a beautiful beach of white sand was noticeable on the left bank. We were always[93] glad to see these beaches, as we frequently found on them quantities of tortoise eggs—most delicious to eat.

An island—Gabriella Island—200 m. long divided the river into two channels, the larger one of which—200 m. wide—we followed; the other being but 30 m. broad and much strewn with rocks. The river, from the point where we met the sand beach, flowed in a S.S.W. direction for 6,500 m., when it gradually resumed its course northward. The island, thickly wooded, was extremely beautiful, with trees of great size upon it. Quantities of ariranhas were to be found near this island, and they came straight for us with their mouths open, shrieking wildly and snarling and spitting like cats. I was always amazed at their bravery, as they came right on while being shot at by my men, the reports of the rifles enraging them to absolute frenzy.

Shortly after we came to another most beautiful, oval-shaped island, 350 m. long—Maude Island—in a basin extending from east to west for a breadth of not less than 500 m.

Another island—Vera Island—150 m. long and of an elongated shape, was seen in the same basin. It also had luxuriant vegetation upon it, whereas, curiously enough, the banks on either side of the great basin showed chapada with stunted trees. Farther on, where a small tributary entered the Arinos on the left side, the country seemed quite open beyond the narrow fringe of trees along the water.

Another streamlet 3 m. wide flowed into the Arinos from the north-east on the right bank. The main river there was of a width of 400 m.

[94] Another great island—Luiz Schnoor Island—also most beautiful, like the others, was next seen. We halted on it for our midday meal, and to take the usual astronomical observations. The sky had, by that time, become beautifully clear, of a dense cobalt blue, and I was able to take twenty-three sights of the sun. I generally took a great many sights with the sextant and artificial horizon, in order to define the latitude and longitude with greater accuracy. We were then in lat. 11° 38′·4 S.; long. 57° 35′ W.

Gorgeous gamelleira or figueira trees (ficus) were to be seen on that island, standing high up upon arches formed by vigorous roots. In a way the lower part of those figueiras resembled a huge octopus, the branches being extremely contorted as they clung to the ground in order to support the weight of the giant tree of which they made part. One could easily walk under the tree among the roots and still have six or eight feet of space left above one's head.

As I went round to explore the island while my men were cooking the dinner, I discovered a small lake in the centre of the island—a most poetic spot, with its neat, delightful vegetation all round it reflected as in a mirror in the golden waters which reproduced in a deeper tone the rich sunset tints of the sky above. I sat myself down to look at the beautiful scene. The poetry vanished at once. There were millions of ants which swarmed all over me the moment I sat down upon the ground, and bit me with such fury that I had to remove my clothes in the greatest haste and jump into the water. That raised a cloud of mosquitoes, which made it most uncomfortable for me when I[95] came out again and was busy searching for ants in my clothes.

My men killed a beautiful long-armed spider monkey. I was sorry, as I had watched the wonderful jumps of this animal from one tree to another. Using the impetus of the swing which they could obtain from the immense length of their arms, as well as the swing of the branch on which they were hanging, they could fly enormous distances through the air. The span from hand to hand in proportion to the size of the body was really amazing.

Luiz Schnoor Island was 450 m. long. Plenty of rubber trees were to be seen on the right bank of the river after passing this great island, especially where the river described a large sweeping curve towards the north-east.

Farther on, close to the right bank, an island 100 m. long and 5 ft. high, of yellow sand and gravel, showed brilliantly with its vivid colouring upon the blue waters of the river. For identification' sake I named it Gravel Island on the map I was making of the river. I seemed to be in fairyland—but for the company of my men—as I floated down the stream, there 400 m. wide.

We had gone hardly 4 kil. when we came to another ideal island—Margherita Island—400 m. long and 200 m. wide, with magnificent trees upon it. A small stream joined the Arinos on the left side. Lower down stream we had thin forest on both sides, with some remarkable oleo trees, with their minute grey leaves and the branches, laden with red berries, drooping—weeping-willow-like—right down in the water.

Next we came to sand and gravel banks with islets[96] 1 ft. high emerging from the water in the centre of the river, all those little islets displaying verdant grass on their southern side and pure white sand on the northern side.

The river was at that point flowing in a N.N.E. direction. Then came a long straight line of 6,000 m. of river flowing to 305° b.m. About half-way through this long stretch the stream divided into two large arms, one in direct continuation of the above bearings, the other in a curve, encircling an island 1,000 m. broad. The basin—as still as a lake—in which this island was situated was not less than 1,500 m. across. The island—Charles Landor Island—was 2,000 m. in length. It had plenty of rubber trees upon it, and plenty were to be seen also on the banks. We went some 8 or 10 kil. farther that night, and at five o'clock we halted, having made poor progress that day—only 60 kil.

Immense quantities of fish could be seen in the river. No sooner had we made camp than we got out lines and hooks of all sizes, which we baited with pieces of toucinho. One end of the bigger lines we made fast to trees, as the fish we often caught were so powerful that on several occasions they had dragged us into the water and we lost not only the fish but the line as well. We had great sport that night and caught quantities of trahira (Macradon trahira)—not unlike a giant salmon and quite as good to eat; and also some surubim (Platystoma Lima), a large fish belonging to the herring family. The surubim was flat-headed, and not unlike the pintado fish which I have described in a previous chapter. It had thin scales over the body,[97] and an abnormally powerful lower jaw, with vicious-looking, sharply-pointed teeth on the edge of the upper and lower lip. These curiously situated teeth were far apart, and so firmly inserted in the hard lips that it took a violent blow to remove them.

Although after a few minutes we had killed fish enough to last us—had we been able to preserve it—for some weeks, my men sat up the greater part of the night hauling quantities to the bank. The excitement each time a fish 80 or 100 lb. in weight was hauled out of the water was considerable. The wild yells and exquisite language whenever one of my men was dragged into the water kept me awake the entire night.

We left that camp at 7.30 on July 17th, the minimum temperature having been 66° F. during the night. Heavy globular clouds covered the entire sky. We were then in a region extraordinarily rich in rubber; quantities of Siphonia elastica trees were to be seen. It made one's heart bleed to think that nobody was there to collect the riches of that wonderful land.

The river flowed in short sections from north-west to north-north-east, barring a long stretch of 4,000 m., when we came to a great basin 600 m. wide, with two large islands in it; the eastern island—Orlando Island—being 100 m. wide, the western—Elizabeth Chimay Island—220 m. broad and not less than 500 m. long. South of both these islands were islets of gravel 50 m. each in diameter.

Nine thousand five hundred metres below these islands an important tributary, 8 m. wide, flowed into the Arinos from the right bank. It came from the south-east. Close to the left bank, from which it had[98] been separated by the current, leaving a channel only 5 m. wide, another island—Isabel Island—300 m. long was found.

Shortly afterwards we came to a big equilateral-triangular island—Armida Island—fully 1 kil. a side. Albert Island, next to it, was of a narrow elongated shape.

From the beginning of Armida Island the river flowed for 4,000 m. in a direct line to 310° b.m. Four large rocks in a cluster stood in the centre of the stream at the north-north-westerly end of the island. Then we had another stretch of 4,300 m., during which the river was squeezed through a narrow neck, 100 m. wide, between low rocks. Immediately afterwards we emerged into a bay 800 m. broad, with three islets on one side of it. They were rather dry and somewhat mean-looking. I called them Faith, Hope, and Charity Islands.

After that the river was 800 m. wide. A deposit of gravel some 300 m. long was exposed on the right side beyond the last island of the group.

Three kilometres farther we halted for an hour or so, just time enough for me to take the latitude and longitude and for our lunch to be cooked. The usual torture had to be endured from the innumerable insects. The heat was also terrible—107° F. in the sun, 93° in the shade. Lat. 11° 23′·9 S.; long. 57° 39′ W.

When we left, we saw 3,500 m. beyond our halting place, beside a great heap of rocks on the left side of the river, a rivulet, 3 m. wide, entering the Arinos on the left.

From that spot the river was contracted from a width of 800 m. to one of only 120 m. Naturally the water was of great depth and the current swift.

[99] Two great volcanic rocks stuck out in the centre of the stream, and two extensive heaps of volcanic rock stood on the right side of us, the rocks being at all angles in a confused mass. Where these rocks were—a spot which my men called the "porteira" or gateway—the river turned sharply from 70° b.m. to 290° b.m. The water seemed almost stagnant there, and we had to make a great effort to get on. It seemed as if there had been an undercurrent pushing us back. The water was surely held up by some obstacle, and I feared we had at last reached the extensive rapids which I had expected for some days. Rocks were to be seen in abundance all along, and three more sets of giant boulders were reached, one after the other, in the centre of the river, there only 150 m. broad. Strange heaps of broken-up boulders of immense size were to be seen on the right bank; then farther on more great heaps in confusion on the left bank.

A tiny rivulet found its way among the rocks on the right side. The channel was much strewn with dangerous submerged rocks. I thought I would take the navigation into my own hands for a little while, and found a comparatively easy channel on the left side of the river close to the bank.

As I had expected, the rumbling noise of troubled waters was getting louder and louder, and the whitish mist which rose above the horizon line was an unmistakable sign that we had come to a dangerous spot. Soon after, in fact, we arrived at a large circular basin, some 600 m. in diameter, with rocks in the centre of it. Two clusters of magnificent rocks, 30 ft. high, towered on the left side of the river. Then came[100] a long row of rocks, also gigantic, and a sandy beach which had accumulated against them. A little farther another great mass of rocks in disorder stood up against the now once more fierce current.

We made our way tentatively along what seemed to us the safest channel, to 320° b.m., and with trepidation shot the rapids, which were quite fearsome. I must say for my men that by now they had acquired a certain amount of courage—courage, like all things, being a matter of training after all. We went down at a terrific speed amidst the splashing waters, shaving dangerous rocks and escaping collision by miracle. When we got to the bottom of the rapid we were shot into the whirlpool, which we might have avoided with ease had Alcides obeyed the orders I shouted to him.

When I had shot the rapids before in other countries, I had always avoided getting into the centre of the whirlpool; but Alcides, who had never navigated a river before, held the contrary idea, and always insisted on steering the canoe right into the centre of those dangerous rotating waters.

Whirlpool at End of Rapid.

In Shallow Water.

It was sufficient to remonstrate as I did, for Alcides to do a thing over and over again with the persistency of a mule, in order to maintain what he thought was his amour-propre. As it was, on that occasion, the canoe swerved round with such force that she nearly turned over, and got so filled with water that we had to struggle out of the difficulty as best we could and beach her, or she would have sunk.

At that point an island 400 m. long and 50 m. wide divided the river into two channels. The western channel had a small island of white sand and many[101] rocks on its southern side. Pretty yellow flowers grew wherever a little earth had accumulated upon the rocks.

After going 1,800 m. we found a great basin 600 m. wide with a rocky island and barrier right across it.

Farther on innumerable rocks of all sizes could be seen on the left bank; and 1,500 m. beyond these, where a solid rock rose in the centre of the stream, eddies of wonderful power were produced in the stream.

We glanced at a magnificent island of rock on the left side as we sped along swiftly with the current; but we were so busy with the difficult navigation, and expecting accidents at any moment—what else could I expect with the disobedient, unpractical, obstinate crew I had with me?—that I had not much time to admire the picturesqueness of the scenery.

I had quite foreseen that it was impossible to avoid disaster sooner or later, so that all I could do was to think of which would be the best way to minimize its effects, when it did come.

In the great circular basin which was formed in the river there was a passage to the west, which I did not like at all, so I ordered my men to follow the passage to the north-east. We met there violent eddies which knocked the canoe about in a most alarming manner soon after we had descended a short rapid of some steepness.

Our baggage was simply soaked owing to the amount of water we had shipped on various occasions during the day. We saw ahead of us, only a short distance off, a rapid of some magnitude. We decided to halt at four o'clock in order that we might go and explore on foot along the bank and see whether the[102] canoe could be navigated down, or if we had better unload her and let her down with ropes. We cut a space in the forest, which was there thick, in order to make our camp. We spread all our things to dry during the night. The air was stifling—we had a minimum temperature of 73° F. (July 18th).

I took the accurate elevation of the camp with the hypsometrical apparatus, water boiling at that spot at 210°·4, with the temperature of the air 73° F.; altitude 1,113 ft. above sea level. I also took observations for latitude and longitude: Lat. 11° 17′·5 S.; long. 57° 37′ W. We had to remain the entire morning in order to cut a way through the forest and take part of the most valuable baggage on men's backs until a point below the rapids was reached.

We named that place Camp Jahu, as we caught there several enormous fish of that name.

In a reconnaissance we made we found that from Camp Jahu we had to take the canoe along among innumerable rocks scattered in the only navigable channel on the north side of a basin 700 m. wide, with a large island 350 m. wide—Sarah Island—on the southern side of the bay, and another smaller island almost in the centre of the basin. There was a drop 2 ft. high—a regular step—in a barrier of sharply-pointed rocks. We had some two hours' hard work in order to get the canoe safely down. The rocks were so close together that we could not find a passage large enough for the canoe, and we actually had to pull her out of the water over some rocks and then let her down gently on the other side.

After leaving that great pedraria there was a clear[103] basin 250 m. wide, ending where two enormous heaps of rock formed a giant gateway. An island, 80 m. wide—Rebecca Island—was found near the left cluster of rocks. Another small island had formed close to the right of the river. We descended by the north-easterly passage, only 4 m. wide, where the current was extremely swift but the rapid comparatively easy to negotiate.

We then followed the channel flowing to 350° b.m., and after passing innumerable rocks made our camp again before coming to a large rapid which we heard rumbling in that direction.

We had worked hard all that day, and all the progress we had made by sunset was a distance of 2,000 m.—or a little more than one mile.

Alcides, Antonio and I immediately proceeded to cut a trail through the forest from that point down to the end of the rapid, 1,200 m. farther down. Then we proceeded to take all the baggage upon our shoulders—a task which occupied several hours. I was greatly surprised to find that the men did this willingly enough, although they were unaccustomed to carrying and the loads were heavy. They laughed heartily at one another as they struggled under the heavy weights, or trod upon thorns, or were jerked about with knocking against trees—the passage we had cut being necessarily not spacious.

I had not seen my men so jolly for a long time—in fact, I do not remember ever having seen them so jolly. I was in hopes that this state of affairs might last, as it was certainly not pleasant to be travelling in such usually morose company.

[104] During the night we caught an immense jahu, weighing over 50 lb., as well as some 200 lb. of smaller fish. As the bank of the stream was rather high and steep, we had a great deal of trouble to land the larger fish safely. Some of my men had exciting experiences, one man falling into the water on receiving a powerful blow from the tail of the struggling jahu. The scene was a comic one, the terror of the man being amusing to watch.

We carried a great quantity of salt; with it my men set out to preserve the best portions of the fish we had caught—a precaution of which I fully approved.

I noticed that whenever we came across rocky places the number of insects increased to an enormous extent, especially mosquitoes and gnats. I think it was due principally to the fact that in those rocks many cavities were found which got filled with stagnant water which eventually became putrefied.

The place where we halted we called Abelha Camp, because of the millions of bees which worried us to death there, not to speak of the swarms of flies, mosquitoes and ants, and myriads of butterflies which came to settle in swarms upon us. It was indeed curious to note the wonderful tameness of the latter, as they had never seen a human being before.

Fishing on the Arinos: a Jahu.

Fish of the Arinos River.

There was a nasty-looking rapid close to the camp. We had to let the empty canoe down carefully by means of ropes, my men on that particular occasion donning their lifebelts again, although they walked on dry land when they were taking the canoe along. When I asked them why they put them on, they said[105] that perhaps the canoe might drag them into the water and they had no wish to get drowned.

We left that camp late in the afternoon—at three o'clock—having wasted the entire morning conveying the canoe to a spot of safety and then carrying all the baggage along overland.

After having gone some 2 kil. farther we came to another rapid and a pedraria with nasty rocks right across the channel, the only passage I could see possible for our canoe being in the centre of the stream. That channel was only a few metres wide, and had in the centre of it a large rock just under the surface, which flung the water up in the air. We just managed to shoot that rapid safely, although with trembling hearts.

Farther down, rocks innumerable, rising only two or three feet above water, spread half-way across the channel from the right side. Then rapids and strong eddies were encountered. For 700 m. the river showed foliated rock strewn all along on both banks, and great volcanic boulders of a more rounded shape. The foliation showed a dip westward of 45°.

We were delighted when we discovered in that region many solveira or sorveira trees, or milk trees, exuding when incised milk most delicious to drink. Then there were plenty of figueiras or gameilleiras and wild bananas. We wasted much time extracting milk from the solveiras and eating wild fruit.

Monkeys were to be seen in that part. They seemed most astonished on perceiving us, and came quite close, gazing at us in the most inquisitive manner.

We felt that we had come to a real heaven on earth,[106] except for the river, which could have given points to the River Styx of infernal fame.

When we returned to the canoe we found obstructions of all kinds in the stream. Small rapid succeeded small rapid. Rocky islets and scattered rocks rendered navigation complicated.

Where the river turned sharply to the N.N.E. another dangerous rapid was reached, with rocks scattered all over the channel, some just submerged. We tried to shoot that rapid on the east side, but we got badly stuck on a submerged rock, and once more the canoe filled with water. It took us the best part of an hour to extricate ourselves from our uncomfortable position.

A beautiful island 400 m. long and 200 m. wide—Maria Island—was then reached. It had a long spur of white sand at its south-easterly end, and pretty vegetation upon it. Strange domes of rock were near by, one particular dome of great size showing a spit of white sand 70 m. long, on its north-westerly side. Many other islets of rock rose above the water along the bank of the larger island, while rapids of some magnitude existed at the end of the island.

We hardly ever came to a stretch of placid water. No sooner had we left the last rapid than, the river turning sharply at that point, we went over a strong corrideira, so strewn with obstacles that in the terrific current we had a narrow escape of having our unmanageable, long canoe smashed against one of the innumerable rocks.

As we went on at a great speed I had just time to notice rocks of all sizes and shapes along both banks, and strange rocks in the middle of the river, one or[107] two of them with stunted trees growing in fissures which had become filled with earth.

Another island, 300 m. long—Martia Island—with a picturesque spur of rock at its south-easterly end, was next reached as we were going swiftly down a corrideira in the channel to the right which we were following.

After the corrideira, as I was busy writing a description of the landscape, I was thrown off my seat. My men also had a similar experience, the canoe nearly turning turtle and becoming filled with water. Alcides had steered us right into the centre of a whirlpool.

These unexpected baths were not much to my taste—not so much for the discomfort they caused my person, as for the trouble they gave me in protecting my notebooks and instruments. Also, in these accidents we lost a considerable amount of our supply of salt, which melted away in the water, and the supply of flour and rice suffered from these unnecessary immersions.

A channel 30 m. wide separated Martia Island from a second island—Camilla Island—100 m. long, which must once certainly have formed part of it, but which had been separated by the eroding waters of the stream. Both islands were wooded, and were extremely pretty. Great heaps of rock, 20 m. in diameter and even more, occupied the centre of the stream after we had passed the last island.

We had only gone 12 kil. 300 m. that day, so difficult had been the navigation.

During the night in less than one hour we caught two large jahu, one huge pacu (Prochilodus argentius),[108] the latter shaped like a sole, but of a much greater size, and with brilliant red patches on its body—a most delicately-tasting fish to eat—and a number of large trahira (Machrodon trahira), also called by the Brazilians rubaffo because of the noise they make in the water. Altogether over 200 lb. of fish were got out of the water in less than sixty minutes.

We found many jenipapeiros (or genipapeiro) trees, from the stewed bark of which we made excellent tea. Its fruit was good to eat, and we used it for making sweets.

During the night of July 19th the minimum temperature was 67° F.

We started off gaily enough in the morning, passing first a great boulder, 10 m. in diameter, sticking right out of the water; then an island 200 m. long contained in a basin 500 m. wide. We left the island—Ruby Island—which was 80 m. long, on our left, and went down a channel with strong eddies and whirlpools. Looking back at the eastern channel, we were glad we had not followed it, as it was extremely rocky.

A Fine Cataract on the Arinos-Juruena River.

The river was contracting in narrow necks and expanding into large basins, another of these being 450 m. broad. A strong rapid existed here, owing to the barrier formed across the stream by a central island of rock and other boulders. After that came a basin 700 m. wide, with three islands—Teffe I., Nair I., Rock I.—in its western part. The central and eastern passages were difficult owing to the quantity of rocks which stood in the way, so we took the canoe down the channel from S.S.W. to N.N.E., which was also extremely bad, and where we had to let her down[109] with the greatest care by means of ropes, the baggage having been previously unloaded. Even then the canoe got filled with water. That involved a great loss of time and waste of energy, so that we had to halt longer than usual in the middle of the day.

Our halting place was most picturesque, situated on volcanic rocks of great beauty, and overlooking a canal cut into the rocks, with strong and foaming rapids from east to west. Strong eddies formed at the end of the rapids.

After leaving the camp and negotiating the rapids, we came to an island 150 m. long—Magda Island—separated by a rocky narrow channel from another island, 50 m. long, west of it.

After the last rapid we were in a basin 800 m. wide and 1,000 m. long. Strong corrideiras or rapids occurred all the time, and rocks alone or in groups standing wherever they were not wanted. Farther on we came to another big basin, 1,000 m. wide, with a square island on its western side. The island—Eva Island—was 400 m. broad and of course of an equal length.

Another island, triangular in shape, 700 m. long—Rose Island—was then observed, after we had gone over some strong rapids in the passage on the east side of it.

The river was flowing in a northerly direction, and shortly afterwards formed two channels—one north-west, the other south-west—which soon joined again.

A beautiful bank of white sand 120 m. long and 4 ft. high stretched along the edge of the water on the left side of us. Soon afterwards we entered an immense[110] basin, 1,300 m. broad with a large island—May Island—on its western side.

One kilometre farther the island ended at a place where a lot of rocks stood out of the water. A little lower down other rocks spread right across the river in two parallel lines, forming very strong rapids, which were shot, our canoe coming within an ace of turning over.

The basin which followed was extremely rocky, with strong whirlpools, most troublesome to negotiate. Another island of irregular shape, 200 m. long and 200 m. wide—Rita Island—was found in a large basin, 1,000 m. broad, where we came to strong rapids and violent eddies and whirlpools, the latter most dangerous-looking. The water revolved with such force that it formed in the centre of each vortex holes from one to two feet in diameter.

The channel flowing north on the left side of the river seemed the better of the two, but it was strewn with rocks against which we had many collisions, owing to the strong current, the unmanageable canoe and the disobedient crew.

Another island 350 m. long—Eloisa Island—was to the north-east of Rita Island. Fifteen hundred metres farther on another corrideira occurred. A small tributary entered the Arinos on the right side.

We were then travelling in a N.N.E. direction, the river being in a straight line for some 3,000 m., in the course of which we came to a small island on the left side; then to a great island, 3,000 m. long—Albert Rex Island—with beautiful forest upon it. There were two other islets in this channel, one a mere cluster of rocks,[111] the other, north-east of the first and 150 m. in diameter—Belgium Island—having pretty vegetation upon it.

A fourth and fifth—Laeken Island, 300 m. in length, and Elizabeth R. Island, 5,000 m. in length—were separated by a narrow channel. The latter had most gorgeous vegetation upon it; so tidy was everything in the thick forest, and the ground under it so clean that you might have imagined yourself in an English park.

Those islands were really too beautiful for words. Not being a poet, I cannot find appropriate language to describe their wonderful charm.

The river had a tendency to flow toward the west, and even for 1 kil. in a south-westerly direction. It had a width of 700 m. A small island 50 m. in diameter, chiefly formed of accumulated rounded rocks which had rolled down and deposits of gravel, had formed in the centre of the stream. Beyond it a charming little island, 180 m. long—Germaine Island—was found, on which we made our camp. It had an extensive gravel beach, on which I found beautiful crystals and pebbles of wonderfully coloured marble.

[112]

## CHAPTER VIII

Magnificent Basins—Innumerable Rapids—Narrow Escapes—The Destructive Sauba Ants—Disobedient Followers—A Range of Mountains—Inquisitive Monkeys—Luck in Fishing—Rocky Barriers—Venus

We left at 8 a.m. on July 20th, the minimum temperature during the night having been 57° F. We had hardly gone 1½ kil. when we came to another island, 500 m. long—Mabel Island—quite as beautiful as the one on which we had camped. Small rapids were encountered where we just managed to avoid dangerous submerged rocks close to the right bank, near the entrance of a basin 900 m. wide.

All those basins were really magnificent to look at. This one, for instance, displayed a lovely island—Noailles Island—500 m. long, and 200 m. wide on its left side. Picturesque rocks of a vivid red colour peeped out of the water and broke the current, the spray that rose in the air forming pretty rainbows. There was a channel there, 300 m. wide, after passing the last island. Then came one more great basin 700 m. wide, and yet another pretty island, with a rocky spur.

Preparing the Canoe prior to descending a Rapid.

A Nasty Rapid.

We followed a course of 10° b.m. on the left side of the island—Margie Island—which was 500 m. long, and had a number of subsidiary islands formed by picturesque groups of rock.

[113] We then came to one more great basin, with an immense quantity of rock in its western part. Many of the boulders showed a foliation in their strata with a dip of 45° east. The accumulation of boulders formed a formidable barrier before we reached an island most beautiful to gaze upon, so luxuriant was the vegetation on it.

This particular island was 200 m. long; next to it was another 150 m. long; then, joined to this by a link of high rocks to the south-east, was a third, also of considerable beauty. So charming were these islands that I called the group the Three Graces Islands.

The river turned due west from that point in a channel of continuous rapids and violent eddies for some 3,000 m. We went down, the canoe being knocked about in a most alarming way on one or two occasions, and shipping so much water as to reach almost up to our knees inside it.

It was fortunate that all my photographic plates, note-books and instruments were in water-tight boxes, or they certainly would have been damaged beyond saving. This was not the case with my clothes, shoes, and bedding, which had now been wet for many days with no possibility of drying them, as we were travelling all day long and every day, and during the night the heavy dew prevented them from getting dry. Why we did not get rheumatism I do not know, as not only did we wear wet things all day long, but we slept in blankets soaked with moisture.

The moment I dreaded most was that in which we emerged from the rapid into the whirlpool which always[114] followed, and in which the canoe swerved with such terrific force that it was all we could do to hold on and not be flung clean out of her—owing, of course, to the centrifugal force as she revolved quickly.

Making a survey of the river was getting to be a complicated and serious job, what with the numberless islands we encountered, the continuous rapids, and the constant changes of direction. I was busy writing, as fast as I could—only interrupted momentarily by involuntary shower-baths—prismatic compass and watch in hand all the time, the latter in order to measure the distances as accurately as possible.

We had now come to another group of islands in a line in the centre of the river. They had been at one time evidently all one, which had subsequently been eroded into five separate islands and an extensive bank of gravel and sand. Taken in succession from south to north, there was first an oblong island, thickly wooded, 120 m. long—Nina Island—having on its western side an elongated bank of sand and gravel; then, where a barrier of rocks stretched transversely across the stream and where extremely bad rapids occurred—three of them in succession, each worse than the last—was another island—Providence Island—1,400 m. in length.

When we reached any rapid we had to be quick in judging which was the best channel to follow, as the current was so strong that we had not sufficient strength to pull back against it. I generally selected the channel, my men by this time having gained sufficient confidence in my judgment, since so far we had had no serious mishap. But I foresaw that we should soon[115] have an accident, as they were getting foolhardy, and in their ignorance attributed the wonderful luck we had had entirely to their own skill in navigation.

On that particular occasion we had hardly time to recover from shooting the first rapid with the velocity of an arrow, and were wet all over with the splash of the water, when we came to the second and third rapids, where the channel was so narrow and rocks were scattered so near the surface, that it was really a marvel to me how we got through without capsizing. The men in their excitement were shrieking wildly as we dashed through the foaming waters, and there were also yells of positive terror from the man ahead, who with a long pole in hand tried to save the canoe from dashing now upon one rock then upon another.

Below the rapids the three other islands were Dora Island, 200 m. long; Edna Island, 500 m. long; and Lucia Island, 700 m. long.

The river was flowing in a westerly and south-westerly direction, the banks showing a quantity of rubber trees all along. A tiny islet 50 m. long had been eroded from the right bank, just above a strong corrideira, easily identifiable by later travellers who may visit it, since a huge rock stands there in the centre of the river.

On the left side of the river foliated rock 10 ft. high was exposed for the length of 1 kil. Dense forest was to be seen on both sides of the river all along the rapids.

Two more islands, each 100 m. in diameter—Romeo and Juliet Islands—close to each other, were then seen on one side of the main channel, which was 200 m. wide.

[116] From this point the river actually flowed in a S.S.W. direction (230° b.m.), and for 2,500 m. we had to negotiate strong and troublesome rapids with variations of shallow water, usually with a bottom of sharp rocks. The water in many of those places, coming with great force, hit the bottom and was thrown up again in high waves which swamped our canoe each time we went through them. In one place we got stuck on a rock in the middle of the foaming waters, and had a hard job to get the canoe off again and prevent her sinking when we had done so.

Where the river turned for another 2 kil. 500 m. more to the west, another elongated island rose on the left side of the stream. The island—Laurita Island—was only 80 m. broad, but had a total length of 1,800 m.

More rapids and shallow water above a bottom of red volcanic débris were found. A small tributary 2 m. wide at the mouth entered the Arinos on the left bank, not far from the spot where a rocky rugged island rose in the centre of the stream.

I halted at 11.30 in order to take the usual observations for latitude and longitude and soundings of the river. The stream, which was 320 m. broad, below some rapids, showed a depth of 6 ft. the entire way across. Farther down, where it contracted to 200 m. in breadth, it showed a depth of 8 ft. in the centre with a maximum depth of 10 ft. to the right and left of it, gradually decreasing to 5 ft., 3 ft., 2 ft., and 1 ft. as it neared the banks. Lat. 11° 7′·3 S.; long. 57° 46′ W.

A Giant Central Wave emerging from a Narrow Channel.

When we resumed our journey after lunch, we came to another thickly wooded island, 1,000 m. long,[117] 350 m. wide—J. Carlos Rodriguez Island—with a cluster of huge rocks on its southern end.

We had a few minutes of comparatively easy navigation, the river being extraordinarily beautiful in straight stretches of 3,000 m., 2,000 m., and 3,000 m., to 340°, 350°, and 360° (N.) bearings magnetic. In the first 3,000 m. we came upon another strong rapid over a barrier of rocks which extended right across the stream. Beyond the rapids the usual troublesome whirlpools occurred. A polished dome of rock 10 ft. high emerged in mid-stream. Then another charming island—Nona Island—with a spit of white sand at its southern end rose gracefully out of the river. It had a breadth of 100 m. and a length of 600 m.

More corrideiras and eddies had to be gone over that day. We seemed to be spending our entire time trying to avoid—not always successfully—collisions with dangerous rocks. We came to another beautiful island, 200 m. long and 100 m. wide—Emma Island—screened at its southern end by high-domed volcanic rocks, and soon after to a rocky island on our right, separated by a narrow channel from a larger and thickly wooded island, 300 m. long and 100 m. wide—Georgia Island.

The rapids seemed to be getting worse and worse as we went down the stream. After passing these three islands we came to a most dangerous spot, the rapids there being strewn all over with nasty-looking rocks which did not seem to leave a clear passage anywhere in a straight line. After 500 m. of anxious travelling we encountered more rapids and troublesome eddies. We had by that time got accustomed to[118] the danger, and even felt travelling dull and stupid when we came to a few metres of placid water.

As we were going down a stretch of 3,000 m. to 350° b.m. we found the centre of the river blocked by great masses of rock; then, a little farther, rocks occupied the left of the river. We went through a narrow passage between those high rocks, finding ourselves carried away helplessly into a rapid of alarming swiftness, which subsequently shot us into a terrific whirlpool.

Alcides was steering us right into the centre of the terrifying rotating waters, when I jumped up and, seizing the steering gear out of his hands, was just able to avoid disaster. As it was, the canoe switched off at a tangent with a heavy list to port, leapt out of the water like a flying fish, and when she dropped again into the water was carried off at a great speed, with a heavy list on and filling fast. I do not know why she did not capsize altogether.

We then had rocks on the left side, rocks on the right side; a barrier of many rocks across the entire stream, with a thickly wooded island, 70 m. wide and 200 m. long—Lilian Island—on the left side. There were a great many scattered rocks at the northern end of the island, where a small rapid was found. Then we were confronted by 4,000 m. of river in a straight line. We had gone but 2,000 m. along that stretch when we came to a lovely rectangular island, with a spit of rock extending for 120 m. eastward, and separated by a narrow channel from the island itself. The island—Susan Island—was 100 m. broad and 250 m. long, with its fore-part of gravel as usual. It was in a basin 500 m. wide.

[119] The river turned to the W.S.W., and was there placid enough, although the current was swift. Where the river flowed once more in a more northerly direction we found rocks and two tiny wooded islands on the left side of the stream, one 20 m., the other 70 m. long. There a corrideira occurred soon after we had negotiated a dangerous rapid—dangerous because of the number of intricate rocks which forced the canoe to describe a snake-like dance like a double S, bumping and swerving with such force from the restless waters underneath, that it was all we could do to prevent her turning over.

In a basin 700 m. wide which was further crossed, we admired a picturesque rocky island of a beautiful emerald green colour in the centre of the stream. An immense barrier of rock was on the north-east side of this basin. Before we halted, absolutely worn out by the heavy work of the day, we descended another troublesome rapid—fortunately that time with no mishaps of any kind.

At five o'clock we made our camp in the only spot we could find that was suitable; but no sooner had we landed than we were fiercely attacked by millions of sauba or carregadores ants which gave us a lively time during the entire night. Those ants, which were there absolutely in millions, were from 1 in. to 1¼ in. in length, and possessed powerful clippers on the head with which they bit us, giving intense pain. When you had thousands of them climbing up your legs and over your body, and dropping upon you from the tree branches which were alive with them, and clinging to you with all their might once they had got you with[120] their clippers, you began to think what a fool you had been to leave your happy home in England.

As I shall have an opportunity of speaking at greater length of the saubas later in this volume, I shall leave them now, merely mentioning that during the entire night we were unable to sleep owing to those brutes. And that was not all: we had many of our clothes, shoes, and other articles entirely destroyed by them.

We called that place Camp Carregador. The nights had become by then quite stifling and damp, the minimum temperature on July 21st being 63° F.

No sooner had we started on our journey that day than we came to rapids. A lot of rocks stood everywhere in the stream. The river after that flowed in a snake-like fashion for 5,000 m. in a general direction N.N.E., and was there comparatively free from serious obstacles. We came to a triangular island 700 m. long—Ada Island—separated from a second island by a channel 50 m. wide. This second island—Hugo Island—formed an isosceles triangle of 800 m. each side. These two islands were evidently at one time joined together, forming a lozenge-shaped island, and had been eroded in the centre by the back-wash of the stream at the spot where it formed an angle.

Where the river turned from 315° b.m. to 340° b.m., it was much strewn with sharp cutting rocks. We were thrown with great violence on one of these and very nearly capsized. Great heaps of volcanic boulders were now seen on the right side of the channel, and one island 50 m. long—Nora Island—with a few shrubs on it.

A Dangerous Rapid.

Taking the Canoe and Part of the Baggage down a Narrow Passage among Rocks.

A great heap of rock was fixed in the centre of the[121] stream, forming a kind of spur, beyond which a regular barrier of rock spread from south-west to north-east right across the stream. We had difficulty in finding a suitable passage, but eventually got through close to the right bank in a small corrideira, easily recognizable by subsequent travellers, as by the side of it was a rocky hill of a conical shape 30 ft. high with a tuft of trees on its summit. On both banks of the stream rubber trees were plentiful. For 5,000 m. the river had been proceeding in a perfectly straight line to the N.N.W.

My work was extremely tiring, as not only was my time employed surveying the river carefully and writing up plentiful notes, but also I had to control the navigation as much as I could and be ready for any emergency, owing to the capricious nature of my men and their unbounded disobedience. Orders could not be given direct, as they were always disobeyed, so that to obtain what I wished I generally had to give the contrary order. For instance, if I wanted to avoid a rock I ordered Alcides to run the canoe on to the rock; if I wanted to shoot a rapid I ordered them to take the canoe down with ropes, and so on.

Innumerable rocks were now encountered all the time. In places regular great tables or platforms of polished rock were to be seen under the surface in the clear water. A wonderful group of gigantic rocks was then reached, with a most charming island peeping through behind.

We came to an island 450 m. long and 30 m. wide—Anna Island—where two more barriers of rock were found right across the stream. Beyond, a bank 150 m.[122] long of deliciously white sand was observed, where some 2 kil. of placid navigation was gone through; but no sooner had we covered that short distance than strong eddies were again met with at the point where the river expanded to a somewhat greater width.

After going almost due west for a short distance the river gradually swung round to due north, a most beautiful view opening before us as we got round the sweeping curve. For 5,000 m. the river now ran in a perfectly straight line, with its beautiful clear water flowing over a rocky bed. In the far distance loomed the first range of mountains we had seen since leaving the Serra Azul. I had got so tired of gazing at a flat horizon line that the sight of the range gave me unbounded pleasure. But I had not much time to gaze upon the scenery, for rocks of all sizes and shapes were strewn all along the channel.

Two small islets, each 20 m. long, were passed on the right bank. Then came more picturesque groups of rock on the right and on the left of us as we paddled gaily along, and refreshing accumulations of pure white sand. Farther on, an island 50 m. wide and 60 m. long, with a southerly crown of huge boulders—Corona Island—was to be seen close to the right bank.

Some thousand metres before we got to the end of the long stretch, yet another elongated island 50 m. long lay close to the left bank. The island was thickly wooded. From that spot a basin fully 1,000 m. broad spread out. The easterly portion was a mass of rock, exposed a few feet above the surface. These rocks extended right across the basin as far as an island 350 m. long—Josephine Island. The vegetation[123] was indescribably beautiful in that part. Immense quantities of rubber trees stood majestically, so far unknown and untouched in the luxuriant forest.

Eight distinct groups of rocks were found on the right-hand side of the river where it flowed for 4,000 m. in a N.N.W. direction. I took forty-two sights of the sun that day in order to determine the exact latitude and longitude. Lat. 10° 48′·9 S.; long. 58° 0′ W.

When we left again in the afternoon the river, there 350 m. broad, was enchantingly beautiful, absolutely clear of obstacles as far as we could see. There was a stretch of 4,000 m. of placid waters, and we imagined that we had come to the end of our trouble.

Monkeys played gaily among the trees, evidently taking the greatest interest in the canoe. They followed us for long distances, jumping from tree to tree, shrieking with excitement and gazing at us with keen interest. We in the canoe suffered perfect torture from the millions of bees, gnats, and mosquitoes, which settled on us in absolute swarms and stung us for all they were worth. The lips, eyelids, nose and ears seemed to be their favourite spots for drawing blood—perhaps because the remainder of the face and neck was already a mass of stings and the skin had got hardened and parched by the broiling sun. The temperature was warm—92° F. in the shade, and 103° in the sun.

At the end of the 4,000 m. another great mass of rocks was found extending from south to north right across the stream. Fortunately we found a channel sufficiently large for navigating our canoe exactly in the centre of the river. After turning to the W.N.W.[124] we found a charming little rocky islet with a solitary tree upon it, and 1 kil. farther a larger island 400 m. long and 300 m. wide in the shape of a triangle—Sylvia Island. This island was separated by a channel 70 m. wide from an immense island—Guanabara Island—6,400 m. long. The channel we followed, the river there flowing to the S.S.W., was 300 m. wide. Great masses of rock were visible on the left side. Where the river flowed in a more westerly direction rocks formed a barrier right across from south-east to north-west.

Then the river once more flowed in a S.S.W. direction through a perfectly beautiful channel. A lovely sand and gravel beach extended from north-east to south-west at the turn of the river where the great Guanabara Island ended.

Some 600 m. farther on a huge dome of rock like a spherical balloon was to be seen, with two smaller rocks by its side. A basin 400 m. wide was then found with an islet of sand 100 m. long on the left side, and a low islet of gravel partly wooded on the right side of the channel. These preceded another accumulation of sand and gravel 100 m. long with a few trees upon it, which was succeeded by a mass of rocks just before reaching a fair-sized island.

Another great spherical rock was seen before entering the channel between the island and the left bank. In the extensive bay great boulders of indescribable beauty were visible.

The Canoe being led down a Rapid.

Several capivaras were basking in the sun on the top of the boulders, and were fired at many times by my men as they stood up to gaze at us in astonishment[125] before they made up their minds to jump into the water and escape.

Close to those rocks an island—Teresa Island—400 m. long was next admired. Strong rapids had to be gone through in a great barrier of rocks at the end of this island. Then no sooner were we thanking our stars that we had negotiated that portion of our journey safely than we were among a lot of globular boulders, some 30 ft. high.

For 800 m. we had a placid time, the water of the stream being so beautifully green, so transparent, that we could see the bottom quite clearly. Our happiness did not last long. We had more rapids and a great rocky bank spreading from south-east to north-west right across the stream, and forming in one portion an island.

We went down another strong rapid between great and dangerously situated rocks and a large island. Then came another wonderful group of high domed rocks, one of the great domes displaying a sharp northern spur like the ram of a battleship. Next to it were three cylindrical rocks, just like towers, one of which leant over the dome.

Yet another rapid was shot through with no misadventure, and when we came to the end of a large island 4,500 m. long and 80 m. wide—Priscilla Island—preceded by a smaller islet of sand and gravel, we arrived at a direct stretch of 4,000 m. of river, flowing to the west. Another rocky islet with an accumulation of sand and a lot of scattered rocks by its side, then a high island, were passed on our right, and farther on we found another great group of globular rocks at[126] the point where Daphne Island, 350 m. in length, began.

I hardly had time to map out the numberless rocks and islands we met before we came upon others. There again we saw three more islands in succession—Mars Island, 500 m. long and 100 m. wide; Jupiter Island, 250 m. long; and a third and smaller one, separated from the second by a channel strewn with huge boulders.

To the N.N.W., at 340° b.m., we saw a hill 300 ft. high, some distance from the stream. Innumerable rocks again occurred in the centre of the channel, and then we came to an extensive triangular island—Barretos Island—the base of which was 300 m. Its left side was 2,000 m. long, its eastern or right side about 1,500 m. A hill range some 300 ft. high was looming before us to the north-east. The second island—Antonio Prado Island—had a total length of 2,000 m. with an average width of 200 m.

On this magnificent island we halted at five o'clock in the afternoon, and I took altitude observations with the hypsometrical apparatus: 1,062 ft. above the sea level.

We were again lucky in fishing that evening. We caught six trahiras, several pacus, and two young jahus—altogether some 120 lb. in weight. My men had wasted so much food, and so much had been spoiled by constant immersions—many of the tinned meats had been altogether spoiled by the tins having got rusty and gradually perforated—that I was beginning to feel rather anxious in case our journey should last longer than I expected. Unfortunately, we had lost most of our salt, and we had no way of preserving the fish,[127] which we had to leave on the banks, absolutely wasted. In order, however, to show how lazy my men were, it is enough to say that, rather than take the slight trouble of placing some pieces of the excellent fish on board the canoe instead of trusting entirely to the luck we might have in fishing the next evening, they had to go the entire day without food. For some reason or other we could not get a single fish to bite, and we did not find a single bird or monkey to shoot.

I was rather interested to observe, in looking over my notes, that nearly all the rocky barriers we had met stretching across the river extended from south-east to north-west. I believe that similar barriers stretched in the same direction in the other southern tributaries of the Amazon, the Xingu and the Madeira Rivers, but, curiously enough, this was not the case with the River Araguaya.

We had made our camp that particular night on a lovely beach of white sand, which I found perfectly delicious, but which my men hated, as there were no trees on which they could hang their hammocks. They did not like to go into the luxuriant forest of the beautiful island, as they were afraid to go too far away from me, and I did not wish to go too far away from the canoe, which we had beached on the gravel bank, in case the river should rise suddenly or something should happen to make her float away. As I have said, I never, during the entire journey, let that canoe go out of my sight for one single moment. The men, therefore, went into the forest to cut big poles, which they afterwards planted with much exertion, in the sand near my camp-bed.

[128] Some amusing scenes happened during the night, when the poles gradually gave way with the weight of the men in the hammocks, and, tumbling down altogether, gave them severe blows on their heads and bodies.

Crocodile about to attack one of the Dogs of the Expedition.

Photographed by author at a distance of three metres (Rio Arinos-Juruena).

The stars were simply magnificent in brilliancy as I lay on my camp-bed. One particularly, to 290° b.m. N.W.—the planet Venus—was extraordinarily brilliant, appearing six times as big as any other planet visible that night. It threw off radiations of wonderful luminosity, quite strong enough to illuminate with a whitish light a great circular surface of the sky around it.

In the morning, before we left, Alcides—who loved carving names and inscriptions on every tree and stone—duly incised the name of Antonio Prado, with which I baptized the island in honour of the greatest Brazilian living, upon a giant figueira tree on the southern edge of the extensive beach of sand and gravel.

[129]

## CHAPTER IX

Dogs—Macaws—Crocodiles—A Serious Accident—Men flung into a Whirlpool—The Loss of Provisions and Valuable Baggage—More Dangerous Rapids—Wonderful Scenery—Dangerous Work—On the Edge of a Waterfall—A Risky Experience—Bravery of Author's Brazilian Followers—A High Wind from the North-East—A Big Lake

The night was heavy and damp. All our things were soaked in the morning with the dew which had fallen. We were enveloped in a thick mist when we woke up. It became a dense fog when the sun rose, and did not clear up until the sun was fairly high above the horizon. The minimum temperature during the night had been 62° F. (July 22nd).

We were unable to leave until eight o'clock, as the river was dangerous enough when we could see where we were going, and it would have been rather foolish to add one more risk to our travelling in the fog.

My men were extremely irritable and morose that morning, and even our dogs were most troublesome. We had had a great deal of trouble with the dogs; they were as disobedient and untrainable as the men. Nearly every morning we had to waste a considerable time in getting the animals back into the canoe. When we were ready to start they generally dashed away into the forest and the men had to go and fetch them[130] and bring them back. That particular morning one dog—the best we had—escaped, and my men searched for more than an hour, but were unable to find him. In trying to run after him they got their feet full of thorns, and they became so enraged that they decided to abandon the dog on the island. I called him for more than half an hour, trying to save his life, but the animal refused to come. So, much to my sorrow, we had to pull out without him, and undoubtedly the poor beast eventually must have died of starvation, as there was no food whatever to be obtained in the forest on the island.

The dogs were quite amusing to watch while in the canoe, their terror when we shot rapids being quite manifest. They were an additional source of danger to us, for once or twice while shooting rapids strewn with rocks they would jump out of the canoe on to the rocks as we were shaving past them, and we lost much time on several occasions in order to rescue them. In going through the forest the poor animals had suffered much from the attacks of ants and all kinds of insects, many parasites having got inside their ears and where the skin was softer under their legs, causing terrible sores.

They never got fond of anybody, no matter how well they were treated. In fact, unlike all other dogs of any other country, they never seemed even to recognize any of us. Alcides had become the owner of the abandoned dog in a peculiar way at the beginning of our journey, when travelling with my caravan of mules. The dog was going along with a man travelling in the opposite direction to ours. Alcides, who at the[131] time was eating some bread, whistled to the dog, and from that moment the animal left his master and came along with us.

Perhaps Brazilian dogs do not give affection because they never receive any. They were so timid that when you lifted your hand to caress them they would dash away yelling, with their tails between their legs, as if you had been about to strike them. I tried time after time to make friends with them—and I am generally quick at making friends with animals—but I gave up in despair the hope of gaining the slightest affection from those dogs.

When we came to the end of the island we found another great barrier of foliated rock extending from east to west, 500 m. across. The basin showed, moreover, three sets of giant rocks on the left side. In the north-easterly part where the river narrowed again there stood a range of hills 300 ft. high, extending from west to east, and parallel to the rocky barrier across the basin. A streamlet 3 m. wide coming from the south-west entered the Arinos from the left bank. The hill range which stood along the right bank of the river showed a rocky formation of a greyish colour right up to its summit, and was, in fact, a mere great rocky barrier with only a few trees growing in interstices which had been filled with earth and sand. The southern aspect of the range was an almost vertical wall.

The river was proceeding mostly in a westerly and north-westerly direction for long stretches of 3,500 m., 4,000 m., 2,000 m., until we came to an equilateral-triangular island, 300 m. each side—Erminia Island.[132] A small channel not more than 20 m. across separated this from an irregularly-shaped island, 600 m. long—Niobe Island. After this came a low island of sand and gravel 5 ft. high and 300 m. long, with merely a few trees upon it, whereas the other two islands were covered with dense and most beautiful vegetation. The main channel of the river was 400 m. wide.

Araras (macaws) of great size and of a beautiful vermilion colour flew overhead, shrieking wildly at the sight of us. We began to find a great many jacarés (Caiman fissipis) or crocodiles. I saw one sleeping placidly on an islet of gravel. I landed and photographed it, subsequently waking it with a start by throwing a stone at it. My men, who were following cautiously behind me, opened a fusillade and killed it.

It was really amusing to watch the astonishment of the few animals and birds we met in that deserted part of Brazil, as none of them had seen a human being. They evidently did not know what to make of us. They generally looked with curiosity and surprise, and my men could fire shot after shot before they would attempt to run, or, if they were birds, fly away.

There were in that region some fine specimens of the cigana (Opisthocomus cristatus) and of the jacú (Penelope cristata). The cigana was beautiful to look at, with brown and yellow stripes, not unlike a pheasant, and a tuft of bright yellow feathers on the head. All of a sudden we came upon great numbers of these birds, and they supplied us with good meals.

Terrifying Rapid shot by Author and his Men in their Canoe.

There were again plenty of rubber trees in the forest, plenty of fish in the river. The climate was not too hot—merely 87° F. in the shade, 105° in the[133] sun—the insects not too troublesome; so that it seemed to us a paradise on earth.

We had now before us a great expanse of 5,000 m. of straight river to 345° b.m., with two parallel ranges of hills extending from west to east. The second range was the higher of the two—some 600 ft., whereas the first was only 200 ft. high.

What I took to be a great river coming from 75° b.m. (N.E.), 250 m. wide, joined the Arinos from the right side; but I was puzzled whether this was not a mere arm of the Arinos. In the quick survey I was making, and with the many things which occupied my mind at every moment, the river being moreover so wide, it was impossible, single-handed, to survey everything carefully on every side. Therefore this may have been a mere arm of the Arinos which I mistook for a tributary. It was not possible for me to deviate from my course every moment to go and ascertain problematic details, but it will be quite easy for subsequent travellers to clear up this point now that attention has been drawn to it.

An island, 1,000 m. long—Olivia Island—was found at the point where the main arm of the river flowed in a direction of 345° b.m., and where to the north-west, north, and north-east, three hill ranges were before us—one 300 ft. high, extending from south-west to north-east on the left side of the river; another thickly wooded hill from west to east, also 300 ft. high; and yet another one, the highest of all, behind it from S.S.W. to N.N.E., on the right bank. The river was 350 m. wide, and its water almost stagnant.

Another barrier of rock held up the stream. We[134] came to an island 800 m. long, 300 m. wide—Sabrina Island—on the left side of the stream, which showed a beautiful spit of white sand at its southern end.

I halted on the bank where the island began in order to take observations for latitude and longitude, and as the day was a very clear one I took forty-eight consecutive sights of the sun with the sextant. Lat. 10° 35′·1 S.; long. 58° 12′ W. While I was busy observing the sun I thought I heard curious noises in the forest just behind me. The dogs all of a sudden jumped up, barking furiously, and I heard the sounds of what seemed an escaping person dashing away through the thick growth near the stream. My men were greatly excited, saying it was an Indian who had come quite close to me, and was about to shoot an arrow while I was busy with my sextant and chronometers. All through lunch they sat with their loaded rifles next to them, in case we might be attacked.

The river now flowed in a straight line for 5,000 m. in a north-westerly direction. Half-way along was a large triangular island—Pandora Island; then farther on the left another island, 2,000 m. long—Sibyl Island.

The river was of extraordinary beauty in that region. The tall range of hills to the north-west of us showed beautiful cobalt-blue tones against the whitish and grey sky; while the dark green foliage of the trees and the yellow blooms of the Oleo pardo trees visible here and there, the immaculate white sandy beach along the water line, together with the brilliantly red and yellow rocks which stood out of the crystalline emerald water, formed indeed a beautiful scene for the painter's brush.

[135] It did not do to be poetically inclined when travelling on the Arinos. I had hardly time to realize how beautiful that scene was when we found ourselves confronted by another big barrier of rocks, through which we went over a swift corrideira.

A basin was formed, 900 m. wide, with an extensive island of rock on the right side of it. Then we suddenly came to a terrible-looking rapid at an incline so steep that I foresaw trouble in store for us. There was no way of stopping anywhere, as the current was swiftly taking us down.

"We are lost!" shouted one man. "Jesus Maria Santissima!"

"Paddle away! paddle away, for Heaven's sake!" I shouted, as I knew that speed alone could save us from disaster.

Down went the canoe at an angle of 45° in the foaming and twisting waters of the rapid. Where the water curled right over itself the heavy canoe was lifted up in the air like a feather, and as I turned round to shout to Alcides to steer straight ahead I saw his expanded eyes looking in terror at the terrific whirlpool which was facing us at the bottom of the rapid.

"No! no!" cried Alcides.

"Straight—straight! For God's sake, straight!" shouted I; and as I saw the canoe swerve to the right I again shouted to Alcides to steer straight in order to avoid the dangerous part of the whirlpool.

Alcides would not steer straight, but steered us instead on the right for the very centre of the whirlpool. No sooner did the prow of the canoe enter the circle of the rotating water, which formed a deep con[136]cave hollow 70 or 80 m. in diameter, than, dipping her nose in the water, she was flung right up into the air, revolving on herself. Baggage and men all tumbled over, two men being thrown with terrific force clean out of the canoe. A lot of baggage disappeared into the whirlpool. The canoe, although filled with water, righted herself and spun round helplessly at an alarming speed. The impact had been so violent that the men, in tumbling over, had lost all the paddles except one.

We heard the cries of the two men in the water, and I saw them struggle in order to keep themselves afloat. I gave a sigh of relief that the two men—already a long distance from us—were, by a great stroke of luck, the only two who could swim. I urged them to have courage and we would come to their rescue, although for a moment I could not think how we should do it, as we had only one paddle left and the steering gear had got torn away from its socket, although Alcides with great courage had managed to save it. I ordered my men to paddle with their hands and with the large oar which was used for steering. We were tossed about in a terrific manner, the men and canoe going round and round the whirlpool in an absolutely helpless fashion.

Author's Men shooting a Crocodile.

What distressed me more than anything was when I saw the two men getting nearer and nearer the centre, although they made a desperate struggle to swim away from it. In our effort to get to them by using the steering oar, the canoe, for some reason or other, swung round upon herself two or three times, and I saw with gladness the men gradually getting nearer. It was a[137] moment of joy when I saw Antonio, who was a powerful swimmer, within only a few feet of the canoe. His face was ghastly, with an expression of terror upon it. He was quite exhausted, and was shouting pitifully for help. The man X was a few yards farther off.

The canoe suddenly swung round, going right against Antonio, who grasped the side of the boat and proceeded in such haste to climb on board that he came within an ace of capsizing her. A few moments later we were alongside of X, but he was so exhausted that he had not the strength to climb up. We seized him and with great difficulty lifted him inside the canoe.

We continued to go round and round the vortex in a helpless fashion, endeavouring with the steering oar to get out of that perilous position. As I gazed around I saw my camp bed and bedding, which were enclosed in a water-tight canvas bag, still floating close to the centre of the whirlpool. Alas! a moment later they were sucked down. Most of our cooking utensils which were loose in the canoe had been washed overboard. Two of our casseroles were floating gracefully in a circle round the whirlpool.

It is curious how people's mentality will work on such occasions. After we had been some minutes endeavouring to get away from the centre of the whirlpool, one of my men, who had recovered from the fright, saw the cooking pans, which were about to disappear. His first impulse was to shout that we must go and get them!

It was with some relief that we were able to extri[138]cate ourselves, and eventually reached the outer edge of the whirlpool, where the water changed direction, and the canoe was swung violently, entering a patch of comparatively placid water. Paddling with our hands we slowly reached the bank, and nearly an hour later—it having taken us all that time to go about 150 m.—we baled the water out of the canoe and proceeded to examine the amount of our loss.

Nearly all the cooking utensils, as I have said, had disappeared; two boxes of tinned provisions had gone overboard and were lost for ever; a bag of flour and a bag of rice had vanished in those terrible waters; a package containing a great part of my clothes had also gone for ever, as well as some of the clothing of my men. What was worse than all for me, my camp-bed and all my bedding were lost, which would compel me in the future to sleep either on the ground—which was practically impossible in that region owing to the number of ants and other insects—or else do as I did, sleep on four wooden packing-boxes, which I placed in a line. They made a most uneven and hard bed, as I had, of course, no mattress and no covering of any kind. A despatch-box, with some money, a lot of important official letters and other documents, were lost, and also my mercurial artificial horizon and one of my chronometers. A number of other things of less importance were also gone and quite beyond recovery.

We worked hard all that afternoon and the greater part of the night in shaping new paddles out of trees we had cut down with the axes, which were fortunately not lost. The new paddles were even more primitive and clumsy than those we had before.

[139] We dried what remained of our baggage in the sun during the afternoon. The beautiful sandy beach on which we had landed looked very gay with all the articles I had spread out from some of my trunks, including a dress-suit which I hung on a young palm, and other such articles, which looked rather incongruous in that particular region. All the white linen clothes I possessed had gone, and there only remained some good serge clothes which I had kept for my arrival in civilized places again. My water-tight boxes had been knocked about so much that they had got injured and let in a good deal of moisture.

One of my valuable cameras was badly damaged in the accident, and one of my sextants was soaked to such an extent that it took me the best part of two hours to clean it all up again. I saved the negatives which were in the damaged camera by developing them at once during the night while they were still wet.

My men were greatly excited over the accident, especially the two who had fallen into the water. In a way I was glad it had happened, as I was in hopes it might be a good lesson to them and they might be a little more careful in the future. Had Alcides obeyed my orders we should have gone through safely. I pointed that out to him, but it was no use; even then he maintained that in order to be safe you must steer right into the whirlpool and not out of it—which really made me begin to feel rather nervous, as I fully expected, as we went along, to find worse rapids than those we had negotiated so far, since we still had to get down from 1,000 ft. or so to the sea level.

We halted for the remainder of the day. I spent a[140] miserable night sleeping on the packing-boxes, now that my bed had gone for ever. I did not deserve that bit of ill-luck, for indeed my camp-bed was the only thing I possessed which gave me a little comfort. After working hard all day and the greater part of the night, a few hours spent lying down flat on the stretched canvas of the bed were most enjoyable; although never, throughout the entire journey, was I able to sleep soundly, as I always had to be on the alert, never knowing what might happen.

A Cataract in the River Arinos.

Author's Canoe among Great Volcanic Rocks.

The night of July 22nd was fairly cool, the minimum temperature being 58° F. When we proceeded on our journey in the morning we passed an island 1,500 m. long—Arabella Island. The river was now flowing due west. Again we came upon rocks in the centre and upon the right side of the river, with a strong corrideira and with dangerous submerged rocks close to the surface. There was an islet 150 m. long on the right side in a basin 500 m. broad. A hill 100 ft. high stood on the left side of the stream, while a hill range 300 ft. high was now visible to the W.N.W.

We had little time to admire the beautiful scenery, for we soon found ourselves upon another great barrier with a terrible-looking rapid. I asked my men if they preferred to shoot it, as the exertion of loading and unloading the canoe was certainly heavy.

"No, no, no, no!" they all cried in a chorus.

We therefore unloaded the canoe, and with considerable trouble and waste of time we led her down the rapid by means of ropes. Even led in that fashion with the greatest care, the canoe was entirely filled with water.

[141] Islets of rock of considerable beauty rose from the river on the right-hand side. As we got a little way farther, slightly more to the north-west, another hill range, perhaps a little higher than the one we had already observed, began to disclose itself to the north-west, on the right side of the river. As we advanced I further ascertained that the first range extended in a general direction from south-west to north-east. The river had actually eroded its way through this range. Strong rapids were again met with at that point, the channel being strewn with innumerable sharp-edged rocks, most unpleasant if you were to come in contact with them.

A small islet with a picturesque spur of rock on the north side was here seen; then a larger island, 300 m. long—Evelina Island—also on the left side. The river flowed for 3,000 m. in a N.N.W. direction, and at the end of that distance a rectangular island, 200 m. long and 80 m. wide—Eileen Island—embellished it. Like most of the islands in that particular portion of the river it had a beautiful spur of rock on its eastern side, preceded by a little islet also of rock. We passed to the left of this island. It was separated by a channel 80 m. wide from another narrow island, 200 m. to the west of it—Diana Island.

Just before getting to a third range extending from south-west to north-east, and, like the other two, about 300 ft. high, we came upon a long barrier of rock spreading diagonally for about 1,000 m. from south-west to north-east. A long narrow island (200 m. long)—Bertha Island—began from that point close to the right bank, and another had been separated by the[142] water from the bank itself. A tributary 2 m. wide was observed on the left side. We kept close to the left bank and passed on our right an island 300 m. long—Sophia Island.

So numerous were the islands following one another that I was beginning to have great difficulty in supplying sufficient names for them all.

More rapids were reached, and were of terrific force—especially in the centre of the river. It took me some little time to find a suitable passage, but at last I found a channel 25 m. wide through which I got the canoe among innumerable rocks. We went over a great filare—by which word the Italians cleverly define an extensive alignment in the stratum—of rock of extreme hardness which had evidently been fractured in some violent commotion of the earth, and had left sharp edges which cut just like knives close to the surface of the water. This rocky obstacle extended as usual from south-east to north-west.

A tiny streamlet entered the river on the left not far from the hill range on that same side. The trees in that particular region had a most peculiar appearance: their high, perfectly straight stems, quite free from branches or leaves up to their very summit, looked like so many columns, mostly of a whitish colour. Many, however, were encircled, others absolutely smothered with creepers. The scenery was really beautiful; it was like travelling through fairyland.

In the centre of the basin 400 m. wide to which we next came was an island, 80 m. in diameter—Gingillo Island—and to the south-west of it a small islet with an extensive beach and accumulation of rocks in a[143] northerly direction. On the southern side of the river a sand beach, interspersed with rocks, spread almost across, as far as the latter island.

I took 55 astronomical sights in order to get the exact latitude and longitude (lat. 10° 30′·7 S.; long. 58° 19′ W.), and to check the time of the second chronometer, which still remained in my possession. We had made poor progress that day as far as the distance went—only 17 kil. 100 m.

We had come to some nasty rapids, which at first looked quite impassable by water, some of the waves shooting up so high in the air as to make it out of the question for any canoe to go through.

There was another extensive filare of rock, so beautifully polished that it looked almost as if it had been varnished over. It was evidently an ancient flow of lava, with great holes in it here and there. The flow spread from south-west to north-east, was of a brilliant shining yellow, and most beautiful to look at.

I had to make my camp on the rocks near this rapid, where we unloaded the canoe in order to take her down by means of ropes by the eastern channel—very narrow and very unpleasant, but it was the only one possible. It was all we could do to hold the canoe as she tobogganed down the incline, and we had some nasty falls on the slippery rock trying to hold her.

We had a dangerous bit of work to do the moment we had descended the rapid, for we had then to navigate the canoe right across the basin, where whirlpools of some magnitude were formed, directly over a waterfall of some height and pouring down great volumes of water with a terrific roar on the north-east side of the[144] basin; then along the really terrifying rapid on the south-west side. It was necessary to do that, as I had observed that it was only on the opposite side of the river that we could possibly take the canoe down, and no other course was open to us than to go across that dangerous spot.

We had to be smart about it, or we certainly should have perished. My men behaved splendidly. We had reloaded the canoe. The quarter of an hour or so which it took us to cross that basin was somewhat exciting, as we struggled through the various whirlpools, the current all the time dragging us closer and closer to the waterfall, while my men were paddling with all their might and Alcides was steering right against the current in order to prevent the fatal leap.

I urged the men on, and they paddled and paddled away, their eyes fixed on the fall which was by that time only a few metres away from us. They were exhausted in the frantic effort, and their paddles seemed to have no effect in propelling the canoe. The men, who were always talkative, were now silent; only the man X exclaimed, as we were only eight or ten metres from the fall: "Good-bye, father and mother! I shall never see you again!" The other men gave a ghastly grin.

Preparing to descend a Rapid.

A Cataract in the Arinos River.

"Go on! Row! row!—For God's sake row!" I shouted to them, as I saw they had given themselves up for lost. "Row!" I shouted once more; and as if the strength had suddenly come back to them they made a frantic effort. The canoe went a little faster for a minute or two—just enough for us to clear the[145] waterfall and to drift alongside some rocks which stood in the centre of the stream. We were saved.

My men were so exhausted that we had to rest there for some time before we could proceed to cross the dreadful rapid down the other portion of the barrier.

I was glad we had had that experience, because it showed me that after all it was possible to make brave men of men who were absolutely pusillanimous before. When I mentioned that we still had to go over the other dangerous part, they said, much to my delight:

"We are Brazilians—we are afraid of nothing! We will come with you." And what is more, they did.

They smoked a few cigarettes. I had always supplied them with ample tobacco in order to keep them in a good temper. Then when I gave the order to start they jumped gaily into the canoe, shouting again:

"We are Brazilians! We are afraid of nothing!"

So we began negotiating the second portion of that nasty crossing. There is nothing I admire more than courage. My men went up in my estimation that day at least a hundred per cent.

The second part of our crossing was just as dangerous as the first part—perhaps more so. The men, however, behaved splendidly, and rowed with such vigour that we got through safely and quickly above the most difficult portion, and eventually landed upon a mass of rocks on the opposite side of the stream.

There we had a busy time, as we had once more to unload the canoe, cut a way through the forest in[146] order to convey the baggage overland to a spot about half a mile farther down stream; then we had to come back to take the canoe by means of ropes down the rapid itself.

It was necessary for one of us to be inside the canoe in order to steer her while being led down. Alcides, who was indeed an extraordinarily brave man, would not hand over his job to anybody else, and insisted on being allowed to steer the canoe. It was with great reluctance that I allowed him, as he could not swim. When we proceeded to let the canoe down by the small western channel, the foaming waters and high waves rolling back upon themselves with great force were most troublesome to negotiate. The canoe was repeatedly lifted right out of the water, and gave us holding the ropes such violent jerks that we were flung in all directions. When I got up again, still holding on to the rope, Alcides had disappeared. He had been pitched clean out of the canoe. Fortunately, a moment later I saw that he was clinging to the steering gear, which we had made extra fast in order that it might stand the great strain.

We managed to pull the canoe and Alcides close to the rocks. Eventually we all had to go into the water up to our necks and lead the canoe by hand with the greatest care in the swift current for the remaining distance. Once or twice we were nearly overpowered by the current, and we were glad when, nearly two hours later, our job was finished, and, absolutely exhausted, we made camp for the night on the rocks.

The men were so excited that during the entire night they sat up commenting on the experience of[147] the day. Their remarks were quite amusing, especially their imitations of the rush of the water, the bumping of the canoe, and Alcides' sudden disappearance and narrow escape from drowning.

The waterfall and rapids spread across the river at that spot for some 650 m. During the night of July 24th the thermometer showed a minimum temperature of 62° F.

I noticed a small streamlet 1 m. wide on the left bank, and to the W.S.W. a conical hill rising over a gently sloping undulating range 350 ft. above the river level—that is to say, about 1,400 ft. above the sea level.

A strong wind sprang up, which caught us sideways and produced such high waves breaking over the canoe, and so severe a motion, that my men became ill. We had to stop, until the wind abated, on a small charming island. As we were approaching the island Alcides sent us right over a rock which was sticking some 2 ft. above water. The bottom of the canoe was so scraped in the violent collision that a good deal of the stuffing with which we had filled the longitudinal crack was torn off, and she quickly filled with water. When we halted more garments had to be destroyed in order to fill up the aperture to the best of our ability.

When the storm was over we continued our journey, going over some rapids in quite a novel way. The men were quarrelling among themselves and had stopped paddling, the paddles being waved in the air in a threatening way as they spoke violently to one another. Alcides had also left the steering gear, and in his fury[148] against the other men had seized his rifle in order to give force to his words. We were approaching the rapid. I advised them to continue their quarrel after we had gone through, but they would not listen to me. The prow of the canoe, just as we were about to enter the rapid, was caught in a rock, and the canoe swung right round, so that we shot the rapid floating down stern first. We shipped a lot of water, the refreshing bath somewhat cooling the excitement of my men, who, realizing the danger when we entered the whirlpool, took to paddling again.

I discovered from their conversation during the night that my men were imbued with the idea that I had a guardian angel attending my person, and that no matter what happened while they were with me they would have no mishap.

The river gradually turned northwards again. I noticed on the right side a hill-range 350 ft. high, extending from south-west to north-east.

The wind came up again, tossing the canoe about considerably. My men once more became seasick owing to the rolling. The new paddles we had made from fresh wood after our accident in the rapids did not prove much of a success, the wood splitting badly. We had to keep the various pieces together by tying them with string. I could not help laughing when I looked at my men paddling. One paddle had a quadrangular blade; another formed an elongated oval; a third had originally been circular but was then reduced to the shape of a half-moon, the other half having been washed away.

Lake formed where the Arinos and Juruena Rivers meet.

Going through a Rapid.

For 4,000 m. the river had flowed due west, then it[149] turned to 310° b.m. Two large islands in succession—one 400 m. long and 350 m. wide—Pericles Island; the second of an equal width to the first, and 700 m. long—Aspasia Island—were seen.

A high wind from the north-east and east continued the entire day, and broke into occasional severe gusts that were most troublesome to us. Heavy rain-clouds hung over our heads. My men felt cold and shivery and quite miserable in the choppy waters, which made them extremely ill. Their faces were green and yellow, their eyes had a pitiful expression in them. They looked as if they were all being led to execution. The temperature of the atmosphere was only 75° F.

Shortly before sunset, after a beautiful stretch of river of 4,000 m. to 335° b.m. (N.N.W.), followed by one of 4,000 m. 5° farther to the north, we came to an immense basin—a regular lake—4,000 m. long, 1,500 m. wide, with two lovely islands in its northerly part. It was there that the great River Juruena, coming from the south-west, joined the Arinos. We had the greatest difficulty in crossing the big, deep lake, because of the high wind which was blowing at the time. The waves were high and caught us on one side; the rolling was so heavy that on many occasions we shipped a great deal of water and nearly capsized. When we got into the centre of the lake the wind increased in fury. My men were very ill and much scared—for we had a great expanse of water on all sides and we could not bale the water out of the canoe fast enough, so quickly was she filling. I urged on the men all the time and took an extra paddle myself to encourage them. We made slow progress, the men[150] suffering greatly. I had to wait for their convenience every few moments when they were badly indisposed.

We tossed about for the best part of two hours, until at last we reached the opposite side of the lake. In a hurry to land, Alcides threw the canoe over some rocks on which the water was breaking with fury. However, the water was shallow at that point. We jumped out, and eventually, trembling with cold, we beached the canoe on a most beautiful island, where we made our camp for the night.

[151]

## CHAPTER X

The Point of Junction of the Arinos and Juruena Rivers—Elfrida Landor Island—Terrible Days of Navigation—Immense Islands—An Old Indian Camp—A Fight between a Dog and an Ariranha—George Rex Island—A Huge Sucuriú Snake

The spot where the two great rivers met was most impressive, especially from the island on which we stood, directly opposite the entrance of the two streams. The immense lake was spread before us, and beyond were the two great rivers meeting at an angle. Great walls of verdant forest lined all the banks and islands before us. Curiously enough, both in the Arinos and in the Juruena two long narrow islands appeared parallel to the banks of each stream. The islands resembled each other in size. The Juruena had two islands near its mouth, one narrow and long, the other in the shape of a quadrangle. The Arinos also showed a long and narrow island at its mouth, and another ending in a point.

It was my intention to take soundings right across the mouth of the Arinos and also across the mouth of the Juruena, but unluckily, owing to the strong easterly wind which prevailed that day, it was quite impossible for me to attempt such a task at the mouth of the Arinos, and equally impossible was it to proceed back across the lake to the mouth of the Juruena[152] to measure the volume of water which came out of that river. Without any attempt at mathematical accuracy I should say that the two rivers carried an almost equal volume of water.

Where we landed there were two separate islands, one of which I named after my sister—the Elfrida Landor Island; the other one, next to it, I named Francesco Island. The Elfrida Landor Island—really most beautiful to look at—was 800 m. long; Francesco Island was 1,200 m. in length but not quite so broad.

There was a most picturesque channel 200 m. wide, with marvellous rocks forming a barrier across it, on the right side of the river, between Francesco Island and the right bank. The main part of the stream, however, flowed in a much larger channel between the left bank and Elfrida Landor Island.

The joint Arinos-Juruena River had now a total width of 500 m., and flowed in a direction of 15° bearings magnetic. I took accurate observations with the hypsometrical apparatus in order to determine the exact elevation of that important spot: water boiled at the junction of the Juruena and Arinos at 210°·4¾, while the temperature of the air was 70° F.; in other words the elevation of the place was 987 ft. above the sea level.

Author's Canoe going down a Cataract.

I also took observations there for latitude and longitude. Lat. 10° 21′·7 S.; long. 58° 35′ W. The Juruena entered the lake from bearings magnetic 250° (W.S.W.), the Arinos from bearings magnetic 100° (E.S.E.). The minimum temperature during the night on Elfrida Island was 57° F. My men suffered a great deal from the cold, as they had got badly[153] chilled with the wet and the high wind during the day. Most of them complained of severe rheumatic pains and violent toothache. They could not understand why I did not have any pains of any kind—and to tell the truth, neither could I, after all we had gone through of late.

When we left Elfrida Landor Island on July 25th we had a beautiful stretch of river 4,000 m. long in a straight line, but with a good many rocks strewn in the channel. The men paddled unwillingly, as they said they were aching all over; but the current was strong and we were going along fairly quickly. My men said that we must now have come to the end of all the rapids. I did not care to disillusion them, although I suspected that we still had hard days in store. We had not proceeded very far when a rumbling noise warned us that we were approaching danger. There was a rapid on the east side of the river, but it left a fairly easy passage on the west. A little farther, however, we came to a very bad rapid, and had to unload the canoe, which we were obliged to let down carefully with ropes. My men, who felt feverish and irritable, owing to our previous day's experience, were greatly upset at this new obstacle facing us.

The river was 500 m. wide at this part. The rocks on which we trod when we took the canoe down were so sharp that they cut our feet. It was not possible to wear shoes, as when we had them on we slipped on the rock and had no hold upon the ropes. My men, in their state of weakness, had not sufficient strength to hold the canoe, and the moment she entered the[154] swift current she escaped, dragging one man into the rapid. I jumped into the water after him, and just managed to grab him before he was swept away altogether in the terrific current. We were all drenched, and as the wind blew with great violence that day, and there was no sun to warm us up, we felt the cold very much.

The canoe was thrown mercilessly now against one rock, then against another; but, as luck would have it, after she had made several pirouettes, we, running all the time with our bleeding feet on the sharp rocks along the bank, were eventually able to recapture her at the end of the rapid. Then came the job of going back to fetch all the baggage and bring it down, baling the water out of the canoe, and starting off once more.

My men were tired; they said they could stand the work no more, and they wanted to remain there and die. It took much persuasion to make them come on. I succeeded principally by giving them a good example, carrying down most of the loads that day myself from the upper end of the rapid to the lower—a distance of several hundred metres. I was getting tired, too, of carrying the heavy loads, but I never let my men see it; that would have been fatal.

The river was divided into two channels by a group of islands which must at one time have been one great triangular one, subsequently worn by parallel and transverse channels into seven islands. The first, most southerly, was 300 m. broad, 150 m. long, and of a triangular shape. The three immediately behind this, and of irregular shapes, had an average length of some 700 m.; whereas the last group of[155] three, all of elongated shapes, had a length of 300 m. each. I was getting to the end of the list of names for all those islands, and I was at a loss to find seven names all of a sudden, so I called the group the Seven Sisters Islands. At the end of the group the river narrowed to 400 m. in width between a long island to the west and the right bank, and flowed due north for 12,000 m. in a direct line—indeed a most beautiful sight. Fifteen hundred metres down that distance a great barrier of columnar or cylindrical rocks stuck out of the water from W.S.W. to E.N.E. North of those rocks on the left side, upon the island, not less than 5,000 m. long—Lunghissima Island—was a beautiful yellow sand beach 200 m. long, which formed a separate islet with trees upon its northerly half. Numerous rocks obstructed the east side (right) of the river.

Farther on, another lovely sandy islet 100 m. long had formed behind a number of rocks, and was of a clean, beautiful yellowish white, with a few shrubs and trees growing upon it. All those sand beaches were extremely interesting to me. I invariably landed upon them. I had made a wonderful collection of all the minute plants and delightful miniature flowers which grew upon these beaches—an immense variety, indeed, but of such small dimensions and of such delicate tints that it required sometimes a great strain of eyesight to see them at all. Some were really most beautiful. I spent a good deal of time and patience in collecting, pressing, and classifying those dainty little sand-plants, and I was beginning to flatter myself that I had formed a complete collection.

At the spot where Lunghissima Island came to an[156] end a large triangular island was to be seen on the left of us. A great barrier of rocks stretched across the stream, a prominent cluster of picturesque boulders forming a powerful spur which cut the current at the southern part of the triangle of land.

Although the thermometer marked 93° in the sun my men complained of the intense cold, partly because they all had fever, partly also because the wind was extremely strong that day and caused waves of some size in the stream, which dashed against the canoe and splashed us all over. Again my men were seasick that day, and got furious with me as I could not help laughing at their plight.

With a slight deviation of 20° to the west came another stretch of 4,000 m. in a straight line. A two-humped range of hills now loomed before us to the north-west. We had gone along the side of another elongated island 8,000 metres in length—Yolanda Island. When we came to the end of this great island, two other islands parallel to each other were disclosed to the west of us, one 1,000 m. long—Carmela Island—the other 600 m.—Stella Island. The first had a pretty island 300 m. long—Hilda Island—next to it on the east side. We halted at the end of Yolanda Island and there took observations for latitude and longitude, thirty-one consecutive sights of the sun being taken. Lat. 10° 13′·3 S; long. 58° 35′ W.

The Immense Waves encountered by Author in emerging from the Channel in the Rapid of the Inferno.

(The canoe with its occupants shot up vertically in the air.)

When we resumed our journey four more islets were visible and a barrier of rock from north-west to south-east again stretching right across the stream. Just beyond lay Romola Island, 1,200 m. long and equally broad. At the end of the island we found a channel[157] 100 m. wide, separating it from two neighbours on the east; in fact, much to my dismay, we found ourselves in a regular maze of islands and rocks, and my time was fully employed keeping an account of and measuring them.

A crescent-shaped island—Urania Island—1,000 m. in length, with most wonderful vegetation upon it, was now on our left. That region was extraordinarily rich in rubber. The channel which we had followed was strewn all over with rocks. Another island, 400 m. long—Caterina Island—followed. The current in the Arinos-Juruena River had a speed of 80 m. a minute. The river in places where no islands lay had a width of 200 m. The water was most beautifully clear, of a lovely emerald green, with a wonderful white sand bottom clearly visible although the river had considerable depth in many places. Yet another island, 600 m. long—Una Island—came in sight to the right of us; then another between two companions, forming almost a circle round the central isle. The river now formed a basin not less than 800 m. wide with innumerable rocks at the entrance. We went on kilometre after kilometre, spending our time in avoiding unpleasant rocks, when again we came first to fairly strong rapids, then to an extremely dangerous rapid, which we shot, as we were carried away into it before we had time to realize where we were. We had the greatest difficulty in extricating ourselves from the many terrifying whirlpools at the end of the rapid, in a great basin 900 m. wide. We found a most beautiful halting place on a natural terrace of volcanic rock some 20 ft. above the river, with a dome of rock in the centre.

[158] I met signs of Indians close to the river. Evidently a tribe had once halted there, but apparently many years before our arrival. I discovered their fireplaces, several carved pieces of wood, and some fragments of rudimentary pottery in the neighbourhood of this picturesque spot. In exploring round the place I also found some almost entirely obliterated indications of several ancient trails which had been made by the Indians in the forest.

Looking toward bearings magnetic 340°, and also in the opposite direction to the south, most gorgeous river scenes were before us. This was by far the most beautiful spot I had come across on the river so far. I therefore named the huge island on which I stood George Rex Island. I gave Alcides orders to carve the name on a tree, but as he was an anarchist he refused to do it, excusing himself by saying that he had injured his hand.

At that camp we caught over 400 lb. of fish in less than half an hour—three jahus among the number, each weighing over 40 lb. Then we also captured two cachorra or dog fish, which possessed vicious-looking molars of great length, not unlike those of a big dog. Each of these fish weighed over 30 lb. Then we got eight trahiras, some 20 lb. each in weight. With the little salt which remained we preserved some of the fish, as we were now getting very short of food. However, we had excellent meals most of the time on the river, frying the fish with fat which we extracted from the fish itself.

During the night of July 26th we had a minimum temperature of 55° F., but as we had had plenty to[159] eat the previous evening—in fact, too much—we did not feel the cold quite so severely.

Ariranhas in large families were plentiful near that spot, and came close several times, grinding their teeth at us, especially when we were slaughtering the fish on the bank. We kept watch during the entire night, as on that occasion they were truly vicious. Our dogs, for a change, became quite sportive. One of them, named Negrino, got furious with the ariranhas, and, driven mad by their unmusical noises, actually jumped into the stream to go to their attack. In a moment he had quantities of ariranhas upon him, and was bitten savagely, one ear being nearly torn off. He endeavoured to beat a retreat, but by that time he was in mid-stream and struggling for dear life against his enemies. We put out in the canoe at once and went to his rescue, eventually getting him on board in an exhausted condition, and bleeding terribly all over.

We enjoyed a hearty breakfast of boiled and fried fish before leaving camp at 9 o'clock in the morning. We were sorry to leave the beautiful camp—the best we had had since we had been on the River Arinos. There were before us two great channels. The one flowing east was the larger of the two, fully 400 m. wide and 3,000 m. long in a straight line. As we were paddling along we passed on our left a triangular island the southern side of which was 2,000 m. long, the south-east side 500 m.—Angela Island.

Where the river deviated to 30° b.m. a perfectly straight stretch of 8,000 m. was before us—a most beautiful sight. Two parallel islands, only 50 m. wide, one 400 m. the other 300 m. long, were[160] on the right of us, in the part of the river where George Rex Island, which was still to the right of us, described a graceful semicircle. Fifteen hundred metres farther down George Rex Island came to an end with a beautiful spit of sand 200 m. long. Just beyond, still on our right, another island, 400 m. long—Rosalinda Island—was passed, also with a lovely spit of sand 200 m. in extent. The river at this place had a total width of 500 m. At a point 5,000 m. down the straight stretch due east we came to three parallel elongated islands, two of them 300 m. long, the third 1,000 m. in length, all three on the right of us as we floated down. A barrier of rocks extended right across the stream from north-west to south-east, at a spot where on our left side, at b.m. 330°, a hill range extended northwards. With a slight deviation of 10° eastward (40° b.m.) another beautiful stretch of 6,000 m. was before us. More islands, more clusters of picturesque rocks were passed. First came a group of two islands, the larger 350 m. long—Vanessa Island; then a beautiful clean sand-spit 150 m. long, almost in mid-stream, preceded a group of three parallel islands—Philomela Island, 400 m. long, Portia Island, 300 m. and Psyche Island, 4,500 m. Beyond these were two more islands, one triangular in shape in the centre of the stream—Rhea Island—some 250 m. long, with a strong corrideira at its north-easterly terminus.

A Giant Sucurí Snake with Entire Deer contained in its Digestive Organs.

A most gorgeous sand-bank of great length now lay on our left, while on the right we had two small islets, one 100 m. long, another, beyond it, 500 m. long. A tributary entered the Arinos-Juruena at that spot on the right side. Where the river turned again due[161] east for 3,000 m., another set of parallel islands with a chain of hills beyond them on the right bank was to be seen. The hill range extended from north-west to south-east. All these ranges, with a backbone of rock underneath, formed, as it were, the ribs which held up the central plateau of Brazil. We were now in a region of wonderful accumulations of sand; nearly all the islands showed a sand-spit of great length on the up-stream side. Great islands occurred once more: Paulina Island, 2,500 m. long, on our left; another, 200 m. long—Olivia Island—on our right; and a third—Clara Island—just beyond it. A long tail of rocks followed, and the channel was strewn with dangerous rocks where the river had cut its way through the range of hills.

What must have been formerly an immense island which had become cut up into three was now on the left of us as we followed the central channel in an easterly direction. The first of these was comparatively small; the next—Tristan Island—was 1,500 m. long; the third—Isolda Island—1,000 m. long. All were of extraordinary beauty. Rubber trees were to be seen, but not in such great numbers as we had found farther up the stream. Evidently the soil was somewhat too rocky and not sufficiently moist for their healthy growth.

From due east the river suddenly turned to due north, diverted by the great rib of rock which had formerly made part of the hill range we had now on our right. We had a good deal of trouble here, as difficult rapids were encountered, and sharp, cutting rocks, collision with which would have been fatal for[162] us. Our canoe, after the many bumps we had already experienced, gave alarming signs that she might split in two longitudinally at any moment. For 5,000 m. the river flowed in a northerly direction. Great domes of granite and immense boulders were scattered near the left bank, and rocks of all sizes and shapes emerged from the water all over the basin, which was 600 m. across. Another barrier of rock stretched from north-east to south-east and formed a high drop in the river. We had to unload the canoe once more upon some rocks in mid-stream, then let her gently down the step of foaming waters by ropes. We were then in a magnificent basin 1,000 m. wide, with a great cluster of impressive rocks on the right side, in front of two enchantingly beautiful islands—Melisande Island, 400 m. long, Pelleas Island, 700 m. long—on the left.

Whenever I was gazing enraptured at the heavenly scenery Alcides always managed to send the canoe on to some rock, which quickly brought me back, not to earth but to water. His principle in life was always to do the worst thing and then you knew that nothing worse could happen—a topsy-turvy philosophy for which we all had to suffer. Emerging from the basin, we had two channels before us, one to the N.N.E., the other N.N.W. Gigantic palm trees such as we had seen along the River Arinos were now to be seen all along the banks of the river. We saw in the water not far from us a large sucuriú snake (Eunictes murinus), fully 6 in. in diameter. It peeped its head out of the water to gaze curiously into our canoe, and caused some excitement among my men.

Another immense barrier of rocks with most trouble[163]some rapids extended from south-west to north-east right across the stream. That seemed a great place for snakes, especially in the narrow and tortuous channel which we followed, between a great island—Victor Emmanuel Island—and the left bank. We were going along fairly gaily when I saw a huge snake—another sucuriú—floating upon the water among the foliage and branches of a fallen tree. The section of the body which I could perceive measured fully 2½ ft. in diameter, and I must say that for one moment—we were only about 20 ft. away from it—I was somewhat surprised, as my quickly calculating mind constructed in my imagination a snake at least 100 ft. long. My men immediately took to their rifles, and were about to open a fusillade, but I stopped them, not caring to disturb the sleep of so gigantic a reptile. It was with some relief that, as the canoe floated quietly a little farther, I perceived the head of the snake resting gracefully in a sound slumber upon a branch of the tree out of the water. The head was of more normal proportions. We landed a little distance away as quietly as possible, my men trembling all over with excitement and fear in case the reptile should wake up. Then all together they opened a fusillade until a bullet actually struck the snake and it wriggled about. There was a stampede of all my men through the foliage and plants which grew along the stream. The snake was dead. When they had made quite sure that life was extinct my men returned and pulled the snake out of the water. Although the section we had seen floating was so big, the rest of the body was not more than 4 in. in diameter. The snake had eaten an[164] entire veado (deer), and that was the cause of the great swelling of the central part of its body. The shape of the devoured animal could be seen plainly inside it. The photograph of the reptile which I took is given in one of the illustrations of this book. The light was not good for photographic purposes, as it was late in the afternoon and the snake, which after all was only 18 ft. 5 in. long, lay under the shadow of the foliage, which made photography rather difficult. As I was trying to get a second photograph my men proceeded with their knives to open the snake and see what was inside. The terrific odour which ensued when they did so made us violently ill, causing desperate vomiting. I have seen it stated, in some books which have been published about South America, that snakes of incredible length are believed to exist on that continent. Undoubtedly the notion has been suggested by the fact that inexperienced travellers have seen immensely broad traces of snakes along the soft ground near rivers. Measuring the diameter of those trails they came to the conclusion that the snake was 80 to 100 ft. long, and without taking further trouble to ascertain they stated they had actually seen a snake of that length. Whereas, as a matter of fact, as in the case I have described, the immense diameter of the snake was merely in the section which enclosed some big animal which had been swallowed.

An Easy Rapid.

Going through a Narrow Channel.

[165]

## CHAPTER XI

A Family of Ariranhas—Attacked by them—Three Nasty Rapids—Beautiful Sand Beaches—Exciting Experiences—Going down a Thundering Cataract—Alcides' Narrow Escape—A Night's Work in the Midst of a Foaming Rapid in order to rescue the half-submerged Canoe—Filippe's Courage—Visited by a Snake 20 ft. long

We camped some hundred metres away from the spot where we had killed the sucuriú. It was getting late. My men did not sleep a wink the whole night, as they thought perhaps the mate of the snake might come and pay us a visit. We had a lively time the entire night, as we had made our camp over the home of a family of ariranhas. They had their young in a small grotto in the bank, and we heard them all night squealing for their mothers, who were grinding their teeth and shrieking furiously a little way off from the bank, not daring to enter their homes while we were near. They were, I think, more frightened of the fire which my men had made than they were of us. There were twenty or thirty of them, and they made so much noise during the night that it was quite out of the question to rest. The vegetation was very thick, the damp considerable, and the air quite stifling, with a minimum temperature of 60° F. Occasionally, when the air moved at all, we could smell our friend the dissected sucuriú.

[166] We were glad to leave at eight o'clock the next morning; we seldom could make an earlier start, owing to the slowness of my men in getting their breakfast and mine ready, and reloading the canoe, as all the baggage was taken out every night. Where we had made camp, Victor Emmanuel Island came to an end, the length of the island being some 14 kil. We had great fun just before leaving, the ariranhas coming boldly to attack us as we were getting into the canoe. Our dogs, which had been squealing and growling the whole night at the unmusical shrieks of the ariranhas, now jumped into the water, and there was a fierce fight between them and the amphibious animals. My men, as usual, fired a great many shots. Eventually we recovered our dogs and started off once more on our journey.

The river flowed from that point at first mostly in a north-easterly direction and in a somewhat winding course; then gradually tended toward the north-west. In the western part of a large basin 1,200 m. broad were two islands and innumerable rocks. Then, farther on, one more long rocky barrier extended from north-west to south-east in the north-western part of the basin. Once more did we have to let the canoe down the terrific rapids by means of ropes.

Where the river turned to the north-west it was 500 m. wide and most beautiful. A great many islands were seen, and innumerable rocks barred the entrance of the channel at the end of the basin above described. Soon after, however, we entered another basin 1,000 m. wide, with more islands and rapids fairly easy to negotiate. Once more did the river turn due north[167] for 6,000 m., after we had gone over another swift and most troublesome rapid, where we had to unload our baggage and take the canoe down carefully with ropes. After that we entered a long channel strewn with rocks. We had not gone far when another strong rapid was encountered, over another great barrier of rock. No sooner had we negotiated that difficult passage than another great barrier of rock, also from south-west to north-east, had to be gone over through a troublesome rapid.

My men were getting tired of exploring, and were perplexed, because the more dangers we surmounted the greater seemed the dangers confronting us. They were beginning to lose the nerve they had temporarily acquired, and were now so scared at the vicious waters that they tried to keep the canoe all the time close to the banks or islands, the river being so deep that they thought this was the best way of saving their lives in case we had a bad accident. The current was extraordinarily swift, and to make things worse a strong north-easterly wind blew with great fury, driving us back and producing such high waves that our canoe was constantly filled with water. The result of keeping so close to the bank, and having our heads continually brushed by the foliage which overhung the stream, was that each time we came in contact with the branch of a tree thousands of ants would drop on to the canoe and upon us, and would bite us furiously. This was most trying—an additional torture to that we had to endure of being stung all over by other insects which followed the canoe in swarms.

We had not gone much farther along when within 1,000 m. we came to three nasty rapids in succession,[168] over barriers of great rocks intersected by interesting veins of quartz. From that point the river was fairly straight for 7 kil. We had that morning encountered five troublesome rapids, which had given us endless work. When we halted we were simply ravenous. We were fortunate enough to get plenty of fish for lunch, and while my men were enjoying a hearty feast I took the usual astronomical observations, eaten all over as I was by mosquitoes and piums, while bees innumerable had settled on my face and arms. The latitude was 9° 40′·4 S.; the longitude 58° 34′ W. The bees had a most peculiar pungent odour, which they seemed to leave on one's skin when they had walked on it. We kept our heads wrapped up in towels; but even then we suffered a great deal.

A Dangerous Vortex.

Preparing the Canoe to go down a Rapid.

When we started in the afternoon we continued to travel in a direction of 330° b.m., and came to a large basin, easily identifiable by subsequent travellers by three extensive domes of granite on the right side, two of them actually on the bank of the stream at the entrance of the basin. Where an elongated island, 3,000 m. long—Oriana Island—beside which we had travelled, ended on our left, we saw another island that continued half-way down the basin, here some 2,000 m. wide. The second island—Diana Island—was fully 8,000 m. in length. In the centre of this great basin was a triangular island—Pomona Island—4,000 m. long and with a base of 1,500 m. A tributary was visible on the right bank, just opposite a great dome of granite with an appendix of sand and gravel which stood in the middle of the channel. After we had travelled for 2,500 m., a basin some 1,400 m. wide opened again,[169] with a small island, 400 m. long, in the centre—M. Adams Island. This charming islet had a picturesque headland of rock on the south side, and a long spur, also of rock, to the north. We made our camp here. The river was really marvellously beautiful at this point, the vegetation all round being vigorous and healthy, with a great wealth of rubber trees, while the huge volcanic rocks strewn about added much to the picturesqueness of the scene.

It was warm during the night (minimum temperature 63° F.), and we were treated to a most tormenting concert of mosquitoes. They swarmed positively in millions around us. With my bed and bedding which I had lost in the rapids I had unfortunately also lost my mosquito net, and I now was suffering greatly from the stings of all the troublesome insects. My bones were aching all over from sleeping on the uneven packing-cases placed in a row which now formed my bed. It took too much time and trouble to unfasten the straps and buckles which kept the boxes tightly closed, and they did not add to the comfort when one lay spread on them.

When we left in the morning of July 28th, going along a beautiful stretch of close upon 25 kil. in great expanses from 4,000 to 6,000 m. long, we passed first of all an elongated quadrangular island 1,500 m. long; then farther on great masses of volcanic rock. At the end of that stretch the river divided into two channels separated by an equilateral-triangular island, the side of which was 2,000 m.—Minerva Island. Another island, also of great beauty, and with a considerable number of rubber trees upon it, was found a[170] little farther, and there a bar of sand spread beneath shallow water right across the stream.

We had gone 31,500 m. that morning. When we found a most beautiful beach of lovely sand we could not resist the temptation of halting on it to prepare our lunch. Our surprise was great when we set foot on the beach to hear shrill whistles beneath us. The beach was formed of whistling—or singing—sand. The reason the sand was musical was because some large insects had bored thousands of holes of great depth into its moistened mass, which allowed the holes to retain their form. When the sand was trodden the pressure drove the warmish air contained in those holes with great force through the contracted apertures and caused a sharp whistling and occasionally quite melodious notes.

I again took observations for latitude and longitude at this place, but I was beginning to find the work too heavy—not the observing in itself, but the computing of all the observations, at which I was not particularly quick. (Lat. 9° 24′ S.; Long. 58° 40′ W.) Also, the great care which I had to take of the chronometer under most difficult circumstances was a trial to me, considering the numberless things I had to look after. The only little comfort I had on that journey had been my camp bed, on which I could, if not sleep soundly, at least rest my weary bones for a few hours at night. That had now gone, and I was beginning to feel the strain of the hard work, constant mental exertion, and the total lack of rest.

We had passed a great number of islands in the morning: one 2,000 m. long—Melusine Island; another[171] 300 m.—Janus Island; a third 3,000 m.—Midas Island—by the side of which was another enormous island, some 6,000 m. in length—Miranda Island. Then little islets 200 and 250 m. long, and another big island, 2,000 m. from end to end—A. Masõ Island.

Most beautiful sandy beaches were now constantly seen, mostly, like the one on which we had landed, composed of singing sand. (Some of those beaches were 200 and 300 m. long.) The beach on which we had landed for lunch was at the southern end of a great island, 5,700 m. long, which I named Queen Mary Island.

We left again that afternoon, travelling fairly speedily, chiefly in W.N.W. and S.S.W. directions, varying from 290° b.m. to 230° b.m. When we came to the end of Queen Mary Island, after passing some really remarkable beaches on which we found a great many turtles' eggs, we came to a large basin, 1,800 m. across, with numberless rocks scattered on the north and south sides of it. The river there flowed due west; in fact, those rocks formed a kind of corona all around the great circle. A crescent-shaped island, 2,800 m. long—Giselle Island—was next passed. The channel through which we went was full of dangerous rocks, and had a width of 280 m.

Soon after another basin 1,600 m. broad was reached, with a formidable barrier of islets and rocks spreading from south to north. The river there flowed in a perfectly straight course for 10 kil. to 310° b.m. A most extraordinary-looking islet with a circular terrace of rock on the east side of it, which was passed in mid-stream, was surrounded by a giant crown of pyramidal[172] rocks of great height emerging in sharp points from the water. We had gone but 6,000 m. of that distance when we came to an island on the right side with a gorgeous spit, also of musical sand, 300 m. long. The island itself was only 700 m. long including the sand-spit—Kuvera Island. We were then in an immense basin with leaden waters as still as those of a pond.

We made our camp in a most picturesque spot, an immense beach forming innumerable indentations, really like small dunes of sand deposited by water. The accurate elevation of that place was, according to the observations taken with the hypsometrical apparatus, 967 feet, water boiling at that spot at 210° 3¾, and the temperature of the atmosphere being 72½° F. The indented beach, not unlike a giant double-comb, was at the beginning of a great island which I named James Dewar Island, in honour of the great discoverer of liquid air. The minimum temperature during the night of July 29th was 55° F.

Since we had come to the enormous sand accumulations along the stream the troublesome insects which worried us day and night seemed to have doubled or trebled in numbers, and we suffered positive torture from them, especially when we landed anywhere.

A Narrow Passage in the Arinos River.

Treble Vortex.

(The water revolved in three different directions in succession.)

We left fairly early in the morning, finding soon afterwards a group of sharply pointed rocks, some above the surface of the stream, some—most dangerous—just under the surface. Another basin, 1,000 m. broad, was crossed, which contained two islets and a number of rocks forming a barrier from south-west to north-east. Two kilometres farther along another immense barrier of rocks and numberless islets obstructed[173] the river from south-west to north-east, so that for a little time we could not see which way the stream flowed out of it at all. Sharply-pointed rocks, ugly and fearsome-looking, stood up everywhere. When eventually we did perceive a channel, down which we went, we found terrifying rapids followed by fearful eddies and a most alarming whirlpool.

I could not measure the exact width of the basin there, as there was a regular maze of islands and I could not well see from the canoe where the banks exactly were.

A great island, 2,000 m. long—Normand Island—presently divided the river into two great channels, the north-easterly one of which we followed, finding more fearsome rapids and strong eddies, which knocked the canoe and us about in a dangerous manner.

I was greatly concerned in going down all those rapids, as the canoe was now in a pitiable condition. We had no way of repairing her, and I was afraid that, with the strain of the terrific current, if we had banged too hard against a rock, she might have split in two. I was not so anxious for myself as I was for my men, who would certainly have been drowned, as four of them could not swim. Also, after all the trouble I had taken to make valuable botanical collections and a unique collection of photographs, I was most anxious to bring them all back safely. I was particularly anxious to bring back to Europe the wonderful fossils I had collected on the Plateau of Matto Grosso, which I had long ago packed in one of the cases that were fortunately among the things saved from the previous disasters. My men had invariably grumbled at having[174] to carry that particular heavy box, when we had to unload the canoe and take the baggage on our heads or shoulders at the many rapids we had encountered. They had never once missed an occasion to remonstrate and swear at the absurdity of having to sweat to carry "those blessed stones," or "the devil's own stones," as they called them.

We had gone but a few thousand metres when we once more came to another great barrier, with two islands, stretching, like most of the others, from south-west to north-east. The only point at which we could take the canoe down was in the rapid in the very centre of the stream—a nasty-looking place, I can assure you—followed by a whirlpool of such proportions as would have frightened most humans. I must say for my men that they showed a great deal of courage that day. Whether it was because they did not quite realize the danger, or whether it was because they had got accustomed to it by then, I do not know; but the fact remains that when I ordered them to go down that terrifying place they obeyed without saying a word.

We had to exercise the greatest care, having to jump out on small rocks which stuck up in the middle of the rapid in order to arrest the almost uncontrollable speed of the canoe. Had they missed their footing while jumping on those rocks and holding the ropes attached to the canoe, the men would certainly have lost their lives, as it was out of the question to save anybody in those diabolical waters. Therefore, when you considered the terrific speed at which the canoe was travelling, and that the men must have known that a mistake in judging the distance would have meant utter de[175]struction, you could not but admire them for their really amazing self-confidence. On many occasions, indeed, I had to do the same thing myself, but I must say I never liked it much; although I was in a better position than they were, as I am a good swimmer—not that a swimmer would have much chance in those waters.

A number of islets were seen below the rapids and whirlpool. From that point we discerned on the right bank an elongated hill, 100 ft. high. Slightly beyond, preceded by a great mass of rock, was another island 200 m. long, dividing the stream in two. Two other islands, one 700 m. long—Leda Island—the other one Medea Island, of greater length but much narrower, were disclosed behind it.

Then came another great barrier of rocks extending from south-west to north-east, and more rapids to be negotiated. A series of elongated islets and sand-banks occurred in the basin which followed, 1,300 m. wide. Beautiful sand-beaches had formed on either side of that lovely bay. The river then narrowed again to a width of 500 m., and we saw a long flat island of sand, 200 m. long and 50 m. wide, enclosed by rocks in the centre of the stream.

We continued our journey, after the usual halt for taking astronomical observations, and had before us a small hill 100 ft. high at bearings magnetic 300°.

We came to a series of most dangerous rapids with terrific whirlpools, especially after the first and second rapid. Another great barrier of rocks with huge boulders spread across the stream from south-west to north-east. An isolated hill was to be seen on the left bank where this barrier was found. A strange[176] coffin-shaped boulder of immense size was then reached on the right side of the stream, just after we had passed a delightful sand-spit 100 m. long enclosed within a stockade of pillar-like rocks.

From this point we had 4,000 m. of clear navigation to 280° b.m. It seemed heavenly to us to be in smooth waters again, and my men flattered themselves that we had now come to the end of the rapids altogether. But we soon arrived at innumerable rocks in a confused mass right across the stream, between which the river flowed with great force in a contracted neck. We passed between two islands, each 200 m. long, at the end of which was a rapid. An island 1,000 m. long was there formed—Bomfin Island. Dangerous rapids occurred half-way down its length on the right; then followed a mass of square columnar pillars of rock not unlike basalt. That was all very beautiful to look at, but we had endless trouble in extricating our canoe from among the numberless impedimenta which obstructed navigation.

At the August Falls.

Another most beautiful island, 520 m. long—Jessica Island—was passed just before getting to really formidable rapids, down which we had the greatest difficulty in letting the canoe, even by the judicious use of ropes. The navigable channel of the river—if navigable it could be called—swerved from north-west to due north. In a basin of immense size were a number of islands from 300 to 200 m. in length, and enormous boulders with cataracts of great height between. The roar made by the water falling over was so great that it resembled thunder. The difference of height between the top and the bottom of the rapid was not less than 10 ft.[177] The water in the channel we followed went over a great slope of lava above which numerous boulders had accumulated.

My men became perplexed when they saw the formidable rush of water, but before we had time to do anything we were swept away at such a speed that for one moment I really believed we were lost. My men laughed hysterically, and in that laugh I joined when we came out at the other end still alive. We had shaved several rocks so closely that great patches of the stopping in the side of the canoe had been torn off altogether, and we were filling fast with water.

Our merriment did not last long, for in a few moments we had drifted on to another and worse rapid, much more terrific than the one we had just gone over. We just managed to hold the canoe on the upper edge of the foaming stream, trying to get the ropes ready in order to let her down. We were in mid stream, not less than 200 m. away from the right bank. We unloaded a portion of the baggage on the rocks and proceeded to let the canoe down with ropes—a most dangerous job in that particular rapid, because at the end of the rush of water stood up many rocks, which drove the water back again and eventually switched it off, curling over itself at a very sharp angle on one side and on the other. A diabolic-looking whirlpool of great depth formed on the other side of those rocks.

I fully realized that the strength of us seven men was hardly sufficient to hold the canoe, particularly as all of us were immersed waist-deep and could scarcely keep our footing in that great rush of water. It was only with the greatest care that we could possibly[178] accomplish the feat, and of this I warned my men. In fact, the moment the canoe came down at an angle on the steep incline she gave such a mighty jerk that my men, with the exception of Alcides, let go the ropes. Some of them had the skin taken clean off their fingers. I saw the canoe give a great leap. To my horror, a moment after the canoe had passed me down the rapid—I was holding one of the ropes at the lower part of the rapid—I saw Alcides, who bravely had never let the rope go, being carried away in the current. I just managed to grab him as he was about to be drawn into the vortex, where most certainly he would have lost his life. I lost my footing too, and we were both thrown against a rock, which I grabbed with one hand while still holding on to Alcides. There we remained powerless for several minutes, swallowing a good deal of water, which went right over our heads with the resistance we made against the current, until Filippe the negro—with wonderful courage, since he was no swimmer—came to our rescue.

Alcides was undoubtedly a brave man, but he certainly had a beastly temper. No sooner had he recovered from the accident than I heard some of the other men tell him that he had had a narrow escape and would have died had I not gone to his rescue. Shouting aloud so that I could hear his remark, he said to the men: "Oh, the Englishman only came to my rescue because there was no danger for him, as he could swim, or else he would not have done it."

Author and his Men in Water up to their Necks for an Entire Night endeavouring to save their Canoe, which in shooting a Rapid had become stuck between Rocks.

There was no time to lose, and certainly no time for argument. The canoe had most unluckily got stuck at the bottom of the rapid between two rocks, her fore-[179]part being absolutely submerged. The vibration was such in the after-portion which stuck out of the water that I thought any moment she might break in two.

All my men behaved that day with marvellous courage—particularly Filippe, who, much delighted by the words of praise I gave him when he risked his life in coming to our rescue, now offered to risk his life once more in endeavouring to seize one of the ropes which had got loose and was dangling from the canoe in the foaming waters. We tied Filippe with a rope which we removed from one of the packing-cases we had previously landed, and let him down the rapid until he was thrown violently against the canoe. There the plucky fellow was able to get inside and recover the ropes, which he, after repeated attempts, flung on to us. We pulled and pulled for several hours, but the canoe was so jammed between the rocks, and the current was so strong, that we were not able to get her off.

Night had come on, and we were still waist-deep in the water and trembling with cold, trying to save the canoe. She would not move in any direction. It was with some concern that I had seen several articles which had been loose in the canoe being washed out into the water and disappearing in the whirlpool. Then came a worse accident still. While trying to unload two heavy cases of provisions—a ticklish job—the men lost their footing in the current and one after the other the packing-cases also disappeared in the whirlpool.

All these disasters following one another within a few hours were rather trying to us, the loss of the provisions particularly giving me a great shock, as I[180] realized now that we had practically nothing else left to eat except what we could find by shooting or fishing.

When the canoe had been made lighter we succeeded by constantly jerking her in moving her slightly, and eventually, at two o'clock in the morning—the accident having occurred at half-past four in the afternoon—we were able to release her and bring her to safety along the bank.

A great hole had been opened in the side of the canoe where she had struck the rock, and we had to beach her in order to keep her afloat till the morning. Then came the heavy task of taking all the baggage from the rocks in the centre of the stream along the great barrier of sharp cutting stones as far as the bank.

The Salto Augusto from Above.

We were prostrate with fatigue when we had accomplished all the work. I lay down on the ground to rest; my men fortunately had saved their hammocks, as they were the first things they always took care to save whenever there was a calamity. Not once during the whole journey did my men offer me one of their hammocks when they saw me sleeping with great discomfort on packing-cases or on the ground. Certainly I was too proud to ask them for any favour.

I had hardly gone to sleep when I thought I heard a curious noise by my side, as of something dragging along the ground. I immediately jumped up, and saw a huge snake some 20 ft. long inquisitively looking at me, only half a metre away. I do not know which of us two was more surprised. The snake with sinuous grace moved away from me with gradually accelerated speed, and, passing right under the hammocks of my men, disappeared in the forest behind.

[181] Taking all things into consideration, that was a night worth remembering. What was worst of all was the fact that, with the excitement and the fatigue, I had forgotten to wind the chronometer at the usual hour of seven o'clock in the evening, and when I woke up startled in the morning, remembering the fact, I found the chronometer had stopped altogether. That was the greatest blow of all, after all the trouble I had taken to keep the Greenwich mean time for my observations of longitude. The mishap was not irreparable, as I got the time fairly accurately by using the previous observations at local noon and working out the difference with Greenwich mean time.

So many had been the obstacles we had found that day that, before reaching the rapid where we had the disaster, we had made a progress of 39 kil. 500 m.—poor work indeed as compared to the wonderful distances we had been able to cover on the first days of our navigation of the Arinos River. Considering all, however, it was really marvellous that we could cover even that distance, short as it was.

[182]

## CHAPTER XII

A Tiny Globular Cloudlet warning us—Tossed in a Merciless Manner—Saved by Providence—Vicious Waters—A Diabolical Spot—A Highly Dangerous Crossing—A Terrible Channel—More Bad Rapids—On the Verge of a Fatal Drop down a Waterfall—Saved in Time—A Magnificent Sight—The August Falls—A Mutiny—The Canoe, weighing 2,000 lb., taken across the Forest over a Hill-range

The thermometer that night, July 30th, showed a minimum of 63° F. We repaired the large hole (about 1 ft. in diameter) in the side of the canoe by stuffing it with a pair of my pyjamas, while one or two shirts which I still had left were torn to shreds in order to fill up the huge crack which went from one end of the canoe almost to the other, and which had become opened again in scraping rocks in the rapid.

We did not leave that camp until 11 o'clock a.m. An isolated hill was visible on the left bank. We had gone some 3,000 m. when we came to another fairly strong rapid. My men were quarrelling among themselves. Alcides, who was fond of gesticulating on such occasions, let the steering gear go in order to give more force to his words by waving his hands in the air, regardless of the danger which was in front of us, with the result that the canoe turned a pirouette upon herself and down the rapid we went backwards.

The river flowed from that place in an easterly[183] direction for some 3,000 m., where a great basin was formed, strewn with rocks and islets and having two large islands in its eastern part. The basin in its widest part had a width of 2,000 m. Then from that point the river went to 50° b.m. for a distance of 6,000 m. A strong north-easterly wind was blowing against us, keeping us back and making our work unduly hard. Great waves tossed us about and made my men seasick, while we got splashed incessantly, the moisture we absorbed being each time quickly evaporated by the fierce wind. We felt cold and shivery and not particularly happy after the experience of the previous night.

Benedicto, who had been entrusted during the journey with the baling out of the canoe, was beginning to find his job too much for him—a job which he had volunteered to do at first when the canoe was not leaking. He now said he wanted to paddle and not bale out the water any more. Although we used a big bucket for that purpose, Benedicto had all his work cut out for him in keeping the canoe only half full of water.

Several times I remonstrated with him that day, as while I was sitting behind him with the wind blowing hard, he flung most of the water on me instead of back into the stream.

I had observed for the last few days a little globular white cloudlet to the north, just above the horizon. Every day that cloudlet was to be seen in the very same position, where it remained motionless most of the day upon the otherwise beautifully clear blue sky. That was an indication to me that we must be nearing a[184] great fall of water or an immense rapid, which caused the evaporation of the water to produce it.

Many were the islands we passed that day, some as much as 800 m. in length. One island, particularly, was picturesque to a degree, with an impressive crown of rock on its westerly side. The river was there some 2,000 m. wide—perhaps even more, as I could not quite see how far the bank was to the left of us owing to some islands which stood in the way.

A barrier of islands describing a crescent then stood before us, the largest island of that group being 800 m. wide and several kilometres long—Belinda Island. I did not measure the exact length of this island, as we got into great trouble there in some strong rapids, and I had to leave my notebooks for a moment in order to assist poor Benedicto in baling out the water so that we could keep afloat.

When our course turned to 10° b.m. we came into full view of a high range to the north of us which spread from north-west to south-east. The river had cut its way right through it. We reached a great basin again, 2,000 m. broad like its predecessor, with four beautiful islands abreast, and a number of other islands varying from 100 to 500 m. in length behind them, in the centre, while rocks innumerable were scattered about. There was a rapid once more, with a nasty succession of strong whirlpools formed by the deviation of the swift waters encountering the many rocks.

The Upper Terrace of the August Waterfall.

Beyond the rapids we got a full view of the range before us, which extended from 90° b.m. to 320°. We had hardly recovered from negotiating those eddies when we were confronted by yet another strong rapid,[185] impossible to navigate, where we had to let the canoe down by means of ropes.

The river here was most picturesque, in great straight stretches from 3,000 to 9,000 m. in length. Some 4,000 m. farther down we came to a very bad rapid. My men were extremely tired of unloading and reloading the canoe all the time with the heavy baggage which still remained. They became most ill-tempered when this new rapid appeared before us, blaming me, as it were, for the rapid being there. I told them that if they did not care to unload all they had to do was to shoot the rapid. They quarrelled among themselves. When we got near it my men became terrified. Alcides, who was at the steering gear, mentioned the fact that we should all be drowned in a few moments. He became perplexed when we entered the rapid, which tossed the canoe about in a merciless manner. In one place, where the water, driven through with great force along a narrow channel, formed a central wave of great height, the canoe stood up almost vertically on her stern. Baggage and men all slid down in a heap. The next thing I saw, when the canoe righted herself, was that we were going down the rapid sideways and at a really vertiginous pace. We managed to clear by a mere hair's-breadth two great rocks which stood in the way. Had we struck a rock on that particular occasion we certainly should have all been killed. As luck would have it, before we knew what was happening we were shot into the whirlpool under the rapid, and there we turned round upon ourselves three or four times before my men had recovered from the amazement of finding themselves still alive,[186] and had begun to paddle again after I had told them to do so for the twentieth time.

Filippe the negro exclaimed: "As long as we come with you, sir, we shall never be killed, but you let us go very near death sometimes!" Then they discussed among themselves, saying that I must have some particular mascotte which I carried upon my person and which prevented disaster.

The range which was before us to the north-west developed itself into a flat-topped hill mass about 500 ft. above the level of the river.

Another rapid, fairly violent, was reached some distance beyond, my men this time offering at once, of their own accord, to unload the canoe and take her down carefully with ropes. I pretended not to care, as I wanted to give them a lesson, and said we had better shoot it, as we had done the previous one.

"No, no, no, no!" they all said in a chorus; "there is such a thing as tempting Providence!"

As we got farther down I could perceive that the range extended much farther than I had seen earlier in the day; in fact, from the W.N.W. it spread as far as E.S.E.

Below the last rapid was an island of great beauty—Babin Island—2,000 m. long. The river beyond that island formed two arms, one on each side of a triangular island located in the opening formed in the hill range by the river, where another strong rapid—in fact, a regular small waterfall—was to be found.

It was very difficult to keep count of all the islands which we constantly passed—many elongated, others triangular, others rectangular, others of all kinds of[187] irregular shapes. In my note-books I endeavoured to map out the entire course of the river as well as I could, and I think that, considering the amount of other work I had to do and the difficulties encountered all the time, the map I made to the scale of one centimetre to a kilometre is as accurate as it could possibly be made with the means at my command. In places where I was uncertain I have left blanks in the map, and have not gone in for the usual method of certain geographers of filling up the space with all kinds of shadings in order to make it look pretty.

We had gone that day 46 kil., the current having been very strong all the time, which made up for the loss of time in dealing with the many rapids.

I took altitude observations with the hypsometrical apparatus, water boiling at that spot at 210° 3½, the temperature of the air being 78° F. The minimum temperature during the night of July 30th was 63° F.

We began our journey the next morning by going down a bad rapid and across an awe-inspiring whirlpool. There again we had to lead the empty canoe down with ropes, and even so we had difficulty in getting her through safely.

We were in a region of immense volcanic domes composed of eroded rock, with many small perforations and large holes 2 or 3 ft. in diameter, highly polished inside as if they had been varnished. Those rocks were similar to those I had met in the higher part of the plateau of Matto Grosso. Some of the holes in the rock had been enlarged to a great extent by the water of the river revolving inside them.

[188] After we had passed the great whirlpool we found many curious mounds of sand 20 ft. high among great masses of lava and eruptive rock. Those mounds were formed by musical sand such as we had met before. We called it in this particular place "moaning sand," as instead of whistling as usual it produced a wailing sound like the cry of a hungry puppy.

On the right side of the stream we came to an important tributary 50 m. wide; 500 m. lower down another strong rapid was reached. I was greatly amused to see how my men now invariably pulled up the canoe when we perceived a rapid and unloaded her, carefully taking her down with ropes. One man, nevertheless, had to be in the canoe to steer her. Alcides always volunteered to take the job.

Interesting Geological Formation below the Salto Augusto.

Two hundred metres below this rapid the river turned a sharp corner. There we met one of the most dangerous rapids and whirlpool I have ever seen. It was quite awe-inspiring to look at those vicious waters, the water in the vortex being raised like a wall two or three feet higher than the greatest waves of the rapid by the force with which it revolved. The entire river—which, as we have seen, was in some places 2,000 m. wide—was now squeezed through a narrow cut in the hill range, two great arms of water joining directly above that spot. The water was naturally forced through that small opening at an incredible pace. The high vertical rocks at the side of the small channel which was there formed made it extremely difficult to take the canoe down by ropes, especially as the summit of those rocks was much cut up, and we, above, could not keep pace with the canoe as she floated swiftly[189] down the rapid. By fastening together a lot of ropes which we had removed from round the different packages we just managed to make them long enough to undertake the dangerous task.

The hill range, a section of which could be seen at that spot, clearly showed that it was made up of gigantic blocks piled on the top of one another up to a height of 100 ft. At high water the river level must reach—as was evident by the erosion and other signs upon those rocks—nearly to the summit of the range; in fact, when I climbed to the top I found plenty of débris among the rocks, undoubtedly left there by the stream. On the north side the range was made up entirely of gigantic slabs of lava some 15 ft. thick and lying at an angle of 60° with a dip northward. On the south side of the range I had found, instead, great boulders which had evidently travelled there and were much eroded. It can easily be understood that when the water rose it must be held up by the hill range, and form a big lake.

We wasted an entire day trying to find a way to take the canoe over the hills, as we did not dare risk sending her down by water. My men were positively disheartened and on the verge of revolt, as they contended that it was all my fault that I had taken them to a diabolical place like that. I plainly told them that if I gave them such high wages it was because I knew there was a great deal of risk, as I had explained to them at the beginning of the expedition, and I expected them to do some hard work in return.

"But," said the philosopher of the party, "what[190] is the use of money to us if after working hard for months and months we are going to be killed?"

I told them that that was not the moment to argue, but to act; if they followed my orders closely, perhaps we might all escape alive.

Alcides, who was certainly a hard worker, although not always in the right direction, had a nasty accident that day and cut his foot badly on the sharp rocks. He was practically incapacitated for work, as he could only stand on one leg, the other leg being contracted with the really ghastly injury.

This was ill-luck, as our strength combined was not sufficient for the work we had to do, and now the loss of one man—the best of my followers—was an extra trial at the most inopportune moment.

The canoe, too, was in a wretched condition after all the many accidents we had had, and we possessed no more tar, and could spare no more clothes, to stop up the leakages which were now plentiful all over her bottom.

The day of July 31st was thus absolutely lost. I was on the verge of abandoning the canoe there altogether and attempting to get down along the banks of the river on foot—which would have been almost suicidal, as we never could have reached a place of safety.

Night came. At sunset we had the usual concert of mosquitoes, all kinds of insects and frogs, in such innumerable quantities that the din made by them collectively was so loud as to resemble the sound of an iron foundry or a battle-ship in course of construction, the sounds produced by the millions of nocturnal singers[191] being quite metallic and reproducing exactly the sound of hammers driving rivets into the steel plates of a ship. Whether it was done purposely or accidentally I do not know, but those little water creatures of the Arinos seemed to keep excellent time, their vigour also being most enviable.

On August 1st we had a minimum temperature of 64° F. during the night.

I still saw that it was out of the question to endeavour to take the canoe over the immense boulders and over the hill range. One faint hope, involving very great danger, loomed in my mind. If we could only cross the river just above the fearsome channel we could perhaps on the other side take down the canoe by water. This plan required great smartness, as, had we miscalculated the speed of the river and the rate at which we could travel across that dangerous water, it would surely mean certain death.

I spoke to my men about it. They said they were ready to go. I explained to them that they must paddle their hardest and not give way for a second until we had got diagonally across the fairly still waters only a few yards above the awful channel. Should we by misfortune be dragged into that channel by the current we might as well say good-bye to the world.

When we started on that job we risked everything. My men behaved splendidly that day. They paddled and paddled for all they were worth, to get across the hundred metres or so, and took the best part of half an hour in the formidable current. For a moment, when the canoe was in the centre where the current was strongest and we were making no headway, I saw[192] a bad look-out for us. I urged them on with shouts of "Rema! rema!" (Row! row!) and at last, in a desperate effort, the canoe once more moved forward. It was a relief indeed when men and baggage were safely landed on the opposite side.

All were so exhausted that for a couple of hours it was out of the question to resume work. I occupied that time in taking observations for altitude and longitude, tortured to death as usual by the innumerable bees and piums. (Lat. 8° 54′·6 S.; long. 58° 51′ W.)

The temperature in the sun was 107° F. The red and black volcanic rocks radiated such heat that we were nearly stifled in the enclosed basin which was formed by the hill range.

In the afternoon we began with the second part of the dangerous task of endeavouring to take the canoe through the current in a north-easterly direction. The channel in that cut was 200 m. long and only 50 m. wide.

The rock was laminated in layers 6 ft. thick, which had been subsequently baked into a solid mass. The lower portion, of beautiful black and quite shiny, threw up by contrast the vivid red colour of the upper part.

The Salto Augusto (Upper Terrace).

We had an exciting time when we started the canoe with ropes down that rapid. We ran with bare feet upon the sharp broiling rocks. We could not possibly stand on them with our shoes on. We ran along for all we were worth, in order to prevent the canoe escaping. We climbed up and down great cuts from 10 to 30 ft. high in the rock, never letting go the ropes. Our[193] agility that day was remarkable. Even poor Alcides, whose foot I had wrapped up with a piece of my shirt, was coming along pluckily, regardless of the pain which he certainly suffered. Once or twice, when we remained slightly behind in that awful race, the canoe nearly pulled us into the water from our high point on the rocks some 30 to 50 ft. above.

Those 200 m. of channel seemed miles long to us. Eventually, the canoe was brought out safely at the other end. With bleeding feet and hands we returned once more to our point of departure in order to convey all our baggage upon our backs. After two or three journeys backwards and forwards we were able to proceed a short distance down the river, where we could find a suitable camping-place to rest our weary bones for the night.

On leaving the rapids the river took a direction of 310° b.m. There was a high hill to the east and another, equally high, to the west. The chain of hills seen from the north showed much erosion in the centre, where the rock was exposed underneath. On the south side the upper portion of the hill range consisted of a vertical rocky cliff in strata each 6 ft. thick.

Another cut, more unpleasant even than ours, had been made by the river in that same range to the north-east of that through which we had taken the canoe. An island of rock rose between those cuts.

A few hundred metres below the mouth of that ugly channel we found an extensive beach, on which we made our camp for the night. The minimum temperature during the night of August 2nd was 64° F.

When we landed the men were proceeding to cut[194] down the foliage on the edge of the forest, so as to be able to hang their hammocks, when they became greatly excited on discovering several nests of maribondos (hornets), graceful cones of a parchment-like material enclosing a number of superposed discs from one to three inches in diameter and about a quarter of an inch apart. Each disc had a perforation in order to let the dwellers in those little homes pass from one chamber to another from the highest of the cone down to the lowest in the apex.

When we left at 7.30 in the morning and had gone but 1,800 m., the river suddenly described a sharp angle and at that point went through a narrow neck. Afterwards it widened once more to an average breadth of 800 m., which it kept for a distance of 3 kil. in a straight line, the channel being there quite clear of rocks and the water beautifully smooth.

The river was indeed lovely in that part. I had a little more time there to look round at the scenery on either side of us. I noticed that rubber was still to be found, but in small quantities in that region. Rubber trees were only to be seen every now and then. Looking back to the south and south-west on the range of hills we had left behind, I could see that it extended far to the north-west. The highest part of it, however, seemed to be near the point where we had negotiated the dangerous rapid.

We had gone no more than 9,600 m., when we came to another bad rapid over a barrier of rock across the river from north-east to south-west. A tributary 10 m. wide at the mouth occurred on the right just before this rapid. Beautiful trees of great height, with yellow[195] ball-like blooms, enlivened the scenery as we went along. We had little time to appreciate the beauty of the vegetation—we were too busy with the river. No sooner had we got through one rapid than we came to another alarming one, with a sudden drop of over 6 ft. and enormous volumes of water pouring over it.

This rapid described an arc of a circle, forming an awe-inspiring whirlpool below the actual fall. We had some trouble in finding a place where we could get the canoe through. Eventually, with water up to our necks, we let her gradually down the high step in the middle of the river, we standing with great difficulty on submerged rocks. We had then to make several journeys backwards and forwards to convey the various loads to the canoe after we had brought her to a place of safety, our baggage having been left on rocks in mid-stream. This was extremely risky work, for the current was powerful and the water reached in some places up to our necks. I was anxious for the men who could not swim, as I was afraid any moment they might be washed away, and not only should I lose them but also the valuable instruments, photographic plates, etc., which they were conveying across.

Again that day I had seen since the early morning our friend the little white solitary cloudlet, standing out motionless against the otherwise speckless blue sky. Not only that, but on that particular day I could just perceive, directly under that cloudlet, a faint column of white mist connecting it vertically with the ground. I knew by that sign that we could not be far off a big waterfall; in fact, I could hear a distant rumble which[196] made me suspect that we were much nearer than we supposed.

The river was flowing to 70° b.m. Two other rapids—most violent—were reached within a short distance of each other; then, shortly beyond these obstacles, where the river described a graceful turn, we had before us a great surprise. We heard a loud roar like thunder; it had been getting louder and louder, and grew quite deafening when we turned round the corner. Behold! we had no more scenery upon the horizon before us on the river, but the sky came right down to the water. Great clouds of mist rose up in quick succession in graceful circles. There was an island in the centre of the stream; then to the left of the island the sky again came right down to the water. There a curious effect was to be seen, a high pointed cone of water shooting up skyward with terrific force, then rolling upon itself only to give way to another cone of water succeeding it.

Foliated Rock below the August Falls.

My men were terrified when they suddenly realized the danger which was only a few hundred metres in front of us. There was a mighty waterfall. When my men got excited it was generally troublesome, because they always disagreed and started quarrelling and insulting one another. Some of them wanted to land at once, for fear of being dragged down the fall. Alcides—who wanted to show his bravery on all occasions—said there was no danger at all and we could go in the canoe right as far as the edge of the fall. The others naturally got somewhat scared at so foolhardy a project. Personally I did not like to say a word in the matter, for fear they should think that I[197] was afraid. I saw with some concern that Alcides—whose mind, I believe, was not quite right owing to the hardships we had endured of late—was steering us right for the centre of the waterfall. I told him that it would be preferable to land on the edge of the waterfall rather than go over it, as it was a little too high for the canoe to tumble over. I calculated the height of the fall from 40 to 50 ft., and I was not far wrong, for when I took accurate measurements I found the actual height was 48 ft.

We were beginning to drift very speedily with the current, when Alcides, realizing the danger, steered us toward the right bank. The men paddled for their lives so as to land as quickly as possible, as we were now less than a hundred metres from the portentous jump. The current was terrific, and the canoe was floating sideways nearer and nearer the awful chasm. The coast line on the right, was almost vertical, and there was no place where we could hold on to anything and land. So down floated the canoe, my men horror-stricken. Once or twice they were able to seize a creeping vine hanging down the steep bank, endeavouring to stop the canoe's headlong career. But the creepers gave way and crashed down upon us, nearly turning over the canoe at the moment just before they snapped.

So down, down we went, until we were now only a few metres from the fatal drop, and I saw no way of arresting the canoe.

"Estamos perdidos!" (We are lost!) shouted the men.

"Not yet! not yet!" I exclaimed, as I perceived two rocks just sticking out of the water. "Make for[198] the rocks!" I shouted to Alcides, and just as we shaved past them I jumped quickly on one of the rocks, holding the canoe, while two of the men also jumped out quickly and held fast to the boat—just in time. We were only 10 or 15 m. from the place where the water curled over and rolled down the fall.

There was no time for arguing or scolding. Upon those rocks my men, who were fond of talking, started a brisk war of words, saying that they would never continue the journey if Alcides were allowed to steer again. Alcides, on the other hand, whose only aim in life was to fight everybody and everything, invited all the other men to a duel with their rifles. I told them they could have the duel after we had finished the journey and not before. We must take the ropes, climb up to the top of the bank, and, first of all, we must tow the canoe back to a place of safety.

After a great deal of shouting, angry words and oaths, absolutely deadened by the thundering roar of the waterfall, they took out the ropes and eventually towed the canoe back. As soon as that was done I went with my camera to gaze at the beautiful sight and photograph it from different points—a job which was not easy, as the waterfall was so encased between vertical rocky walls (foliated in horizontal strata, which varied in thickness from a quarter of an inch to one foot) that it was impossible to get far enough back to obtain a full view of it.

That fall, called the August Fall, was indeed a grand sight. As I have already said, it was divided into two separate falls, between which was an island with a great spur of rock forming a wall between the[199] two cascades. The water flowed over that wall in graceful steps. The fall on the right side of which I stood was in two immense horseshoe-shaped terraces. The continuation of those terraces on each side of the great flow of water formed tiers of red and black volcanic rock lying in horizontal strata so regular as to be not unlike a gigantic Etruscan amphitheatre. The upper tier of the fall on the right formed an arc not less than 300 m. in periphery. The lower crescent formed an arc 400 m. in length.

Upon this lower terrace the rebounding waters were thrown up with great force into the air—the spray forming numerous rainbows in the sun—only to drop down once more in most contorted, diabolical curves, boiling and roaring in their endeavour to force their way through that positive inferno.

As the water came down in great volumes over those two crescents it met once more in the centre in a mighty clash, being flung up at a tremendous height in the air. I do not know that I have ever seen such a fearsome sight, or that I have ever seen water rush with such force anywhere before. It seemed a pity that there was no one to harness that waterfall and use the enormous power it could generate.

On the left side of the river also the waterfall made an amphitheatre of rock somewhat smaller than the right fall. Down below, at the foot of this, it formed huge masses of white foam, above which profuse spray rose up like a heavy mist. Just beyond was disclosed a diabolical whirlpool, far beyond words to describe, which extended—as white as snow with the amount of foam it carried, twisting and retwisting in a thousand[200] circles on the surface—for over 500 m. from the lower step of the waterfall.

I measured the height of the fall with a string. The exact height of the upper terrace was 6 m. 90 cm.; the height of the lower terrace, 7 m. 73 cm.—or a total height of 14 m. 63 cm.

I also took the differential height with the several aneroids I possessed, and the elevation with the boiling-point thermometers above the fall and below, with a result of 48 ft. for the actual height of the fall.

The Wooden Railway constructed by Author in order to take the Canoe Overland for Two and a Half Kilometres at the August Falls.

Formation of Rock below the August Falls.

One fact was certain, and that was that the canoe could not possibly go down by water. There was only one way to get out of that difficulty; that was by taking the canoe overland until we could find a navigable spot in the river down below. To make things worse, there was a hill range on the right bank of the river, on which we were. I must find a way to make the canoe go over that hill range—that was all.

The canoe, I might remind the reader, was 42 ft. long and 3½ ft. wide, of heavy solid wood, her bottom being over a foot thick, her sides from 3 to 5 in. in thickness, her stern and prow, roughly carved out, of great thickness also. I calculated her weight at over 2,000 lb., which was well under her actual weight.

I spoke to my men, and told them that we must take the canoe over the hill range. They had been very morose since our arrival at that spot, as they expected me to give ourselves up for lost when we came to what they believed to be an insuperable obstacle. They mutinied at once and took to their rifles, saying that they would not follow a lunatic any farther, a man who asked them to take a canoe over a hill.

[201] "Do you not know," said one of them to me, with a fierce grin of contempt upon his face, "that canoes are made for the water and not to travel over mountains?"

"Do you not know," shouted Alcides, shaking his fist, "that it would take a hundred strong men to lift that canoe one inch above the water?—and we, including you, are only seven men, tired and worn.... You believe that because you are English you can do what you like. You will next ask the moon to come and row in our canoe so that we may get along! You have gone insane."

"Yes, he is mad!" they all said in a chorus. "We want the balance of our pay and we will leave you at once. Give us our money and we will go—we want to go."

I told them that they could have their money as soon as the canoe had gone over the hill and down the other side, and certainly not before. They could shoot me if they liked, but that would not help them very much, as I knew the way to get on and they did not. If they shot me they would perhaps die of starvation themselves soon. I agreed that it was a beautiful spot to die in, and perhaps they could hasten their departure by jumping into the fall, and thus end all the hardships, and, at least, arguments.

After those words, which I had spoken with gentleness, I turned, and—for the first time since they had been with me—in a stern tone of voice I ordered Filippe and Antonio to take their big knives and proceed to cut down ten or twelve of the straightest trees they could find. They refused. I quietly walked to[202] the rifle which I generally used for shooting game, and inserted in it a clip of five cartridges. I cocked the rifle, and, placing my watch before me on a stone, gave the men five minutes to decide whether they would cut the trees or be shot. I also said that if any of them moved their rifles they would have a bullet put through them.

Filippe and Antonio dropped their rifles on the ground, reluctantly took the knives and walked away, I pointing out to them the tall trees which I wanted cut. I then ordered Alcides to take one of the axes and cut thirty rollers, each about 5 ft. long. The men were silent and yellow-faced with rage.

The trees in that region were easily cut down. After a few minutes down came a tree with a crash, and shortly after another. I walked to the men and patted them on the back, assuring them again that if they obeyed my orders we should soon proceed on our journey and should certainly arrive safely at a point where they could return home and be happy.

Alcides thereupon turned round asking me whether I intended them to cut down the entire forest and then request them to pierce a tunnel through the hill range—or perhaps I might want the whole hill range flattened down for my convenience!

I paid no attention, but ordered him to cut sixty rollers instead of thirty. I had to keep a sharp watch on my men that day, and I had fully decided, if any disobedience took place, I would shoot them. I think they thoroughly realized that, because they carried out all my instructions to the letter.

When that job was done I explored the district[203] carefully, in order to discover which was the easiest point over which the canoe could be made to climb the hill range. Having found a way which I thought suitable, I myself took one of the large knives, and ordered the other men to come with me with all the implements we could use in order to clear a sufficiently wide road through which the canoe could pass. This work lasted many hours, and was certainly trying.

On August 3rd we worked the entire day, from sunrise until seven in the evening, cutting a way through the forest. Then, when we had done that, I constructed, with the longer trees we had cut down, a small railway from the water, where the canoe was. I used the rollers on these rails made of the smoothest trees I could find. When my men grasped the idea—of which they had never dreamed—they became very excited and in a good humour. They worked extremely hard. It was a portentous effort to get the canoe on to the first roller, but once we had got her on the first and second and third rollers, and were able to lift her stern out of the water with levers and pieces of wood we gradually placed under her, she began to move along on the rollers with comparative ease. We moved the rails in front as we went along, and all went well until we got to the foot of the hill.

There the trouble began: first of all because it was difficult to keep the rollers in position on the rails; then also because the moment we started to push the canoe up the hill she would slide back almost as far as, and sometimes farther than, we had pushed her up. By a judicious use of ropes which we made fast to trees on either side, and by a careful study of[204] the laws of leverage, we managed to push up the canoe a few inches at a time. We had some narrow escapes once or twice, when the ropes, under the excessive strain, snapped, and the canoe slid down again, dragging us with her. One tree, to which one of the ropes was fastened, broke, and in its fall just missed killing a man.

When once we had begun pushing the canoe up that hill we could not leave her for a moment, as she would at once proceed to slide back on the rollers.

Fourteen hours' incessant hard work saw us and the canoe on the top of the hill. From there we had before us a very steep descent of some 400 ft., the first 150 ft. almost vertical.

My men all looked at me in a most inquisitive way in order to find out how I should manage to hold the canoe when we let her down that steep incline.

I had fastened some pieces of wood vertically at her stern, which, by scraping on the ground, would hold her to a certain extent. Then, with all the ropes we possessed we made her fast to the trees as we went along, and let her slide gently, the weight of the canoe being such that deep grooves were actually cut into the trees as the ropes unwound themselves.

Photograph showing the Road cut by Author across the Forest in order to take the Heavy Canoe Overland.

We were only half-way down that incline when one tree broke. The canoe gave a leap on one side, knocking down Antonio and the man X, the jerk immediately after breaking another tree on the opposite side. Off went the canoe down the hill in her mad career, knocking some of us down, dragging the others, who were holding on to her. Two or three men were[205] badly thrown about, but fortunately no broken bones were recorded. The canoe by that time had, in great leaps, reached nearly the bottom of the hill, but had got so jammed between a rock and a big tree that it required several hours' hard work with our axes and knives in order to disentangle her.

The shock, however, had been too great for the rickety canoe. I became anxious, for I feared she might split in two at any time, and I had no way of repairing her properly. When we got to the water again I patched her up as best I could with improvised nails which I made from pieces of hard wood. With great yells of excitement from my men we launched her once more in the river.

My men boasted how clever they had been to take the heavy canoe over the hill. There was really nothing Brazilians could not do when they wished!

Those forty hours of steady hard work out of the forty-eight hours we had stopped at the falls had seen us over that obstacle, and we were now ready to proceed once more by water.

We had suffered a great deal during those terrible hours from the bees, mosquitoes, hornets, piums, ants, and all kinds of other insects which stung us all over. A glance at the photographs which illustrate this volume, of the canoe being taken across the forest, will show all my men—I, naturally, not appearing, as I was taking the photographs—with their heads wrapped up in towels, notwithstanding the great heat, in order to avoid the unbearable torture as much as possible.

The minimum temperature during the night of August 3rd had been 61° F.; during the night of[206] August 4th 72° F. During the day the temperature was 88° F. in the shade, but the air was quite stifling, as the sky was overcast with heavy clouds.

I took careful observations for latitude and longitude in order to fix exactly the position of the great falls. The latitude was 8° 51′·1 S.; the longitude 58° 50′ W.

The whirlpool and eddies which extended for 1,000 m. below the great fall were formidable. Never in my life have I seen waters so diabolical. They filled one absolutely with terror as one looked at them.

The river flowed there to bearings magnetic 120°; then to 140° b.m. for 3,000 m., where it was comparatively smooth. To the south-east of us was a hill range fully 600 ft. high. What appeared to me to be a small tributary seemed to enter the river on the left, but my men were so tired that I did not cross over to the other side in order to make certain. On looking behind us I could see that the hill range at the fall extended from north-west to south-east, while another smaller hill range, only 250 ft. above the level of the river, stretched from north to south on the left of the stream. The river was 300 m. wide.

We went no more than 9,200 m. that day.

[207]

## CHAPTER XIII

A Double Whirlpool—Incessant Rapids of Great Magnitude—A Dangerous Channel—Nothing to Eat—Another Disaster

We had halted on a lovely island—Adelaide Island—with a rocky and sandy extension. The night of August 5th had been stifling, with a minimum temperature of 72° F.

I found my work too much for me now. There was too much to observe on all sides. We were travelling quickly with the swift current. A hill range from east to west, 300 ft. high, ran along the left bank. Farther, where the river went to the north-east for 4,000 m., laminated rock like slate showed through the left bank, especially in a semicircular indentation which had been eroded by the water. There a strong whirlpool had formed. Another great stretch of river, 5,500 m., was now before us, with a small hill 80 ft. high on the right bank. The river next formed a circular basin with three islets and a barrier 500 m. across.

We were now in a region where, fortunately for us, castanheiro trees (vulgo. the "Para chestnut") were to be found. Fish was scarce in the river. Now that we had almost superhuman work to accomplish, our meals were extremely scanty owing to the loss[208] of our provisions, and we had not sufficient food to keep up our strength.

As we went on I saw to the north-east of us another hill-range 300 ft. high, extending from north-west to south-east, like most of the ranges found in that region. Where a prominent headland stood on the left side, with a hill 250 ft. high upon it, the river turned to 30° b.m. The hill was made up of foliated rock lying in strata that varied from one inch to one foot in thickness.

On the right side of the stream great cubic blocks of rock rested on the polished curves of a huge dome of granite. A quantity of débris stretched from south to north right across the basin, and caused a deviation in the stream.

Conveying the Canoe across the Forest on an Improvised Railway and Rollers.

A terrific rapid with a sheer drop of 3 ft. was situated here. A double whirlpool of great magnitude was formed at the bottom of the rapid, the water revolving with such force that the concavity was gradually depressed for some 3 ft. and had a great hole in each centre. We shot that rapid. As Alcides on that occasion followed my instructions, the canoe shot past between the two whirlpools, and although even then she nearly capsized, we were able to continue, my men shrieking with merriment at what they now believed to be their invulnerability. We dodged the unpleasant eddies while we floated with great speed in the strong current.

The river, which had contracted that day to 250 m., now expanded once more into a large basin 1,200 m. wide and 1,800 m. long, with most troublesome eddies as we went through it. The river described a great turn from N.N.E. to 180° b.m. or due south.

[209] To add to the pleasures of our existence, we came in for a heavy rain-storm that day, with deafening thunder and blinding lightning. Notwithstanding the great discomfort it caused us, it pleased me very much because of the wonderful effects of light it produced on the river.

Where the stream, in a course which had wriggled like a snake, turned once more due north to 360° b.m., it divided itself into two small channels. High waves were produced where the water, pushed by the wind, was forced against the rapid. There was a good drop in the level of the river at that rapid, and it was a nasty place indeed for us to go through. We got tossed about, splashed all over, but we came out of it all the same, amid the wildly excited yells of my men. They were beginning to think that they were the greatest navigators that had ever lived, and they never let an opportunity pass of reminding each other of that fact.

I halted in the middle of the day to take the usual observations for latitude and longitude (lat. 8° 47′·5 S.; long. 58° 39′ W.), but I was interrupted in my work by another heavy rain-storm, which came and drenched us once more. After that dense clouds as black as ink covered the entire sky for the whole afternoon. We were now in the rainy season. Terrific gusts preceded these rain-storms, and were most troublesome to us.

After negotiating the bad rapids, the river went through a basin of boulders of broken foliated rock. There were three small channels. Then beyond, the entire river was forced through a rocky channel from 35 to 40 m. wide, the water rushing through with[210] incredible force on a steep gradient until half-way down the channel, where it actually ran uphill for 50 m. or so, so great was the impetus it had received on its rapid descent to that point.

You can well imagine what a pleasant job it was for us to convey the canoe along with ropes over so delightful a spot. Owing to our insufficient food, our strength had greatly diminished. The ropes we had used on the many rapids were now half-rotted and tied up in innumerable knots. Moreover, the banks of sharp cutting rock were of great height, and our ropes were not long enough to be used separately, so that we decided to use only one long rope made up of all the ropes we possessed tied together. To make matters more difficult, the channel was not perfectly straight, but described two or three sharp corners, where the water was thrown with much vigour in one direction, then, being driven off immediately at a different angle, curled over itself, producing mountains of foaming water forty or fifty feet in height, and leaving great depressions near the inner corner.

We cut down some long poles, and I placed one man with a big pole on guard at each corner close to the water, in order to push the canoe away toward the middle of the stream in case she came too near those dangerous points.

That channel was some 600 m. long. When we were ready we let the canoe go, all spare hands holding fast to the rope, running and scrambling up and down and along the high rocky cliff, the canoe giving us violent jerks when the direction of the current was changed. With much alarm we saw her spring up in[211] the air like a flying-fish on one or two occasions. We ran along like mad, out of breath and sweating, trying to keep ahead of the canoe. The two men with poles also ran along after the danger points were passed, so as to shove her along when she came too near other dangerous rocks.

After a race of great excitement, we all, with bleeding feet and hands—the palms of our hands actually blistered by the rope which slid through our tightly closed fists—were eventually able to pull the canoe safely on shore below the rapid.

In that mad flight I found time to pull out the camera for one second and take a snapshot of the canoe in the middle of the rapid. The photograph is reproduced among the illustrations of this volume.

My men were so tired that it was impossible to go on. Moreover we had before us the second section of that formidable rapid, and we could not negotiate this without emptying the canoe, which was full of water, and readjusting the rope.

We spent the night of August 6th on those rocks, the minimum temperature being 63° F.

When we went on with our dangerous work the next morning we had the greatest difficulty in saving the canoe, as in entering the whirlpool she was swamped, and it was all we could do to pull her back towards the bank before she foundered altogether. The actual drop in that rapid was not less than 8 ft. vertically. We just managed to rest her on a submerged rock until we were able to bale some of the water out.

That canoe was really wonderful in a way. My men patted her on the prow as if she had been an[212] animal, and said she was a good canoe. Indeed she was, but in her old age she felt the strain of that exciting journey. Every time I looked at her I did not know how much longer she might last. Whatever may be said of them, my men must be given credit for their courage in going along in that canoe. I do not believe that there are six other men in Brazil—or perhaps in any other country—who would have ventured to go across even the most placid pond in a similar craft.

After the rapids came a great basin 1,000 m. long, 800 m. wide. There the river described an angle from 20° b.m. to 45° b.m., and we perceived two parallel ranges before us to the N.N.E., the farther one much higher than the one nearer. Some 5 kil. beyond was yet another rapid, but not so troublesome a one this time. The river there diverged from north-east to a direction due west. A hill range, from 150 to 250 ft. high, extended from W.S.W. to E.N.E. An isolated hill, 300 ft. high, could be seen to the E.N.E.

We suffered agony that day from regular clouds of borrachudos, terrible little sand mosquitoes which made life an absolute burden in that region. Our faces, arms, and legs were a mass of ink-black marks left by the stings of those vicious brutes. Particularly when our hands were occupied in holding the canoe going down rapids, or busy with dangerous jobs, did swarms of those little rascals attack us with indomitable fury.

Pushing the Canoe Uphill through the Forest.

(Notice men with heads wrapped owing to torturing insects.)

Another basin was met, 700 m. wide, quite shallow, and with rapids over a barrier of rock extending across it from south-west to north-east. That barrier was most interesting, because in many places great lava-[213]flows were visible; in other places masses of ferruginous rock could be observed, with most extraordinary patterns upon them—triangles, rectangles, trapeziums, and all kinds of other angular geometrical patterns, such as we had met before on the high plateau of Matto Grosso.

We stopped in the middle of the day on an island 1,200 m. long, from which we obtained a fine view of the hill range looming before us from W.S.W. to E.N.E. on the right bank.

I was having great trouble with my chronometer, which the many jerks, falls, and baths did not seem to improve. I checked it whenever I could by observations of local time and by other watches which I carried. But all my instruments were beginning to feel the effects of that journey very much. The wonder to me was that they had got so far in as good condition as they were, considering all we had gone through.

Our lunch was speedy, as we had nothing to eat. The moment I had finished my observations for latitude and longitude we started off once more, my men keeping their eyes all the time on the forest on the look-out for nut-trees, the river that day giving us no fish at all.

Within ten minutes we had shot two powerful rapids, and in one place went over a dangerous submerged wall of rock extending across the river from E.S.E. to W.N.W.

The men—very hungry—were extremely quarrelsome that day and insulting to one another. The canoe went broadside down a rapid we met, the men gesticu[214]lating instead of paddling along as they should have done. With a great bump we stuck with a heavy list to starboard on a rock in the middle of the rapid, and presently the canoe was filled with water. Had we not stuck fast on that rock we certainly should have capsized. The water was baled out in due course, the canoe was floated once more. Soon afterwards another strong rapid, with a pedraria extending right across the stream from S.S.W. to N.N.E., gave us endless trouble.

I warned Alcides to get us alongside some rocks in order that we might let the canoe down with ropes, as the rapid, with a sheer drop of over 6 ft., looked too dangerous for us to shoot it. But Alcides was furious with the other men, and in order to punish them steered the canoe into the most dangerous part of the rapid. A second later the canoe, at an angle of 45°, was swept away down the foaming current along the slant of the rapid, which extended there for about 15 m. The channel was a most intricate one, with rocks scattered all over it, so that it was absolutely impossible for the canoe, with her great length, to go through without having an accident.

As we shaved a big rock in the middle of the rapid, and I saw the canoe steering straight for another big rock in front, I knew disaster was imminent, and leapt out on the rock. So frequently was it necessary for me to do so, that I had become quite an expert at jumping, and had acquired almost the agility of a monkey. Alcides, too, seeing the danger, also tried to follow my example, but unfortunately missed his footing and was swept away by the current. I just[215] managed to seize him before he disappeared for good, and dragged him safely on to the rock.

In the meantime the canoe had swung with great vigour and struck the big rock sideways, smashing her side and filling at once with water. All the baggage was swamped; only a portion of the canoe aft remained above the water, many of our things being washed away altogether.

There she stuck, fortunately for us. With considerable danger we managed to undo the ropes which were fastened to her stern. After several hours of hard work—and of extreme peril for the men who could not swim, as we had to work all the time with the water up to our necks in a powerful current, which made it most difficult to keep our footing—we succeeded in pulling her off and taking her alongside the bank.

That disaster was rather a serious one for us, as it injured many of my instruments, particularly the aneroids; but I considered myself fortunate in managing to save all the photographs and notebooks as well as the instruments for taking astronomical observations, which were kept in airtight cases. I lost my favourite pair of shoes, which were by my side in the canoe when I jumped out.

As it so frequently happened that we had to jump into the water—in fact, we spent more time in the water than out—I had adopted as a costume my pyjamas, under which I always wore the belt with the heavy packages of money. The paper money—a very considerable sum—had with the many baths become a solid mass. I could not well spread the banknotes[216] out in the sun to dry, as I did not wish my men to know how much I possessed; so that for many, many weeks I had around my waist those heavy leather wallets soaked in water, my natural heat not being quite sufficient to dry them.

We had worked in the stream until nearly midnight. We had nothing to eat when we had finished our work, and the result was that the next morning my men were still tired.

Two of my cameras were by my side when the canoe was swamped, one containing eighteen plates, the other twelve, all of which had been exposed. The cameras, being heavy, remained at the bottom of the canoe and were saved, but the bath did not do them good. I did not want to lose the plates, so there was only one course to follow, and that was to develop them while they were still wet. While my men slept I sat up a good portion of the night developing all those plates—quite successfully too—and trying to clean and fix up the cameras again for use the next day. One of my other cameras had been destroyed previously by one of my men, who sat on it, and of course smashed it to pieces. Another camera, which was still in excellent condition, having been in an air-tight case, was rather too big to be used for the work in going down the rapids.

During the night of August 7th the minimum temperature was 62° F.

Conveying the Canoe, weighing 2,000 lb., over a Hill Range—The Descent.

I worked the entire morning with Alcides, trying to mend the poor canoe. The hole which had been made in her side was so big that Alcides could insert his head into it with great ease. It was not until two[217] o'clock in the afternoon that we started once more. Along the river, which flowed in that particular section to the south-west, was a hill range on the north-west. The range rose 300 ft. above the level of the river. We had gone only some 2,000 m. when we came to another bad rapid stretching across the river from south-east to north-west. We were in a hilly region, hills being visible all along the stream. Soon afterwards we came to another powerful fall over a vertical rocky wall extending from north-west to south-east. Such redoubtable waves were produced there by the force of the water shooting over and then rebounding upwards, that we had to use the greatest care in letting down the unloaded canoe. At one moment she was more than two-thirds out of the water, only her stern resting on the top of the fall, the rest projecting outward in the air for some moments until she dropped down again.

Since the day we had taken the canoe over the hill range at the August Falls, I had doubled my men's salaries—although their original salaries were already many times higher than they would receive from Brazilian employers. I fully recognized that the work was hard, and I wished to encourage them in every possible way.

Next, the river went through a narrow gorge, only 80 m. wide, where the current was mighty strong. High volcanic rocks stood on the right side of us. When we emerged from the narrow neck, which measured some 500 m. in length, we found powerful whirlpools. Farther on the river once more went through a bad narrow passage, 40 to 60 m. wide, with a succession[218] of rapids—extremely unpleasant—for a length of 600 m.

My men were in great form that day, and we shot one rapid after another in fine style, Alcides—for a change—being amenable to reason and following my instructions, which carried us through that dangerous section without mishap. The stream Uruguatos entered the Arinos just above the latter rapids.

That day was indeed a trying one for us. Another narrow channel, 50 m. wide, was reached, along the 250 m. length of which we proceeded with great caution. Then a big basin spread out before us, where the current and eddies were terrific. The bottom of the river was mostly rocky, with great holes and depressions which caused the water to rotate in all directions. In some places amidst the foaming waters could be seen great circles of leaden-looking water, as still as oil. It was in a similar place in the Niagara whirlpool that the famous swimmer, Captain Webb, disappeared for ever. We saw thousands of those places on the Arinos.

The line of the banks on both sides was extremely rocky. In front of us we had a hill with extensive campos on its northerly slope. Then we came to the next rapid. We had endless trouble in this rapid, followed by a second one, practically a continuation of the first.

For 1,000 m. the navigation was extremely dangerous. We unloaded and reloaded the canoe dozens of times that day, although the work of taking the baggage over on our heads was not so troublesome now, as we had very little baggage left. But if we had not much, it was still the heaviest cases which re[219]mained. All together they weighed between five and six hundred pounds. The river ran beside a range of hills on the left side.

When we halted, exhausted, late at night we had travelled that day the meagre distance of 9,900 m.

My men killed two large spider monkeys, which supplied them with a meal. I could not touch them, as the monkeys looked too human for words. It made me positively ill to see one of my men biting with great gusto at an arm and hand which had been roasted on the flames, and which looked exactly like a portion of a human corpse. The smell, too, of the roasted monkeys was similar to the odour of roasted human beings—which I knew well, as I had on several previous occasions been at rough cremations of people in Japan, in the Himahlya (or Himalayas), and in Africa.

[220]

## CHAPTER XIV

In the Hands of Providence—A Mutiny—Another Mutiny—Foodless—Hard and Dangerous Work—A Near Approach to Hades—Making an Artificial Channel among Thousands of Boulders—An Awe-inspiring Scene—The Fall of S. Simão—A Revolt

We all slept soundly that night, I taking good care to fasten the canoe well, so that we should not find her gone next morning.

We had a minimum temperature of 63° F. on the night of August 8th.

In the morning my men killed another big monkey, with the most human face I have ever seen on a quadruman—just like a negro's countenance. It came very near us in its curiosity to see what we were doing, and, though shot at several times, remained there watching us, as it had never heard the report of a rifle before. When it fell down it put its hand on the wound across its chest and cried just like a child. I moved away while my men banged it on the head to finish it off.

Author's Canoe being made to travel across the Forest.

After a hearty breakfast on the part of my men—my own being limited to a small box of sardines, some twenty or thirty boxes still remaining in my supply of provisions—we resumed our journey down the troublesome rapid. We had to do that with ropes, Alcides, with his extraordinary way of thinking, actually going[221] to the trouble of shifting a big rock out of the water, which took him the best part of an hour, rather than let the canoe go round it—in absolutely placid waters in that particular spot. I let him do it rather than have a quarrel, as I firmly believed that in consequence of the great hardships his brain had slightly lost its balance.

After that, strong eddies were again experienced at first, but, for some 3,000 m. beyond, the water looked beautiful and as placid as possible. The river was now flowing mostly in a northerly direction or with slight deviations, chiefly to the east. We came to a most wonderful island with a spur of lava on its southern side, in the shape of a dome, and highly glazed. On each side of that island was a waterfall of some beauty. The eastern channel was only 20 m. wide, and the water fell over a wall of rock some 12 ft. high. Where this wall projected above the foaming water the shiny black carbonized rock showed a number of small grottoes in its horizontal strata, and a number of funnels like volcanic vents. The north-westerly and broader channel had three successive rapids, the central one some 10½ ft. high, with a terrific current rushing over it, and awe-inspiring whirlpools between the successive rapids.

We took the canoe down by the central channel, and when we got to the higher step, shoved her along until she overhung the fall—as we had done the previous day—and then let her drop down with a bump. It was a difficult job to hold her when once she had dropped down, as the waves below were very high and tossed her about in a merciless manner.

[222] My men had by this time become a little more amenable to reason, and in moments of suspense or danger always awaited my orders.

Once more did we eventually pack in the canoe what remained of the baggage; once more did we start—that time across a large basin 1,200 m. broad, with hills on the east side of us on the right bank. On the right of us, on leaving the basin, we had a beautiful island, 300 m. long—Ariadne Island—with a fine sand-spit at its southern end, and gorgeous vegetation upon it. Barring a few boxes of sardines, we had no more provisions of any kind, as all the food had been wasted, or lost in our various accidents.

When I look back upon that journey, I am amazed to think how Providence did help us all along. That day my men were clamouring for food, and were most unpleasant, putting the entire blame upon me and not upon their own lack of common-sense. They refused to go on. We pulled up along some rocks, baking hot from the sun, which simply roasted our naked feet when we trod upon them.

Some of the men took to their rifles and said they had had quite enough of exploring. The more we went down that river the worse things seemed to get. They would not go a metre farther. They claimed the balance of their salaries at once—I always paid them punctually every month—and said they would start on foot and try to get somewhere, if God would help them.

I agreed to pay them their salaries and let them go, taking a few minutes to distribute the money, as I wished to go to a secluded spot, not caring to undo the large packages of banknotes before them.

[223] I was walking along the rocks, saying to my men that I would be back in a few minutes, when a huge cachorra, or dog-fish, weighing some thirty pounds, leapt out of the water and fell on the rocks, wriggling and bounding convulsively. I called the men, who hastily arrived, and with the butts of their rifles killed the fish. While they were busy dissecting it, Alcides, who had not taken part in the quarrel, but had gone to the forest some little way off, hearing the noise, reappeared with a huge monkey he had killed.

I left the men to prepare an excellent and plentiful meal while I retired to a distant spot to count out their salaries. When I returned and handed them the money—after their appetites had been fully satisfied, and they had left next to nothing for me—they said I could keep the money, as they did not want it; they were sorry for what they had said, and would go on wherever I ordered them to go. They said that I certainly must have a guardian angel watching over me, and they were sure that as long as they were in my company they would never die of starvation.

"I have never seen anything like it!" exclaimed the man X, who was the humorist of the party. "We want food and cannot get it, and there el senhor strolls a few yards away from us and a huge fish jumps almost into his arms in order to be eaten."

I never cared to let them know of my own surprise at the extraordinary occurrence.

I was rather pleased that day, because my men, in an outburst of friendliness, said they knew that if ever we did die of starvation it would not be my fault, because had they been careful we would still have had[224] three or four months' supply of provisions left. They themselves said how foolish they had been; the provisions we carried had only lasted us thirty days. Nearly three weeks before I had warned Alcides to economize, and the result was that, instead of sorting out food twice a day to the men, he sorted it out four times a day and in double quantities.

Distant View showing Both Falls at the Salto Augusto.

Launching the Canoe after its Journey over a Hill Range.

That day we were really in great luck. We had the good fortune to find a bacopari tree simply laden with delicious yellow fruit, not unlike unripe cherries, and we absolutely feasted on them.

To show how unpractical my men were, it is sufficient to tell that, unlike any other human beings on the face of the globe when under a fruit-tree, they did not proceed to shake the cherries down by throwing sticks or by climbing up the tree. No, indeed; but they cut down the huge tree, which required about an hour and a half of very hard work. Anyhow, we got the cherries, and that was the principal thing.

We continued our journey over a small rapid with a low hill range spreading from west to east on the left bank. The river here was 300 m. wide. A hill range from 100 to 200 ft. high was also to be seen on the right bank, running parallel with that on the left. Five or six kilometres farther another high range of a gorgeous cobalt-blue colour and extending from south-west to north-east, stood in front of us. The river in that stretch was most beautiful, and was 900 m. wide. A charming little island 300 m. long was reflected in the water, which looked as still as oil in that particular part, although it actually ran swiftly.

[225] Although that scene was of great placidity, we believed there was more danger ahead of us, for we could hear in the distance the loud roar of another rapid or waterfall. Judging by the noise we knew it must be a big one. Soon afterwards we reached the rapid.

We had the greatest difficulty in approaching this, owing to the strong current we encountered in a small channel we followed near the right bank. The rapid was 400 m. wide and 400 m. long, with a drop of from 4 to 5 ft. Although we expected trouble at that spot, we shot the rapid with comparative ease, but we were badly knocked about, and shipped a considerable amount of water in the high waves thrown violently against the rocks. We camped that night near the rapid, having travelled in the day 26 kil. We made our camp in the forest, and we experienced stifling heat, the minimum temperature (August 9th) being 73° F., with heavy rain which came down upon us through the foliage in regular bucketfuls.

We had nothing to eat in the evening. In the morning our breakfast consisted of two sardines each. We went on in a half-hearted way, my men grumbling all the time, and looking out for birds or monkeys. Seven thousand five hundred metres from our camp we came to a waterfall, where we had endless trouble. The principal channel led to 50° b.m., but the river split up into innumerable channels among islands, islets and rocks that formed a regular maze. The river was in that particular spot 1,200 m. wide, and contained great masses of volcanic rock, much fissured, and having great holes in them. This mass of rock extended from north-east to south-west.[226] There were large cracks, where the mass had split, and had subsequently been eroded by the rush of water. The rock had cutting edges everywhere like those of razors. With endless difficulty we had managed to drag the canoe along nearly to the bottom of that dangerous place, when we were suddenly confronted by a drop of 12 ft. with a terrific rush of water over it. It was impossible for us to negotiate that point, for below was a whirlpool absolutely impassable. We had therefore the tiresome work of dragging back the canoe for some 350 m. up the rapid once more, in order that we might find a more suitable channel. To make things more lively for us, a violent thunderstorm broke out, soaking all our baggage but making little difference to us, as we were soaked already. We had spent that entire day in the water, struggling to take the canoe down the rapid and up once more. By eight o'clock at night we were still working, endeavouring to save the canoe.

We had had no lunch, and now had no dinner. My men felt perfectly miserable, and in their speech did not exactly bless the day they had started with me on that expedition. We had worked hard, and had only covered a distance of 7,500 m. in twelve hours. At sunset, while the storm was raging, we beheld a most wonderful effect of light to the west, very much like a gorgeous aurora borealis. The sky, of intense vermilion, was streaked with beautiful radiations of the brightest lemon-yellow, which showed out vividly against the heavy black clouds directly above our heads. The river reflected the red tints, so that we appeared to be working in a river of blood.

[227] As we had nothing to eat, I thought I would spend my time in taking the correct elevation of that place with the boiling-point thermometers. The man X, the humorist of the party, remarked that if I were killed and went to Heaven or some other place, the first thing I should do would be to take the exact elevation with what he called "the little boiling stove" (the hypsometrical apparatus).

We had a minimum temperature of 62° F. during the night of August 10th.

Next morning I sent my men to reconnoitre, in order to see if they could get some edible fruit. As they stayed away a long time I knew they had found something. In fact, they came back quite in a good humour, as they had found some jacoba or jacuba trees, with abundant fruit on them, most delicious to eat.

In the meantime I had gone exploring the rapids endeavouring to find a more suitable channel. Eventually, on the east side of the stream, I found a place where we could take the canoe down. There too was a fall of 9 ft., down which we let the canoe with considerable difficulty; then it had to pass over a number of smaller terraces and down winding channels, where we sweated for some hours before we got through our work. Innumerable channels separated by sand-mounds 20 to 30 ft. high had formed along that rapid and also through the vertical wall of cutting volcanic rock which formed a barrier across the stream. Below the fall were two long sand-banks, one with some burity palms upon it.

The river flowed 20° west of north for some 4,000 m. We had gone but 2,000 m. of that distance when we[228] came to another rocky barrier, spreading from south-west to north-east, on approaching which we heard the thundering roaring of another rapid. On the left bank we had a hill range all along. The noise of the rapid got louder and louder, and we were soon confronted by a terrifying rush of water at a spot where three arms of the river met with such force that the clashing waters shot up in the air, forming a wave some 40 or 50 ft. high with a foaming crest. The backwash from this great wave was so violent against the rocky banks of the river—very narrow there—that it was quite impossible for the canoe, even empty, to be let down by means of ropes.

My men were in absolute despair, for the farther we went the more insurmountable became the obstacles which confronted us. They said they had agreed to go on a journey of exploration, but surely I was taking them direct to Hades—if we had not got there already. I could not well contradict them, for certainly that particular spot was the nearest possible approach to it.

It does not do ever to lose courage. While my men, in the lowest state of depression, sat on the volcanic rocks, I went about exploring on the right bank until I found a place where the river had eroded a channel but had afterwards filled it with an immense accumulation of rocks. If we could only move those rocks away—several hundreds of them—I saw that it would be possible to push the canoe along the channel which would thus be formed. The work would require a great deal of hard labour.

A Most Dangerous Rapid navigated by Author and his Men.

You should have seen the faces of my men when I took them to the spot and asked them to remove all[229] the big boulders. In order to set them a good example, I myself started moving the rocks about, the smaller ones for preference. We worked and worked hour after hour, jamming our fingers and feet all the time as we pushed the rocks to one side and the other of the little channel, only 4 ft. wide, which we were making. The language of my men was pretty enough, but as long as they worked I had to put up with it. Alcides, who was really a great worker, and whose principal fault was that he would never save himself, worked with tremendous vigour that day. Somehow or other the men seemed to think the work hard.

When we had taken the canoe safely to the end of the rapid through the channel we had cleared, I went back to the top of the rapid to gaze once more on the wonderful sight where the two principal channels met. The water dashed against a rock in the centre with most impressive fury.

On returning to the bottom of the rapid where I had left the canoe, another most impressive sight was to be seen. In the vertiginous waters emerging from the channel high waves—most unpleasant-looking and in the greatest confusion—clashed against one another for a distance of over 500 m. below the rapid.

My men would not camp that night near the rapid, which they said was the devil's home, so during the night we went 2 kil. down the stream, where, simply worn out, we made our camp. We never could get any fish from the stream now. We had gone only 6,000 m. that day. I reckoned that, travelling at that rate, I should perhaps reach my goal, Manaos, in five or six years' time—and all the provisions I had[230] left for seven men, all counted, were now eight tins of sardines.

We had a minimum temperature of 64° F. on the night of August 11th.

We had halted just above another big and beautiful waterfall, 20 ft. high, and of immense width. The great rush of water curled over a gigantic dome of volcanic rock with many big holes and fissures. The waterfall was followed by a ghastly rapid 500 m. long. It was impossible to go over the fall, and the only way left us—a most dangerous one—was to let the canoe down a small channel 50 to 80 m. wide, cut among the vertical rocks on the right side of the waterfall. The water in the channel flowed in steeply sloping cascades. The channel twisted round abruptly in two or three places, and in one spot went through a rocky neck 35 m. wide, where the force of the current was so great that I was really perplexed as to how we could take the canoe down without getting her smashed to atoms.

Providence came to my help again. In looking round I discovered an ancient channel, now almost dry and strewn with innumerable rocks, by which it might be possible to take the canoe overland until we could find a smooth place in the water below the rapid. On further exploring that channel, as I was quick enough in noticing its possibilities, I found at the end of it what the Brazilians call a recanto—that is to say, a backwater which the river had there formed, and which would be a great help to us in floating the canoe once more.

This plan involved a great deal of hard work, as not[231] only had we to shift many large rocks out of their position, but we had to construct a railway with felled trees and rollers upon them. We could not get perfectly horizontal rails, so that the effort of moving the canoe along inch by inch with levers was trying, especially as we had had insufficient food for many days and our strength was fast failing.

To make matters worse, Alcides that day broke out in revolt. He had, like many ignorant people, the misfortune of believing that he knew everything better than anybody else. I had given him instructions to place the rails and rollers in a certain position, so that the canoe could be shifted over some unpleasant rocks. He, however, insisted on placing the rollers in the wrong place and on using the levers in the wrong spots, so that they not only did not act helpfully, but actually had the contrary effect on the canoe from that which we wanted to obtain. I remonstrated, and showed the men once more how to do it. They agreed with me, except Alcides, who became enraged to such an extent that his eyes bulged out of their orbits in his fury. He brandished one of the big levers in the air, and, shouting at the top of his voice, proceeded to give a long harangue stating that Araguary—his native town—produced greater men than England or any other country, and inciting the other men to open revolt against me.

This was a serious affair and most unexpected, as so far I had counted on Alcides to stand by me, no matter what happened. The other men were undecided. Although they were always ready to revolt, they had more confidence in the brain of an English[232]man than in that of an Araguary man. Alcides suggested that they should take possession of the canoe and everything, and that I should be left on the rocks. He shouted to the men to take the canoe along, and he himself pushed with all his might, the canoe not budging the tenth part of an inch.

I sat down on a rock. I merely said that the canoe would not move until I wished it to move. This statement I made because I saw that in their stupidity they had placed some pieces of wood under the canoe which acted as wedges instead of rollers; one piece in particular—a roller which had split in two—could not possibly move along the rough wooden rails. The men pushed and worked with all their might for over three hours, the canoe remaining still like a solid rock. At last they came to me and asked me to show them how to move it. I placed the rollers where they would be effective, removing the wedges which were impeding her journey, and with very little effort the canoe moved along.

With wild yells of excitement the men proclaimed this a miracle, always excepting Alcides, who, with a fierce expression on his face, stood now on one side, fondling his rifle. The other men chaffed him, and even insulted him, saying that he had made them struggle for nothing, as he did not know what he was about. When the rails and the rollers were placed right the canoe slid along the distance which remained to be covered, and eventually glided gracefully once more into the water.

Letting the Canoe jump a Rapid.

It was too bad that Alcides—one of the bravest of men—should possess such a mean mind and such an[233] ungrateful nature. Twice I had saved his life when he came within an ace of perishing in dangerous rapids, but never had he given thanks to me—never had he shown the slightest sign of recognition. Never, during the entire time he was in my employ, did he—or any of my other men—say "Good morning" to me when we rose, or "Good night" when we retired to sleep. Two or three nights before this last adventure, during a heavy rainstorm, I had deprived myself of my own tent in order to shelter him and the other men, while I myself got drenched.

"He only does it," said he, "because he needs to keep us alive to do the work, or else he would not do it."

I only received offensive words for any kindnesses I showered on him and the others.

It is seldom one could find a man with a more unpractical mind. He spent most of his energy working uselessly—and, mind you, very hard indeed—for nothing, but he could never be made to apply his strength in a sensible way. If I asked him to cut me a tooth-pick, he would proceed to cut down one of the largest trees in the neighbourhood and work for an hour or two until he had reduced a big section of it into the needed article. He wasted hours daily, and ruined all our axes and cutlery into the bargain, in scraping flat surfaces on rocks and on the hardest trees, on which he subsequently engraved his name and that of his lady-love whom he had left behind. He was really marvellous at calligraphy, and could certainly write the best hand of any man I have ever known.

He quarrelled all the time with all the other men,[234] and to enforce his words was constantly producing his automatic pistol fully loaded or else his rifle.

When I first employed him I had the misfortune to send him on some messages to two or three people, with the result that those former friends became my bitterest enemies, as he had insulted them. He was one of the men who cannot open their mouths without offending. Wasteful to an incredible degree, his only ambition was to show how much he could spend—especially when he was spending other people's money—a most trying thing for me when we were, months before, near any shop. When you mentioned anything to him he immediately said that it was impossible to do it, no matter how simple the matter was. He spent hours looking at himself in a small pocket mirror he carried on his person, and would grumble for long hours over the stings of mosquitoes and gnats which had dared to spoil his features. He used violent language against the impudent rocks which had injured his feet.

His brutality to men and beasts alike was most hurtful to me. He once abandoned his favourite dog on an island, simply because he had kicked it viciously the day before and the dog would not respond to his calls and enter the canoe. He now proposed to kill the other dogs, as he said they had finished their work as watch-dogs, since we never came across any Indians, and it was no use taking them along.

[235]

## CHAPTER XV

Mutiny and Threats—Wasted Efforts—Awful Waters—The Canoe escapes in a Violent Rapid—Another Mutiny—The Canoe recovered—An Appalling Vortex—The Fall of S. Simão—Cutting an Artificial Channel in the Rocks

Brazilians of a low class are unfortunately easily led by words. Alcides, who could not get over his bad temper, once more incited the men to revolt. While I was busy taking altitude observations with the hypsometrical apparatus I kept my eye on them, as I saw plainly that I was coming in for trouble.

Unfortunately for us another bad part of the rapid had to be negotiated, and the only way possible was to take the canoe overland once more. With Alcides at their head, all the men were now in open rebellion, and absolutely refused to work.

"Very good," I said to them. "If you do not like to take the canoe along we shall stay here. I like this spot very much, as it is most picturesque."

The men filled the magazines of their rifles with cartridges, and then came threateningly toward me, shoving the muzzles right in my face.

"You must give us food," said they. "We want to eat, and we want to be taken back to our country."

[236] I advised them to take a walk in the forest and see if they could shoot something there, for if they shot me, one fact was certain, and that was that they would never see their happy homes again.

Two of the men turned away in order to go after game, but the man X levelled his rifle at my head and demanded his money, as he wished to leave at once. The contract I had with him was different from that I had with the other men. I had agreed to pay him on reaching the nearest point of civilization, where I would let him loose again. I therefore said that I would most certainly pay him the very minute he had fulfilled his contract.

I paid no more attention to his threat, although I heard the click of the hammer of his rifle being cocked. I told him to get some wood to make a fire, as I wished to make myself a cup of chocolate.

In unpacking some of my instruments I had made a great discovery—a box of chocolate, which had strayed into a package by mistake.

X seemed undecided whether to shoot or not. I made no attempt to take the rifle out of his hand, as that would have been fatal. After a few moments he sat down on a rock a few yards away, his rifle resting on his knees and pointing in my direction, while I myself collected some small pieces of wood and proceeded to make the fire.

Artificial Canal made by Author and his Men in order to take their Canoe along where the river was Impassable.

Filippe the negro, who had his eye on the box of chocolate, came and helped to blow the flame. We got some water and boiled it in a large tin cup. While we were doing that I heard rifles being fired in the forest,[237] and presently Antonio returned with some fine jacu (Penelope cristata) he had shot.

The entire morning of August 12th was absolutely wasted, owing to the conduct of my men. Even after they had had a good meal, not a particle of which they offered me—not that I asked them for it—they were still in a riotous mood.

As was my habit when I had anything to eat, I always shared it in equal parts with them: when the chocolate was ready—notwithstanding their behaviour—I asked them for their cups, and each one received his share of that delicious beverage. As usual also, I sorted out that day the customary allowance of tobacco to each man, which I had been fortunate enough to save in our accidents.

When I offered the chocolate to Alcides, he handed his cup to Filippe to bring to me, and when it was handed back to him he flung it away saying he would prefer to die rather than drink the filthy English stuff.

Matters were a little critical. A great number of rollers were required and a number of wooden rails. Curiously enough, the man X, who had been the most violent that day, was the only one who came to thank me for the chocolate, and offered to work, the others all refusing to move.

He and I cut down three or four trees, when the other men—ashamed of themselves—took the axes and proceeded to work also. But instead of cutting down trees which were straight they cut down the knottiest trees they could find, and made rollers which were absolutely useless. It was their silly way of wasting the little energy they had left. The result was that[238] they had to do the work over again and cut other trees and other rollers.

Eventually we succeeded in pushing the canoe over the rocks until we were some 20 m. from the water again. With some effort we succeeded in shoving her along 18 m. out of those 20 m. There only remained the last 2 m.—unfortunately uphill, which made our effort a little greater. Here the men again stopped work and refused to give that last push to get the canoe over those rocks and then into the water. Once more they said they would shoot me and then proceed through the forest on foot.

Matters looked bad indeed. Those 2 m., with a sharp angle upward, made an insurmountable obstacle which I could not negotiate alone. With the corner of my eye I saw the rifles of my men levelled at me. There was only one way out of that difficulty—to give my men a little excitement.

"Very good!" I said to them. "If we have not the strength to move the canoe over those rocks, we certainly have the courage to shoot the rapid." I said I had never yet known a Brazilian who failed when it came to courage, and I was sure they would not fail, as I had already seen how brave they had been.

Flattery always answers.

"Come along, boys! We will take the canoe back into the rapid."

In a moment they had deposited their rifles on the rocks and they were all helping me to push the canoe back the way we had come.

The rapid in that particular part was devilish—not unlike the narrow channel we had gone through some[239] time before. The passage, with high rocks on either side, was tortuous, and threw the water with great force from one side to the other, producing high waves in the centre in such confusion that it was quite terrifying to look at them.

When my men looked at those awful waters, they suggested that perhaps we had better let the canoe down with ropes. I had quite made up my mind that we should lose the canoe for certain in that spot; and had we gone down in her ourselves we should undoubtedly have lost our lives as well.

When we started taking her down with ropes—our ropes were all rotted by that time, and had no strength whatever—the canoe was tossed about in a merciless manner. I recommended my men as they ran along to beware of the ropes catching on the cutting edges of the high rocks. No sooner had the canoe started down the swift current than one of the ropes at once caught on a rock and snapped. The men who held the other rope were unable to hold it, and let it go. I saw the canoe give three or four leaps in the centre of the channel and then disappear altogether. That was a sad moment for me. But as my eye roamed along the foaming waters, what was my surprise when I saw the canoe shoot out of the water in a vertical position at the end of the rapid and waterfall! That was the greatest piece of luck I had on that journey. By being flung out of the water with such force she naturally emptied herself of all the water she contained, and I next saw her floating, going round and round the whirlpool at the bottom of the rapid.

[240] The next problem was how to recover the canoe, as she happened to be on the opposite side of the stream. There for more than two hours we watched her going round and round, while we sat on the rocks, absolutely speechless. Eventually we saw her gradually come out of the whirlpool and drift slowly in the recanto or backwater on the opposite shore some 400 m. away, revolving slowly around herself.

My men were perplexed. They now said they would all leave me at once and proceed on foot. Under no circumstances whatever would they accompany me any more. They must have their pay and go.

So after a few minutes I paid the salaries of all the men, excepting the man X. To my surprise the men, instead of going, remained seated a little way off.

I had a plan in my head of swimming across the river below the whirlpool, where the water was placid although of great width, but I could not very well place myself in such an awkward position as to leave on the river bank the large sums of money which I carried on my person. I certainly could not swim across such a long distance, and in such a current, with the heavy bags of coin and banknotes round my waist. I feared—in fact, felt certain—that in the mood in which my men were that day, the moment I entered the water and was quite helpless they would fire at me and get away with everything I possessed. I knew that they would never dare to do it unless they could catch me in a helpless condition.

Rapid through which Author took his Canoe.

I called Antonio—who was an excellent swimmer—and said that I offered a reward of £10 to any men[241] who swam across and recovered the canoe. Antonio reflected deeply for some time, then consented to go if another man went with him. For nearly an hour he confabulated with Filippe the white man, who was also a splendid swimmer. It was with some relief that I saw the two eventually enter the water, after a paddle had been tied with long strings round each of their waists in order that they might be able to bring the canoe back.

At the point where they started the river was 200 m. wide. Although seemingly placid the current was strong. They drifted down some 300 m.—I with my telescope keeping a sharp watch on the canoe, which was still going round and round, and was now once more almost entirely filled with water. No sooner had the men, quite exhausted, reached the opposite bank than the canoe, which had been in that spot for some hours, for some reason or other started out and proceeded to float down stream in the very centre of the river. Filippe the negro and I at once started on a chase on our side of the water, in case she came near enough to seize her. I shouted and signalled to the men on the opposite bank to swim across once more to try and catch her in mid-stream.

As luck would have it, after a chase of several kilometres, over cutting rocks and great banks of sand in which we sank up to our knees—while the naked men with their paddles ran as fast as they could on the opposite bank—the canoe drifted close to the other bank once more, and the men were able to board her. It was a great relief to me when at last the canoe was brought over to our side and we towed her back so as[242] to get the baggage on board and proceed on our journey.

Each of the two men who had rescued the canoe at once received the reward I had offered, and Filippe the negro, who had shown willingness in recovering the boat, also received a handsome present.

The entire day of August 12th had been spent in going those few hundred metres of the rapid. Our camp that evening was but 400 m. from that of the day before.

The minimum temperature of August 12th had been 70° F., whereas during the night of August 13th it was 62° F.

That little adventure had pulled the men together somewhat. I spoke in great praise of the courage that Antonio and Filippe had shown in swimming across the stream.

The river was smooth for a little distance, when we proceeded once more with our navigation; but soon it became narrow—only 40 to 50 m. wide—with strong eddies in its deep channel between rocky sides. Some magnificent sand beaches 15 to 20 ft. high were observed, particularly on the right bank, not far from a tributary 3 m. wide which entered the main river on the left side. Lower down, the river described a sharp turn, and there we met another most dangerous rapid. It was entered by a passage 50 m. wide, after which a circular basin of rock—evidently an ancient crater—100 m. in diameter appeared; then the water flowed out with terrific force by a channel only 30 m. wide. The stream produced prodigious eddies in the circular basin. Waves of great height were dashed[243] to and fro from one side to the other of the narrow channel, between high rocks on either side. The water flowed first in a direction E.S.E. for 500 m., then turned off suddenly to due east for a distance of 400 m. That spot was most difficult for us to go through.

Soon after, the river turned due north and broadened to a width of 120 m. for some 4,000 m. A great basin was crossed, with submerged rocks, forming counter currents of great power and most unpleasant whirlpools. I observed with some concern a stupendous vortex 30 m. in diameter and with a deep central depression. The water revolved with such velocity and force that it formed a series of high-crested white waves running one after another at a terrifying speed around its periphery. The water was raised around the vortex certainly 10 or 12 ft. above the level of the river—owing to the opposition between the rotating water and the current. We gave that vortex as wide a berth as we could; it really frightened one to be near it, although there was no particular danger unless we got right into it.

A charming island was passed soon after, on which, as well as on the left bank, were innumerable rubber trees, but there were none on the right, where chapada was to be seen.

We had in front of us a hill range 300 ft. high. As we went farther we were in a channel between high rocks strewn about along both banks in fragments of great size; then we were once again in a circular basin with high vertical rocks—perhaps another extinct crater. We were here in a region of volcanic[244] formation. No sooner had we passed this basin than we came upon another bad rapid, 400 m. long, which divided itself into two channels, after going through a narrow passage not more than 30 m. wide, where we got tossed about in a most alarming manner, being once or twice nearly dashed to pieces against the rocky sides. We had had so much trouble with the rapids that day that by sunset we had only gone 19 kil. 600 m. Since we had come to that volcanic region we had found rocks with great holes in which stagnant water lay. Myriads of insects—regular clouds of them—worried us nearly to death.

Conveying the Canoe by Hand down a Rapid.

On August 14th we started early, the minimum temperature having been 70° F. during the night. After leaving the rapid we came to a great basin 1,000 m. across. A most beautiful sand beach 300 m. long was to be seen on the left side, below a vertical cliff of great beauty, 200 ft. high. Another great sand beach was to be seen on the right of the river, where it described a sharp turn to 30° b.m. Then the river dashed through a passage of rocks only 80 m. broad, and emerged once more into another great basin with many indentations in its rocky coast.

Some 6 kil. beyond, another basin was found, with more rocks strewn on and near its eastern bank, and a number of rocky islets. A high hill range with vertical cliffs stood on the west side and ended abruptly at the end of the basin. Low hills ran all along the river on the left side.

The river had an average width here of 250 m., and flowed mostly in directions between north-west and north-east.

[245] We went down all the time on troubled waters, with rocky banks and innumerable obstacles all the way. We went through another terrible and most intricate rapid—the Labyrinth—and passed through a channel only 40 m. wide between high rocky banks. Then, after that, for 9,500 m. we had fair and smooth navigation, with a range of flat-topped hills 300 ft. high, extending from W.S.W. to E.N.E., in front of us to the north-west. Here there was a regular maze of channels, all more or less bad. We did not follow the principal one, which was strewn with rocks, but a smaller one, at the end of which, unfortunately, we found a barrier of rocks which we could not surmount. We had all the trouble of dragging the canoe back up the rapid until we could turn her round into another channel.

We arrived at the waterfall of S. Simão, where we went through numerous channels, following the right bank as much as we could, until we arrived at a gigantic staircase of rock, down which the water divided itself into little channels. We took all the baggage over the rocks on the right bank—a very heavy task, as we had to climb up and down big boulders with sharp edges. We slipped many times with the loads we were carrying, and many, indeed, were the patches of skin we left behind in that particular place. We had a great deal of trouble in finding a place where we could take the canoe down. Eventually we had to go right across the stream over the waterfall and land on an island of rock in the centre of the river, where I had seen with my telescope that we might perhaps find a suitable passage for the canoe.

[246] Crossing the river diagonally just above the fall was risky work, and although we described a big arc up the stream, we only just managed to make the island before we were borne down by the current.

The horseshoe-shaped waterfall was about 300 m. across and some 30 ft. high. When the river is full it must be beautiful, for the east side, which was then absolutely dry, is covered entirely by water, which must form a wonderful series of cascades. When the river is in flood, the waterfall, extending from north-west to south-east, has a total width of 1,000 m. There were some picturesque bits of rugged foliated rock over that great staircase, and huge cracks through which the water gurgled and foamed—those fissures formed not by the erosion of water but by volcanic action, perhaps by an earthquake. The large fall to the north-west, over which the water flows in every season, had on one side of it a steep incline, down which we took the canoe until we came to a drop about 15 ft. high.

We halted for the night just above that high drop, spending a most miserable night, being simply devoured by insects. The minimum temperature during the night of August 15th was 72° F.

My men were in a beastly temper in the morning, when we had to proceed, as on previous occasions, to make an artificial channel by moving innumerable boulders of all sizes. It was a heavy task, for we hardly had any strength left, our meals having been most irregular of late.

A channel was not so easily made in that particular spot, as there were some boulders which we could not[247] possibly move, and the canoe must be made to go over them.

We had only been working for a few minutes, when again there was a riot among my men; again they took to their rifles and said they would leave me and the canoe there. Worse luck, the canoe got stuck hard on a rock, and the men could not move her. I cut down some rollers and some levers of the hardest woods I could find in the forest near there, and when once I had set to work a little more intelligently than they did, I had no difficulty in moving the canoe along. Eventually, with my men swearing at me the whole time, the canoe was safely at the foot of the waterfall.

We were in great luck that day, for we found plenty of wild fruit—very nutritious—and we killed one or two large birds. My men grumbled all the time, saying that they were dying of starvation, no meal being a meal at all in Brazil unless accompanied by a small mountain of feijão (black beans). I had a few boxes of sardines left, but I reserved those for extreme occasions which might yet come.

At the bottom of the fall was an immense basin, 1,200 m. wide and 3,000 m. long from north to south. The temperature was stifling that day—96° F. in the shade, and the sky overladen with clouds.

Fourteen kilometres by river below the S. Simão came another waterfall, that of All Saints.

Observations with the hypsometrical apparatus gave an elevation of 772 ft. above the level of the sea.

We halted above the rapid on a beautiful beach. A curious thing happened. Antonio in jumping into the water out of the canoe felt something sharp under[248] his foot. In looking down he saw a magnificent sword. On taking it out of the water we found that it was an old sword of the time of the Emperor Pedro II. A fight must have taken place there between a Brazilian expedition and the Mundurucu Indians, who at that time were to be found, I believe, in that region. Presumably the expedition had been attacked at that spot while trying to land. The sword was in excellent preservation.

Canoe being taken along an Artificial Canal made by Author and his Men.

[249]

## CHAPTER XVI

At Death's Door—Mundurucu Indians—All Author's Followers poisoned by Wild Fruit—Anxious Moments—Seringueiros—A Dying Jewish Trader—The Mori Brothers—A New Hat—Where the Tres Barras meets the Arinos-Juruena—The Canoe abandoned

We had a minimum temperature on the night of August 15th of 70° F.

We descended the All Saints rapid and fall, 150 m. in length, with no great difficulty, although with a certain amount of hard work.

A large basin was below it, in the eastern part of which was a charming island. Innumerable rubber trees (Siphonia elastica) were to be seen in that region. We found the south-east passage the best in descending that rapid; but, although comparatively easy, we had to use the greatest care, as my canoe was by now falling to pieces, and a hard knock against a rock would be fatal.

At the eastern end of the basin was a narrow channel between high rocks, where the current was extremely strong. A cluster of high vertical columnar rocks was seen. The three channels into which the river had been divided joined again in that basin, and were forced through a passage between high vertical rocky walls not more than 35 m. apart.

The water naturally was much troubled in being[250] forced from different sides through that narrow passage, and I knew that there must be danger. We pulled up the canoe along some rocks 50 or 60 m. from the entrance of the channel, and I instructed two men to land and go and explore, to see what was in the channel. The top rocks in that particular spot formed innumerable little points, quite sharp, and it was painful to walk on them with bare feet.

Antonio and white Filippe, who had been instructed to go and reconnoitre, went a short distance away, where they sat themselves down behind some rocks, comfortably smoking cigarettes. After twenty minutes or so they returned and said they had gone all along the channel, and there was absolutely smooth water and no danger whatever. I was not well satisfied with their answer, but they swore they had inspected the channel thoroughly, and there was no danger. So I ordered them to enter the boat once more, and we started off.

No sooner had we turned the corner round the high rocky cliffs and entered the narrow gorge than we were confronted by a huge central wave some 40 ft. high in the channel. It was formed by the clashing waters, coming from three different directions, meeting at that spot and trying to push through simultaneously. Before we knew where we were the canoe actually flew up in the air, in an almost vertical position, to the top of that enormous wave.

A Moment of Suspense.

Author and his men in their canoe going through a narrow channel between vertical walls of rock. The water forced through from three large arms of the river joining at that point formed a high and dangerous central wave.

Baggage, men, and dogs slid down in confusion, the canoe gliding back into the water and progressing as swift as an arrow down the channel. The next moment we were on the point of being dashed against[251] the high rocky cliff on our right. To my amazement, and just as I was expecting the impact, the canoe only gracefully shaved the rock, the backwash which took place along the rocks shifting us once more toward the middle of the stream.

Once again the great rush of water shot us up in the air, above the central wave, and this time the canoe bucked and rode down on the other side of that foaming mass of water.

My men were terrified. "Rema! rema! (Row! row!) for Heaven's sake!" I shouted to the perplexed men, as I tried to instil into them a little courage, when within me I really thought we were lost. As I shouted those words I saw to my horror two of the paddles washed away, and as I quickly measured with my eye the length of the channel I perceived that we still had some 200 m. more of that kind of navigation before we should shoot out of that dangerous place.

Up and down we went several times on that high central wave; several times did we again shave the rocks on either side of the narrow channel. We were quite helpless, my men in chorus yelling "We are lost! we are lost!"

Alcides bravely stuck to the helm for some time, but the force of the water was so great that he was knocked down into the canoe and had to let go. When we reached the point where the narrow passage came to an end, the waters looked so diabolical that when my men shouted "We are lost! we are lost!" I could not help saying "Yes, we are!"

I held on to the canoe desperately, as we were banged about for a few seconds in a way that nearly[252] stunned us, the waves striking me in the face with such force that it took me some moments to recover. When I did I found that we were already out of the channel and in the whirlpool, the canoe full of water but fortunately saved.

I lose most things in the world, but I never lose my patience nor my sense of humour. I could not help laughing when I looked at the expression on the faces of my dogs—an expression of terror and astonishment, as they looked first at the place from which we had emerged and then at me, which I am sure would have meant in words: "Good gracious! where in the world are you taking us?"

We had to halt as soon as convenient in order to cut some new paddles. It took my men some hours to recover from the effects of that experience.

As is generally the case after a violent emotion, a great deal of merriment was produced, my men for the rest of the day talking about the incident and reproducing in a realistic way the sounds of the rushing water and the impact of the waves against the canoe.

We found after that a great basin 3,000 m. long, 1,300 m. broad, from west to east, with a lovely sand beach 1,000 m. long on its eastern side.

Conveying the Canoe through the Forest.

(Notice the side of the canoe split and stuffed with pieces of cloth.)

At last—after all that time without meeting a soul—I came across a small tribe of Mundurucus—six of them all counted. They had their aldeja, or village, on the right side of the stream. Their chief rejoiced in the name of João. They were tiny little fellows, the tallest only 5 ft. in height. If you had met them anywhere else than in Central Brazil you would have mistaken them for Japanese, so exactly like them[253] were they in appearance. Their faces were of a very dark yellow, almost black, with perfectly straight hair, just like the Japanese or their near cousins, the Tagalos of the Philippine Islands.

The Mundurucus were mild and gentle, soft-spoken and shy. They had all adopted Brazilian clothes. The hut of the chief was extremely clean and neat inside, the few utensils that were visible being kept in a tidy manner.

João spoke a little Portuguese. From him I was able to buy a quantity of farinha, which came in useful to us, although I had to pay an exorbitant price for it—£4 sterling for each 50 litres or thereabouts—that is to say, about 5½ pecks in English measure. The price of farinha on the coast would be less than four shillings for that quantity.

What interested me most among the Mundurucus was their strange ornamentations. The angular pattern was a great favourite with them, especially angles side by side, and the cross—which I think had been suggested, however, by their contact with Catholic missionaries farther down the river.

The rudimentary figures which they carved—merely lines for the body, legs and arms, and a dot for the head—were extraordinary because they represented the body and limbs covered with hair, done simply by minor parallel lines. I asked the Mundurucus why they represented human beings with hair, whereas they themselves were hairless on the body and face. They said it was because in ancient times all the people were hairy like monkeys.

I was strongly impressed by the difference in type[254] between those Indians and the Bororos, and also by the great difference in their language. When later on I came in contact with the Apiacars, another tribe of Indians living on the Tapajoz River, and closely allied to the Mundurucus, I discovered that their language bore a certain resemblance, curiously enough, to that of the Maya Indians of Yucatan in Central America.

I had been so busy taking notes of all I had seen in the aldeja, that when we started once more down the river I did not at first miss my best dog, Negrino, of whom I had got very fond. We had gone some 4 or 5 kil. down the river when I discovered that my men had given it away to the Indians while I was occupied studying the geological formation of that part of the country. It was impossible to go back all those kilometres against the current to recover the poor dog. Although it gave me a great deal of pain I never for one moment let the men see it, as I knew that it was in order to hurt me that they had disposed of Negrino.

It is never right or useful to take revenge, for if you wait long enough you are always avenged by Providence. That afternoon my men saw some wild chestnuts on a tree, and they insisted on landing to pick them. They knocked down the tree, as usual, to get the chestnuts, although it was fully 3 ft. in diameter. They picked a great many of the wild chestnuts and proceeded to eat them—Alcides, much to my amazement, actually offering me one. I asked them if they knew what they were eating, as I quickly observed when the tree fell down that not a single chestnut had been touched by birds or monkeys.

I have always noticed in equatorial countries that[255] if you never touch fruit that monkeys do not eat you will seldom get poisoned. My men said that they had never seen the fruit before, but as it looked pretty they were going to eat it, and a lot of it. So they stopped some time cracking the nuts and eating them with great delight.

When we got back to the canoe we had only gone a short distance when Filippe the negro was seized with violent pains in his inside. His eyes had become sunken, his lips were quivering, and in a moment he was seized with cramps all over the body—so much so that he collapsed.

We had to halt on a small island of rock, where we took Filippe out and I had him laid flat on his chest, he being just like a corpse. I inserted a leather strap into his throat in order to cause immediate vomiting, then I unpacked some of the castor oil which still remained in my possession—we never seemed to lose the beastly stuff—and gave him a dose powerful enough to kill an ox.

The other men were laughing all the time, saying that they felt no pain at all; but their boast did not last long, for a few moments later, while I was watching poor Filippe, Antonio and the man X threw themselves down on the rocks, rolling over and contorting themselves, evidently in most excruciating pain.

The same treatment was applied to them in turn, and I watched with great concern three men out of the six spread out helpless, and in such a dreadful condition that I really doubted whether they would be alive in another hour. I considered myself fortunate that the other three had not been poisoned.

[256] Half an hour later—it was impossible to move on with the three men lying helpless on the rocks—Filippe the white man and Benedicto also collapsed. Again the same treatment once more.

Alcides looked at the other men with an air of contempt and said: "They are rotten fellows! They cannot eat anything without getting poisoned. I feel no pain at all; the fruit has done me no harm."

When I turned round to look at his face it had turned a lemon-yellow colour, which I did not quite like, but I did not mention the fact to him, and went about from one dejected man to another to try and bring them back to life again.

Filippe the negro opened his eyes for a moment. "I am dying!" he said. "Good-bye, sir! Please give all my money to my sweetheart in Araguary."

I noted her name and address in my book, for I really thought Filippe was about to expire.

The moans and groans all round me were most funereal, and the odour unbearable, the nuts having formed a chemical combination in their insides which made their breath most offensive. The heat in the sun was oppressive on those volcanic rocks. My bare feet were absolutely scorched as I walked on them.

Not many minutes later Alcides was rolling himself upon the rocks in intense pain. When I rushed to him to apply my favourite method he rebelled, refusing the treatment.

"Very good," I said to him; "will you live or will you die?"

Leading the Empty Canoe down a Dangerous Channel.

(Photographed a few seconds before the rope snapped and canoe escaped.)

"I prefer to die," said he, and proceeded to moan and groan, and also to dictate the name and address[257] of his sweetheart in Araguary for me to pay to her the money which belonged to him.

In a way I was sorry to see my men suffering so much. I was already thinking of how I could get out of that difficult dilemma. If they had all died it would have been out of the question for me to work the huge canoe alone going down such dangerous rapids.

Some four hours were spent in deepest reflection, a little distance off from my men. I had done my best, and I could do no more for them. I returned every little while to see how they were progressing, but for the first three hours they were in so pitiful a condition that I really thought they could not possibly recover.

When Alcides was almost unconscious I applied to him also the remedy I had used for the other men.

It was only after some five hours or so that Filippe the negro began to feel a little better. Gradually one after another the men, half-dazed, were able to get up, swaying about as if badly intoxicated. They said they saw all the things in front of them moving up and down. Evidently the poison had affected their vision and also their hearing, as they said they could only hear me faintly when I spoke to them.

Late in the evening I persuaded them to get once more into the canoe, as it was not possible to camp on those rocks. We floated down—fortunately for us the river was placid for some 15 kil., and we let the current do most of the work—I steering while all my men lay flat in the bottom of the canoe. We passed along two or three beautiful islands with quantities of rubber upon them.

My men felt very bad the entire night, but by the[258] next morning they were a little better, although in a most exhausted condition. We had a minimum temperature of 72° F. during the night of August 17th.

We had some luck that evening, for we came to the hut of a seringueiro, a negro, and his wife, who had cut down a portion of the forest near their hut and cultivated some mandioca. Their amazement at seeing us appear was curious to watch, especially when they looked at our canoe—held together with pieces of rope and stopped up with pieces of our garments.

Those poor people, stranded there without a possibility of getting away, were extremely kind. My men heard with delight that we should find no rapids of great importance from that point down stream, and that we might find a few other seringueiros on our way.

I was able to buy from the seringueiro a quantity of food, my men being overjoyed at the prospect of eating feijão again with their meals. Naturally the expense of taking food so far up the river was very great, and I was glad indeed to pay the exorbitant price which the seringueiro asked of £10 sterling for each 50 kilos of farinha; feijão at 6s. a pound; sugar at 5s. a pound—the prices which the seringueiros themselves had to pay for those commodities from the rare trading boats which once a year reached that farthermost point.

We started down stream once more, passing a tributary stream, 5 m. wide, on the left bank. We had only gone 9 kil. when to our great joy we met two trading-boats owned by a Brazilian Jew, who was on board in a critical condition from malarial fever. Although in a dying state, he had not lost[259] his racial commercial ability. It was most interesting to watch his expiring countenance while trying to strike the best bargain possible. He sold me sixty candles for 60s., eight biscuits for the equivalent of 7s. 6d., and a quantity of dried meat at 5s. a pound.

He looked askance at us, as he could not make out who we were, what we were doing up that river, where we could have come from. At last he signed to me that he had something to whisper in my ear. He asked me if I was a runaway cashier from a bank! I told him that if I had been a runaway cashier I would certainly not come and spend my money on the Arinos-Juruena River.

The sight of human beings again—if that term could be applied indiscriminately to all we had met so far—had greatly excited my men.

Some 13 kil. farther, the river being smooth but swift, we came to a basin 700 m. broad, where the river described a turn toward the north-east. We came upon a large clearing on the hill-side on the left bank. There we saw the remains of two or three huts which had been destroyed by fire. We perceived one or two people, and we landed. We found that it was the shed of an enterprising Peruvian trader who had established himself there in order to collect rubber. Only a few days before we arrived a great fire had taken place, which had destroyed nearly all he possessed; but—fortunately for us—they had saved a few things, and I was able to purchase a quantity of rice, biscuits, dried meat, beans, farinha, condensed milk, banho (liquid lard in tins), and a number of other[260] things, such as clothes, shirts, rope, nails, axes, etc., which we needed badly.

The Peruvian trader—of the Brothers Mori's firm—must have had a handsome store indeed at that place, a quantity of jewellery, rifles, pistols, etc., all badly injured by the fire, being seen strewn on the ground as we walked about.

The Peruvians are wonderful traders, most remarkable people for exploring unknown regions and carrying on commerce to the most distant points where human beings are found. That particular Peruvian firm had foreseen that that region will some day develop to a great extent, and they had therefore established their store at the most distant point where it was possible to navigate the river without extraordinary dangers.

The prices charged by the Peruvian, even when circumstances might have led him to put a high price on the goods he sold me, were far lower than those of the Jew in his dying moments.

The river was there 1,000 m. wide, and of amazing beauty, flowing to 30° b.m. N.N.E. for 5,000 m. in a direct line.

We had gone 30 kil. that day, and we had had so many things happen to us, we felt so rich and happy with our new purchases and with the prospect that our trials were nearly over, that when night came we had a grand meal, and slept soundly notwithstanding the swarms of mosquitoes which buzzed around us.

The S. Simão Waterfall.

During the night of August 18th the minimum temperature was 71° F. During the day the temperature[261] of the air was not much warmer—only 78° F. in the shade with a nice breeze, while 113° F. were registered in the sun.

We halted for one day in order to repair the canoe, as it was all we could do to keep her afloat, she was leaking so badly. Poor Benedicto, who had spent the last few weeks baling out the water, swore that the moment he could leave the expedition he certainly would, since he felt he should turn into a fish soon, as he had not been dry one second for the last two months.

The minimum temperature during the night of August 19th was 72° F.

When we proceeded down the river we came upon most beautiful sand beaches, one as much as 500 m. long. Quantities of most delicious tortoise eggs were to be found. Furthermore, we killed some giant tortoises. Altogether we felt that all of a sudden we had dropped from a regular inferno into a heaven on earth.

My men were paddling away with great vigour and were making rapid progress, the river flowing almost all the time northward, with deviations of a few degrees toward the east, in stretches from 2,000 to 6,000 m. in length. We crossed an immense basin 1,500 m. broad with most gorgeous sand beaches. Their formation in small dunes, occasionally with an edge like the teeth of a double comb, was most interesting. Once or twice we came to musical sands such as we had found before. Everywhere on those beaches I noticed the wonderful miniature sand plants, of which I made a complete collection.

[262] As we went down we came to one or two seringueiros' huts, and to a store belonging to our friend the dying Jew, who rejoiced in the name of Moses. As he had taken all the stuff with him in the trading boat in order to exchange it for rubber from the collectors, he had left nothing in the store except a cheap straw hat.

As my hat by that time had lost most of its brim, and the top of it had got loose and was moving up and down in the breeze, I thought I would not lose the opportunity of getting new headgear. So the purchase was made there and then, and thus fashionably attired I started once more down stream.

We passed on the way most impressive sand banks and beaches—500, 700, and one 1,500 m. long. The river in some spots was 1,000 m. wide. A great island 4,000 m. in length—Bertino Miranda Island—was then passed, with a beautiful spit of sand 15 ft. high at its southern end. Hillocks were visible first on the left bank, then on the right. Other elongated sand accumulations of great length were found beyond the big island, one a huge tail of sand extending towards the north for 1,000 m. Beyond those accumulations the river was not less than 1500 m. across, and there an immense beach of really extraordinary beauty ran on the right side for a length of 1½ kil.

On that beach we halted for lunch. In the afternoon we continued, between banks on either side of alluvial formation, principally silts and clay, light grey in colour or white. In fact, the soil in the section directly below the higher terrace of the great central plateau of Matto Grosso, was formed by extensive alluvial[263] accumulations which had made an immense terrace extending right across all Central Brazil from west to east, roughly speaking from the Madeira River to the Araguaya and beyond.

After we had gone some 5 kil. in a straight line from our camp to 10° b.m., we perceived a headland with a hill upon it 200 ft. high. We had been greatly troubled in the afternoon for the last two days by heavy showers of rain and gusts of a north-westerly wind. Once or twice we got entangled in channels among the many islands, and had to retrace our course, but we went on until late in the evening, my men believing firmly that we had now reached civilization again and that the journey would be over in a few days. I did not care to disillusion them.

Late at night we camped on a magnificent beach, 1,000 m. long, at the end of Araujo Island, 1,200 m. in length.

We had gone that day, August 19th, 46 kil. 500 m.

My men hung their hammocks on the edge of the forest. That camp was extremely damp and unhealthy. When we woke up the next morning all my followers were attacked by fever and were shivering with cold.

We left at 7.30 a.m. under a limpid sky of gorgeous cobalt blue. We passed two islands—one 700 m. long (Leda Island), the other 2,000 m. (Leander Island). When we had gone but 11,500 m. we arrived at one of the most beautiful bits of river scenery I have ever gazed upon—the spot where the immense S. Manoel River or Tres Barras or Paranatinga met the Arinos-Juruena. The latter river at that spot de[264]scribed a sharp turn from 20° b.m. to 320° b.m. We perceived a range of hills before us to the north. Close to the bank gradually appeared a large shed with a clearing near it on a high headland some 200 ft. above the level of the river where the stream turned. On the left bank, before we arrived at the meeting-place of those two giant streams, we found a tributary, the Bararati, 30 m. broad.

The S. Manoel River showed in its centre an elongated island stretching in an E.N.E. direction. Where the Arinos-Juruena met the S. Manoel it was 1,000 m. wide, the S. Manoel being 800 m. wide at the point of junction.

No sooner had we turned to 320° b.m. than we perceived on our left the collectoria of S. Manoel, with two or three neat buildings. Several astonished people rushed down to the water as they saw the canoe approaching. When I landed the Brazilian official in charge of that place and his assistants embraced me tenderly and took me inside their house. When I told them how we had come down the river, tears streamed down their cheeks, so horrified were they.

"Did you come in that log of wood?" said the collector, pointing to my canoe. I said I had. "Good gracious me!" he exclaimed. "I will not let you go another yard in that dangerous conveyance. I will confiscate it, as I need a trough for my pigs and it will just do for that purpose, and not for navigating a dangerous river like this. If you want to go on by river I will supply you with a good boat."

The Huge Canoe being taken through a Small Artificial Canal made in the Rocks by the Author and his Men.

That was the last time I put my foot inside my canoe. I removed for good the British flag which had[265] flown daily at her stern, and it gave me quite a serrement de cœur when I patted the poor canoe on her nose and said good-bye to her for ever. Notwithstanding her miserable appearance she had done really remarkable work.

[266]

## CHAPTER XVII

A Fiscal Agency—Former Atrocities—The Apiacar Indians—Plentiful Rubber—Unexploited Regions—Precious Fossils thrown away by Author's Followers—A Terrific Storm—Author's Canoe dashed to Pieces—The Mount S. Benedicto

The State of Matto Grosso had recently established a fiscal agency at the junction of the two rivers in order to collect the tax on the rubber exported from that region. The Fiscal Agent, Mr. José Sotero Barretto, and his assistant, Mr. Julio Vieira Nery, were intelligent and polished gentlemen. Their predecessor was not like them. His barbarity, not only to the Apiacar Indians but also to the Brazilians in his employ, was almost incredible. For no reason whatever he killed men right and left, until one day as he was getting out of his canoe one of his men shot him in the back.

So much has been said of late of atrocities in the Putumayo Region that perhaps one may be allowed to say that the Putumayo Region is not the only place where atrocities have occurred. To any one not acquainted with those regions it is difficult to understand why those atrocities take place at all. Curiously enough, they are due to a large extent to medicine. Those regions are all extremely malarial. The people who are ordered there are afraid of being infected long[267] before they start on their journey. They begin taking preventive quinine and arsenic, which renders them most irritable and ill-tempered; the solitude preys upon them, and they add to the poisoning from medicine the evil effects of excessive drinking. Add again to this that few men can manage to be brave for a long period of time, and that the brain gradually becomes unbalanced, and you have the reason why murders are committed wholesale in a stupid effort chiefly to preserve oneself.

The Apiacar Indians, I was told, were formerly much more numerous in that region than at present. Most of them had been killed off, and their women stolen. When Mr. Barretto arrived at the collectoria he had great trouble in persuading the Indians to come near him; but he has been so extremely kind to them that now the entire tribe—some twenty people—have established themselves at the collectoria itself, where they are given work to do as police, rubber collectors, and agriculturists combined. Mr. Barretto and his assistant were much respected and loved by the natives. Unlike his predecessor, he treated them with the greatest consideration and generosity.

Mr. Barretto furnished me with an interesting table showing the amount of production and export of rubber from that district for the year 1910. From this table it appears that from May 3rd to December 31st 30,356 kil. of the finest quality rubber, 10,153 kil. of sernamby (or scrap rubber), 4,858 kil. of caoutchouc, and 30,655 kil. of sernamby caoutchouc—altogether a total of 76,022 kil.—passed through the collectoria on the Matto Grosso side, which does not include the opposite side[268] of the river, belonging to the Province of Para, where another collectoria has been established. That quantity of rubber had been collected by some eighty people, all told, including the local Indians.

Mundurucu Indians.

Mundurucu Indians.

It was impossible to get labour up that river. The few seringueiros, chiefly negroes who were there in absolute slavery, had been led and established by their masters up the river, with no chance of getting away. Their masters came, of course, every year to bring down the rubber that had been collected. Twenty times the quantity could easily be brought down to the coast if labour were obtainable. Not only was the Juruena River itself almost absolutely untouched commercially—as we have seen, we did not meet a soul during the fifty days we navigated it—but even important tributaries close to S. Manoel, such as the Euphrasia, the São Thomé, the São Florencio, the Misericordia, and others, were absolutely desert regions, although the quantity of rubber to be found along those streams must be immense. The difficulty of transport, even on the Tapajoz—from the junction of the two rivers the Juruena took the name of Tapajoz River—was very great, although the many rapids there encountered were mere child's play in comparison with those we had met with up above. In them, nevertheless, many lives were lost and many valuable cargoes disappeared for ever yearly. The rubber itself was not always lost when boats were wrecked, as rubber floats, and some of it was generally recovered. The expense of a journey up that river was enormous; it took forty to sixty days from the mouth of the Tapajoz to reach the collectoria of S. Manoel. Thus, on an average the[269] cost of freight on each kilo (about 2 lb.) of rubber between those two points alone was not less than sevenpence or eightpence.

As the River Tapajoz is extremely tortuous and troublesome, I think that some day, in order to exploit that region fully, it will be found necessary to cut a road through the forest from S. Manoel to one of the tributaries of the Madeira, such as the River Secundury-Canuma, from which the rubber could be taken down to the Amazon in a few days.

From the point of junction of the River Tres Barras or S. Manoel and the Juruena, the river was fairly well known. It was partly in order to ascertain whether the project of the road from S. Manoel to the Madeira were feasible, that I decided to leave the river and cross the forest due west as far as the Madeira River.

I spent two or three most delightful days enjoying the generous hospitality of Mr. Barretto. I was able to purchase from him a quantity of provisions, enough to last us some three months, and consisting of tinned food, rice, beans, farinha, sugar, coffee, and dried meat.

Mr. Barretto kindly arranged to send his assistant, Mr. Julio Nery, and three Apiacar Indians in order to help me along during the first two or three days of our journey into the forest.

As I should be travelling on foot from that point across virgin forest, and we should have to carry whatever baggage we had, it was necessary for me to abandon all the things which were not of absolute importance, so as to make the loads as light as possible.

I left behind at S. Manoel a tent, some of my rifles, a quantity of cartridges, etc., the only articles I took[270] along with me besides provisions being my cameras, instruments, the photographic plates already exposed, with some two hundred plates for further work, and the geological and botanical collections, which by that time had got to be valuable.

As I was unpacking the different cases in order to sort out the baggage, I came to the box where I expected to find the precious fossil human skull and the vertebræ I had discovered in Matto Grosso. To my horror the fossils were to be found nowhere. I asked Alcides and the other men, and pressed them for an answer. I received a terrible blow indeed when they confessed that nearly a month before, one night while I was asleep, they had taken the valuable possessions and had flung them into the river. Their excuse was that the loads were heavy enough in carting baggage along the rapids, and they would not be burdened with what they called "stupid stones."

This last bit of infamy turned me so much against my men that I could not bear the sight of them. It will be easily understood that when you go to such great expense and risk as I did in obtaining valuable material, and had obtained it, to be deprived of it through the ignorance and meanness of one's own men, who were treated with the greatest generosity from beginning to end, was certainly most exasperating. In a half-hearted way I packed up all the other things and made ready to continue the journey. The contempt I had for my men from that day, nevertheless, made it quite painful to me to be in their company. At S. Manoel the men gave me no end of trouble. Benedicto refused to go on any longer. The other[271] men wanted to halt there for a month in order to recuperate their strength. Filippe the negro was drunk, and slept all the time we were there.

I know too well that on expeditions it is fatal to halt anywhere; therefore I was anxious to push on at once. The night before our departure Mr. Barretto gave a grand dinner-party in my honour, long speeches being read out by him and his assistant, when we sat down on rough wooden benches and packing-cases to a most elaborate meal of fried fish, grilled fish, boiled fish, tortoise eggs—quantities of them—stewed pork and roast pork. A whole sucking-pig adorned the table. The greatest happiness reigned that night at table, and I owe a deep debt of gratitude to Mr. Barretto for his exquisite kindness during the two or three days I was his guest. My men were also asked to the banquet, and had a good fill. But I felt extremely sad, quite broken-hearted, over the loss of the fossils, and I could really enjoy nothing notwithstanding outward appearances.

After dinner, when my men had retired, Mr. Barretto and his assistant expressed great surprise at my not having been murdered by my followers before then. They said that in their whole experience they had never come across such impossible creatures. They could not understand how the Governor of Goyaz could possibly let me start in such company. They seemed most anxious for me, as some of my men had evidently, while drunk, spoken at the collectoria and said things which had greatly upset and frightened the fiscal agent.

Three days after my arrival in S. Manoel I was[272] ready to depart, having conceived a plan to go some 60 kil. farther by river to a point from where I would strike due west across the forest as far as the Madeira River. I was just about to go on board the boat placed at my disposal by Mr. Barretto, when a terrific storm broke out, with lightning and thunder, and a howling wind which blew with fury, raising high waves in the river—very wide at that point. It was a wonderful spectacle, with the river in commotion and the dazzling flashes of lightning across the inky sky. Amidst it I saw my faithful canoe being dashed mercilessly by the waves time after time against some sharp rocks, until she broke in two and foundered. I was sorry to see her disappear, for she had served me well.

When after a couple of hours the storm cleared, I took my departure, on August 24th. During my stay at S. Manoel I had taken observations for latitude (7° 16′·9 S.), longitude (58° 34′ W.), and elevation (601 ft. a.s.l. on the river, 721 ft. at the collectoria).

Author taking Astronomical Observations on a Sandy Beach of the River Arinos-Juruena.

Just across the river, at the mouth of the Tres Barras, was the collectoria for the State of Pará. The Pará seringueiros worked on the Rio Tres Barras and its tributaries on its right side—that is to say, the Annipirí, the Igarapé Preto, the Cururu, and another (nameless) stream. There were, perhaps, altogether some eighty or a hundred seringueiros, all told, working in that immense region on the Pará side. In the year 1910, 90,000 kil. of rubber were collected by those few seringueiros, and in the year 1911 a slightly larger amount was sent down the river from that point. The Pará Fiscal Agency was only established there on December 11th, 1910. The collectoria was situated in[273] a most beautiful spot on a high point overlooking the mouth of the Tres Barras, and directly facing the Juruena-Arinos. On the Juruena previous to reaching S. Manoel on the left side was a stream in which gold was to be found.

Amid the affectionate farewells of Mr. Barretto I left S. Manoel in a beautiful boat belonging to the fiscal agent. The effects of light on the water were wonderful after the storm. The river, immensely wide, flowed in a N.N.W. direction, then due north in great straight stretches from 2 to 4 kil. in length. As we had left late in the afternoon we were not able to go far. We passed some beautiful islands, one particularly of immense length, with an extensive sandy beach at its southern end. After going some 18 kil. we came to a great barrier of rocks extending across the river from south-west to north-east. Some distance below those rocks a great sand-bank spread half-way across the stream.

We halted for the night at the fazenda of Colonel Gregorio, a seringueiro from whom I expected to get an Indian who knew the forest well and who could be of some assistance to me in going across it. The house of Col. Gregorio—a mere big shed—was a regular armoury, a great many rifles of all ages, sizes, and shapes adorning the walls; then there were fishing spears and harpoons, vicious-looking knives and axes. In the principal room was a large altar with a carved figure of the Virgin standing with joined hands before lighted candles and a bottle of green peppermint. The latter was not an offering to the sacred image, but it was placed on the revered spot so that none of[274] Gregorio's men should touch it. Enormous balls of rubber filled the greater portion of the floor, waiting to be taken down the river.

With great trouble the Indian—a man called Miguel—was induced to accompany me; also a young boy, who, at a salary of 15s. a day, agreed to act as carrier.

It was not until late in the afternoon on August 25th that we left the fazenda in order to proceed down the stream. We passed the tributary river Roncador on the left side, with its beautiful high waterfall a short distance before it enters the Tapajoz. We came soon afterwards to the island of S. Benedicto, south of which on the left bank was the hill of the Veado, 120 ft. high. Directly in front of the island, also on the left bank, was the Mount of S. Benedicto, where legends say an image of that saint exists carved out by nature in the high rocky cliff.

As we passed under the hill our crew fired several volleys in honour of the saint; then we landed and I climbed up to go and see the wonderful image. Many candles had been burnt on a platform of rock on the cliff side, and the sailors who came up with me brought a new supply of stearine and set them ablaze on that natural altar. The men pointed out to me the figure of the saint, but with all the best intentions in the world I could see no resemblance whatever to a human being.

"There it is! there it is!" they shouted, as I twisted my head one way and the other to see if I could find a point of view from which I could see the saint. The men knelt down and prayed fervently for[275] some minutes, as they believed it was necessary to pay these signs of respect in order to ensure a good journey down the river. Some went as far as to tear off pieces of their garments and leave them on the rocky platform as offerings.

The eastern face of the S. Benedicto Mount was a vertical wall 200 ft. high in horizontal strata of a deep grey colour, and some 300 m. in length along the river.

We had wasted so much time, and the men rowed so badly, that we made poor progress. We only went 21 kil. that day. We halted for the night near a seringueiro's hut at the small rapid of Meia Carga, or Half-charge Rapid, because at low water the boats have to be half unloaded in order to get over that spot.

The minimum temperature during the night was 69° F. We slept in the boat, and were simply devoured by mosquitoes. The chief of the Indians who had been lent me by the Fiscal Agent became seriously ill during the night with a severe attack of fever. All my men, with no exception, also became ill, and were shivering with cold, owing to fever. The chief of the police, Luiz Perreira da Silva, who had been placed by Mr. Barretto in charge of the Indians who were to accompany me, in jumping from the boat that night on to the shore hurt his foot, the pain caused by that slight injury giving him also a severe attack of fever. So that of the entire crew there remained only two men in good health—viz. Mr. Julio Nery and myself.

Amid moans and groans we got the boat under way at 6.45 the next morning, the men paddling in a half-hearted manner. As the current was strong we drifted down fairly quickly in a northerly direction, the river[276] there being in a perfectly straight line for some 8,000 m. The width of the river was 1,300 m.

Behind a little island on the left side, and approached through a circle of dangerous rocks, was the hut of a seringueiro called Albuquerque, a man in the employ of Colonel Brazil, the greatest rubber trader on the river Tapajoz. We landed at that point and made preparations so that I could start at once on the journey on foot across the virgin forest.

The loads the men were to carry were not heavy—merely from 35 to 40 lb. each—the heaviest load being the one I carried, so as to give a good example to my men. We had ample provisions to last us, with a little economy, three months. When the moment arrived to depart there was not one man who could stand up on his legs; the policeman with his injured foot could not even land from the boat, as it gave him so much pain. The chief of the Indians was so ill with the fever and the medicine he had taken that he really looked as if he might not survive. The other Indians refused to leave their chief; while the Indian Miguel, whom I had employed subsequently, flatly refused to come along. Much time was wasted talking, Mr. Nery, a fluent speaker, haranguing the men, who lay around helpless, holding their heads between their hands or rolling themselves on the ground.

It is extraordinary how many ailments fright can produce.

Where the Rivers Arinos-Juruena and S. Manoel meet.

José Maracati, Chief of the Mundurucus, Tapajoz.

The accounts of the forest which I had heard in the neighbourhood were most conflicting. It was really impossible to tell beforehand what the crossing overland between the Tapajoz and the Madeira River would[277] be like. In order to encourage my own men I had once more increased their pay for the extra hard work I required of them on that occasion, and I promised them each a further present of money if they succeeded in carrying all the loads safely as far as the Madeira River.

They had agreed to do the work, but unfortunately they were the most unpractical men I have ever come across, and insisted on carrying the loads in a way which made it impossible for them to carry them for any long distance. For instance, one man insisted on carrying a heavy wooden packing-case slung on one side of the body just over the hip, in the fashion in which Italians carry barrel-organs in the streets of cities; another man suspended a case on his back by a strap which went round his neck, so that after a few minutes he was absolutely strangled; while Filippe the negro let his load hang so low that it would certainly cause a bad sore on his spine. I tried to teach them, but it was no use, as it only led to a row. Absolutely disgusted with the whole crowd of them, late that afternoon of August 26th I made ready to start on our difficult journey.

[278]

## CHAPTER XVIII

Starting across the Virgin Forest—Cutting the Way incessantly—A Rugged, Rocky Plateau—Author's Men throw away the Supplies of Food—Attacked by Fever—Marching by Compass—Poisoned—Author's Men break down—Author proceeds across Forest endeavouring to reach the Madeira River—A Dramatic Scene

By three o'clock in the afternoon I had been able to induce the Indian Miguel, his friend the carrier, and three other Apiacar Indians to come along with us for a few days in order to carry the heavier packages as far as possible into the forest, so that I could spare my men.

It was some relief to me—although I saw plainly that we should surely have disaster sooner or later—when one after the other my men took up their loads and started off. I gave them the correct direction with the compass, almost due west; in fact, to make it easier for them I told them that afternoon to travel in the direction of the sun.

With Filippe the negro at the head my own men started off at a rapid pace, the others following, while I was at the tail of the procession in order to see that no stragglers remained behind. For a short distance we found an old picada which went practically in the direction we wanted, so my men followed it, only[279] cutting when necessary the vegetation which had grown up here and there.

I had only gone a few hundred metres when I saw the ground a little way off our track covered with some white substance. With my usual curiosity I went to see what it was, and found to my disgust a large quantity of rice which had evidently been scattered about there a few moments before. A few yards farther was another patch of white upon the ground, as if it had snowed. A whole sack of flour had been emptied and scattered about in such a way that it could not be recovered.

I well knew what was happening. My men were throwing away everything in order to make the loads lighter. So relieved of the weight, they had got far ahead, while the Apiacar Indians who had remained behind were behaving in so strange a fashion that I had to stay in charge of them, so that they should not escape with the boxes of instruments and collections which they were carrying for me.

We went that afternoon some 6 kil. through fairly clean forest, barring a few obstacles such as huge, ancient, fallen trees, the insides of which were all rotted away or eaten up by ants. In one of the cavities of those trees I found another quantity of food which had been hidden by my men. Hampered by the Indians, who were giving me no end of trouble as they refused to carry their loads, it took me some little time to catch up with my other men. When I did I found them all seated, smacking their lips. They were filling their mouths as fast as they could with handfuls of sugar. When I reprimanded them there was an[280] unpleasant row. They said they were not beasts of burden, that men were not made to carry, and that therefore they had thrown away all the food. Under no circumstance would they carry loads any farther.

A great deal of tact and persuasion were required. Alcides had discarded nearly all the stuff he carried, and was one of the chief offenders on that occasion.

Matters looked bad. We camped that night near a little streamlet at the point where it had its birth. We still had plenty of food left, notwithstanding what they had thrown away. I warned them that if they threw away any more we should certainly all die of starvation. During the night one of the Indians ran away carrying with him a quantity of our provisions.

On August 27th I once more proceeded on the march westward, this time with no picada at all to follow, but cutting our way all the time through the forest. Mr. Julio Nery, who had been sent with me, was an enthusiastic and brave man, but in trying to help made us waste a great deal of energy and time. After marching eight hours we had only gone 10 kil. in the right direction, having made many deviations in order to find what he called a more suitable way. We travelled occasionally over thickly wooded, slightly undulating country, but generally the land was flat.

Apiacar Boy.

Apiacar Indian.

In the afternoon, when we arrived at the foot of a small hill, we were caught in a drenching storm, the foliage letting the water down upon us in profusion. The walking became heavy. In order to make the loads lighter, my men had removed from the packages the waterproof coverings I had made for them from[281] waterproof sheets. The result was that in that storm nearly our entire supply of salt—some 50 lb. of it—was lost. The powdered sugar, too, suffered considerably, and became a solid sticky mass.

We arrived at a stream 10 m. broad flowing from north to south, where we had to halt, as my men said they were absolutely exhausted and could not go another step. The water of that stream was simply delicious. We killed a monkey, which my men ate eagerly for dinner.

On August 28th we left that stream at eight o'clock. We were confronted by a succession of steep hills with vertical rocks of immense size, on the summit of which were great slabs also of rock, not unlike angular roofs of houses. It was most difficult, I confess, for my men to take the loads up and down those giant rocks, especially as there were many fallen trees among them and the rocks themselves were extremely slippery.

It would not do to repeat in these pages the language of my men as they scrambled up and rolled down the numerous rocks—falling so clumsily that they always managed to injure themselves more or less. I was sorry for my loads, especially the instruments, which got knocked about in a pitiful way.

We came across three distinct hill ranges of that type, over which we had to travel, the highest point being some 300 ft. above the level of the Tapajoz River. The last bit in particular of that hilly region was diabolically steep, with loose rocks which gave us no end of trouble. A beautiful little streamlet flowing east descended in cascades among those huge rocks. Eventually we reached the summit of the plateau, a[282] huge flat expanse of dark red volcanic rock. My men were so tired that we had to camp on that elevation. Nothing but a few shrubs grew in the interstices of that great table of rock, which extended for several kilometres to the north. The barrier of rock, a spur of the great central plateau, was very interesting from a geological point of view.

On August 29th we again marched westward, cutting our way through the forest, and found two streamlets—one flowing south, the other north. Late in the afternoon we arrived at a spot where there was another great mass of rock, most troublesome for us. My men were discontented, saying that when they agreed to march through the forest they had not agreed to march over rocks—as if I had placed these there on purpose to annoy them. They were extremely morose. I knew by their manner that I had fresh trouble in store.

In the centre of that second immense table of rock I found a few pools of putrid rain-water in cavities. My men wanted to halt there, but I induced them to march along in hopes of finding a stream at the bottom of the tableland. Unluckily we went on and on until the evening and we found no more water at all. Only a torrential shower came upon us during the night, and we were able to fill our cups with water to quench our thirst. Men and baggage got soaked in that storm. The loads were much heavier to carry the next morning.

On August 30th, when I called the men in order to make a start, two of them were attacked severely by fever, their temperature being 103°. They seemed to be in agony, and had no strength left.

[283] Mr. Julio Nery said that his duties called him back to his post, and he must return with the Indians under his charge. He accompanied me up to lunch-time, when we all together had a hearty meal. After lunch I gave Mr. Nery and his men ample provisions to return to the river Tapajoz, where the boat was awaiting them. Not only that, but I presented Mr. Nery with a handsome rifle and a watch, in remembrance of his politeness to me. In order that he might have a pleasant journey back I also gave him the few tins of delicacies which I had brought for myself, the only four tins of condensed milk I had been able to obtain in S. Manoel, and a few tins of sardines which had remained from my provisions I had taken over from England, and which he liked very much.

It was a great trial to me to see how my men wasted food all the time. When I examined the loads once more I found that nearly the entire supply of flour, farinha, rice, lard, and much of the tinned stuff had been thrown away. We had been marching four and a half days, and out of the three months' provisions we only had food enough left to last us a few days.

With my reduced party of my six original men, the Indian Miguel and his friend the carrier—eight altogether—I started once more in a westerly direction, opening a picada—that is to say, cutting our way through the forest.

We crossed two streamlets flowing north. After that we came upon a most troublesome patch of swampy land with high reeds in it, the leaves of which cut our hands like razors when we forced our way[284] through them, struggling in mud and slush up to our knees, sometimes as high as our waists. A streamlet flowing north formed the marsh in that low place. The moment we had got out of the marsh the men threw themselves down and said they could go no farther. I pointed out to them that that spot was most unhealthy, and tried to persuade them to go some distance from that pestilential place. But they would not listen to reason, and there they would stay.

Although I had offered them every possible inducement to come on—their original high pay had been practically trebled as long as the hard work should last—and I had treated them with the greatest consideration, yet they refused to come any farther. They said they had decided to go back.

In examining my loads I found that they had abandoned my sextant and other instruments in the forest, and it was only after a great deal of talking that I could induce the man X to go back with me to recover them, for which service he received an immediate present of one pound sterling.

As luck would have it, that evening my men shot a plump jaho (Crypturus notivagus) and a large mutum (Crax pinima), two enormous birds, most excellent to eat.

Apiacar Women.

Apiacar Women.

That camp was stifling, the moisture being excessive, and the miasma rising from the putrid water poisoning my men in a disastrous way. The drinking-water, too, from that swamp was full of germs of all sizes, so big that with the naked eye you could see hundreds of them in your cup. We could not boil the water because all our matches had got wet. We wasted hundreds of them in trying to light a fire, but[285] with no success. Flint and steel also proved useless, because the wood was also soaking wet and would not ignite.

August 31st was a painful day for me. Two of the men were badly laid up with fever, the others were most obnoxious. I had endless trouble in making them take up their loads and start once more. The man X said he would take the load which contained my instruments, but he would certainly leave it, as soon as he had an opportunity, concealed in a spot where it could not be found again. I told him in plain words that if he carried out his intention I would shoot him dead, and I would from that moment do the same to any other man who rebelled. I was surprised to find that the lot of them took their loads upon their shoulders and proceeded to march along as quietly as possible.

The Brazilian forest was—unlike the equatorial forest of Africa—comparatively clean underneath, there being very little undergrowth. It was quite easy to cut one's way through if one knew how. There was a great art in cutting one's way through the forest. If you happened to know the way trees grew or liane were suspended, it was easy enough to cut them with one sharp blow of the large knives. But if you did not happen to know the formation of the trees and you struck them the wrong way, you had to hit them many times before you knocked them down. The same thing and worse happened with liane, which could be severed easily with one stroke if it were applied the right way, but which wound round and entangled you in a merciless manner if hit at a wrong angle.

[286] No observant person, however, experiences trouble in marching through the Brazilian forest, and if not hindered by impossible followers it would be quite easy to march long distances daily in any part of the forest without much inconvenience.

This statement only applies to the actual marching, and does not at all mean that you had not to go through severe sufferings and endless trials of other kinds. Unless you were careful where you were sitting, you found yourself spiked by thorns of great length which were strewn all over the forest hidden under the thick carpet of discarded foliage from the trees. Not only that, but the moment you sat down your body was simply invaded by swarms of ants of all sizes and degrees of viciousness, which proceeded to bite you all over with considerable vigour. There were not many mosquitoes where the forest was dense, but there were millions—in fact, milliards—of bees, which rendered your life absolutely unbearable, as they clung to your face, hands and clothes. Fortunately, they did not sting, but clinging with their claws upon your skin they produced such an irritation that you were nearly driven mad by it.

Then there were fetid bugs of huge size, the sickening odour of which when they touched you had quite a nauseating effect. They seemed to have a particular fondness for settling upon your lips or entering your mouth. When by mishap you swallowed them, their taste was something too appalling. Once or twice while I was eating I had the misfortune to crack one or two under my teeth. I had the bad taste of them in my mouth for hours after.

[287] When we halted for lunch my men were in a shocking condition. I could not quite understand what had happened. Most of them seemed to suffer from violent internal inflammation accompanied by high fever.

In order to make things as easy as possible for them I once more rearranged the loads that afternoon, abandoning six hundred rifle cartridges, several tins of hyposulphite of soda, other chemicals, all the developing trays, etc., for my photographic work, and a number of valuable trinkets I had collected. Much to my sorrow I had also to abandon the geological collection, which was too heavy to be carried any farther. Then I had to abandon all the books which were necessary for working out my astronomical observations, such as Norrie's Navigation and The Nautical Almanac, and all possible articles which were not absolutely necessary.

After I had gone to the great trouble of unpacking everything in order to make the loads lighter, I was surprised to discover, a few minutes later, that the men had appropriated most of the stuff and shoved it back in their loads—in order, perhaps, to sell it when they got to Manaos.

I said nothing, as it suited me very well. I should have gladly repurchased the things from them on the way. One man opened a tin of powdered hyposulphite and, believing it to be powdered sugar, proceeded to pour it down his throat. Had I the bad habit of making puns, I should say that I just saved him in time from being "fixed" for good. As it was he swallowed some, and became very ill indeed for some hours.

[288] We luckily killed a big mutum and two monkeys before leaving that camp, but my men were so ill that they left them on the ground, saying they had not the strength to carry them so that we might eat them for dinner. Well knowing what was in store for us, I proceeded to carry the huge bird (much larger than a big turkey) and one of the monkeys (as big as a child three years old) upon my shoulders.

It was all I could do to struggle along under the heavy load, as I already carried upon my person some 24 lb. in weight of gold, silver, other moneys, and instruments, while on my shoulders hung a weight of some 40 lb. Add to that the big bird and the monkey, and altogether the weight was certainly not less than 90 lb. I was simply smothered under it.

We suffered a good deal that day from lack of water and from the intense heat. There seemed to be no air in the forest, and our breathing was heavy. Each time a man fell down and refused to go on I had to put down my load, go to his assistance and persuade him to get up again. It was a most trying experience.

After going some eight hours without finding a drop of water, our throats absolutely parched with thirst, we luckily came upon some solveira trees, which, when incised, exuded most excellent milk—only, of course, it dropped down tantalizingly slowly, while we were cruelly thirsty, especially my men in their feverish state. It was curious to see them all clinging to the tree with their mouths applied to the wounds in order to suck the milk.

Mundurucu Women.

Apiacar Children.

Some way farther on we came across some rubber[289] trees—which fact made us joyful, as we knew water would then be near. In fact, a kilometre beyond, water of a deep reddish yellow colour was found in a streamlet 10 m. wide, flowing north.

We halted on the western bank. We had been cutting through the forest the entire day. My men were simply exhausted. I, too, was glad when I put down the bird and the monkey—particularly as they had a pungent odour, quite typical of wild animals of Brazil, which affected my nose for some hours afterwards. Also they were covered with parasites, which caused violent itching on my neck and shoulders, on which they had been resting.

I had marched all the time, compass in hand, next to the man who with the large knife opened the way through the forest. We had travelled all day—cutting, cutting all the time—and by the evening we had gone about 10 kil.—that is to say, at the rate of a little over 1 kil. an hour.

The yellow water of the stream—it looked just like strong tea, and tasted of everything in the world except water—had not a beneficial effect upon my men. For some reason of their own the men, who seldom took a bath in the clean rivers, insisted on bathing in those coloured waters, which, I might also add, were just then almost stagnant in that particular section of the stream.

Personally, I had taken out a large cup full of water before they had gone to bathe, and avoided drinking again; but my men drank that water, made dirtier by their immersion and the use of soap—my soap, too!

[290] The next morning all had excruciating headaches. Their legs dangled, and they did not seem to be able to stand on them. Only the Indian—Miguel—seemed to have any strength left. He was a nasty-looking individual, always sulky and pensive as if under some great weight upon his conscience. Miguel and I walked in front, he with a big knife opening the way in the forest for the others to come behind.

Just before leaving camp on September 1st I had gone some distance up the yellow stream in order to get a last drink in case we found no other water that day. The Indian, who was supposed to know the forest well, knew nothing whatever, and always misled me whenever I asked for information.

A few minutes after we had left, I was seized with violent shivers, my teeth chattered, and I felt quite as frozen as if I had suddenly dropped in the Arctic regions. Evidently I had been poisoned by the water. I collapsed under my load, and for some moments I could not get up again. Although I had spent all my time and energy helping everybody else to get up when in difficulty, not one of my men came near me to unfasten the loads from my shoulders or help me to get up on my legs again. They merely squatted a little way off when they saw that I had collapsed, and proceeded to roll up their cigarettes and smoke.

True, I did not let my men suspect that I was very ill. After a few minutes I struggled up once more under my heavy load and asked the men to come along. I had been seized with such a violent attack of fever that my strength seemed to have vanished all of a sudden, my limbs quivering in a most alarming[291] way. I carried a clinical thermometer on my person. My temperature was 104° F. From ten o'clock in the morning until three in the afternoon the attack of fever was so acute that several times I fell down. My men, who were in a pitiable condition that day, collapsed, now one, now another, although their loads were less than half the weight of mine, each man carrying about 40 lb. We marched until four o'clock that afternoon, but only covered a distance of 6 kil. in that entire day. Two of the men had abandoned their loads altogether, as they could not carry them any farther. What vexed me considerably was that they had discarded my valuable things in preference to leaving the great weight of rubbish of their own which they insisted on carrying, such as looking-glasses, combs, brushes, a number of old clothes in shreds, and the heavy hammocks, which weighed not less than 20 lb. each.

We found water in a streamlet which formed a marsh. There my men insisted on making camp. It was a most unhealthy spot. Ill as I was, I endeavoured to induce them to come on a little farther and see if we could improve on that halting-place. Miguel, the Indian, who had slightly scratched his finger, now refused to cut the picada any longer, as he said the pain was intense. It was only by giving him a present of money that I had succeeded in leading the man on until we reached the marsh.

Curiously enough, the man X, who was the champion rascal of the crowd, proved himself that day to be the best of the whole lot. He even went back with me to try and recover some of the most important[292] things from the loads which the men had abandoned some 2 kil. before we had made our camp.

As we stumbled along we could not even lean against the trees to have a little rest, as most of them had thousands of horizontal thorns of great length sticking out all around them. Innumerable thorns were upon the ground. Our feet were full of them. I looked all the time where I was putting my feet, but sometimes the thorns were hidden under masses of dried foliage, and they were so long and so strong that they went clean through the sides of my shoes.

The last blow came to me that evening, when my men informed me that we had no food whatever left. All that remained of our three months' provisions were six tins of sardines and one tin of anchovies. That was all. My men made no secret of having thrown away everything as we came along. The sugar, for which they had a perfect craving, they had eaten, consuming in the last two days the entire supply of 30 lb., which had remained until then. It was then that I understood the cause of the internal inflammation from which they all suffered. They were greatly excited, and demanded the balance of their money, not wishing to come on any more; they wanted to fall back on the River Tapajoz and go home. There was a riot. They threatened to shoot me if I insisted on their coming on.

Just then a big black monkey appeared upon a tree, inquisitively watching our doings. The man X shot it. A moment later a big jaho was brought down, also by the man X, who was the best shot of the party. My men were never too ill to eat. They immediately[293] proceeded to skin the poor monkey and pluck the feathers from the bird, in order to prepare a hearty meal. But they complained that they had no feijão, and no coffee after their dinner. When we started a few days before we had a supply of 40 lb. of coffee.

Feasting on the meat did not seem to be a good remedy for internal inflammation and fever. The next morning my men were really in a precarious condition. I saw that it was out of the question for them to continue. Personally, I would certainly not go back. I came to an understanding with them that I would leave sufficient ammunition for them to shoot with, as there seemed to be plenty of game in that particular part of the forest. We would divide equally what provisions we had—that is to say, three tins of sardines for each party. I would also give them sufficient money for one of them, or two, to fall back on the river and purchase provisions for the entire party. I made them promise that they should remain in charge of my baggage, most of which I would leave with them at that spot, while I, with two men, would go right across the forest as far as the Madeira River, where I would endeavour to get fresh men and new provisions.

The men agreed to this. As I could not trust any of them, I took the precaution to take along with me all my notebooks and the maps I had made of the entire region we had crossed, four hundred glass negatives which I had taken and developed, a number of unexposed plates, a small camera, my chronometer, one aneroid, a sextant, a prismatic compass, one other compass, and a number of other things which were absolutely necessary. The rest of the baggage I left at that spot. I[294] begged the men to take special care of the packages. All I asked of them was to prop them up on stones so that the termites and ants should not destroy my possessions, and to make a shed with palm leaves so as to protect the packages as much as possible from the rain. The men promised to do all this faithfully. We drew lots as to who were to be the two to accompany me on the difficult errand across the virgin forest. Fate selected Filippe the negro and Benedicto, both terribly ill.

We had no idea whatever what the distance would be between that point and the Madeira River. It might take us a few days to get there; it might take us some months. All the provisions we of the advance party should have to depend upon were the three tins of sardines and the tin of anchovies—the latter had remained in our possession when we tossed up as to which of the two parties should have it. The Indian Miguel was induced at the last moment to come also, and with him came the carrier his friend.

Early on September 2nd I was ready to start, and roused poor Filippe and Benedicto, who were in a shocking state. Without a word of farewell from the men we left behind, and for whom we were about to sacrifice our lives perhaps, we started on our dangerous mission. The Indian Miguel and myself walked in front, cutting the way all the time, while I held my compass in hand so as to keep the correct direction west. Considering all, we marched fairly well.

It was curious to note how difficult it was for men to travel in a straight line while cutting a way through the forest. I noticed that the Indian, when cutting[295] his way through, using the knife in his right hand, would gradually veer to the right, so that if you let him go long enough he would describe a regular circle and come back to his original starting-point. If he cut the way with the left hand, the tendency would be to keep to the left all the time until he had described a circle that way. That was not characteristic of that man only, but of nearly all the men I met in Brazil when making a picada. It was therefore necessary to keep constant watch with the compass so that the deviation should be as small as possible during the march.

We had gone but a short distance from camp when we came to a streamlet of the most delicious water. I had suffered a great deal from thirst the day before. We had been so poisoned by the yellow water of the stream that I did not like to try more experiments at the marsh where my men insisted on making camp. So that now I really enjoyed a good drink of the limpid water. That day we found too much water. On going 1 kil. farther, about 4 kil. from camp, we found another wider and equally delicious streamlet, 2 m. wide. All the streams we met flowed in a northerly direction.

We walked and walked the entire day, until 6 p.m., covering a distance of 26 kil. The Indian Miguel worried me the whole day, saying that cutting the picada was heavy work and he could not go on, as his finger was hurting him, and the pay he received—£1 sterling a day—was too small for the work he had to do. I had to keep constant watch on him, as he was a man of a slippery nature, and I did not know what[296] he might do from one moment to another. Also he said we were simply committing suicide by trying to go through the virgin forest, as we should meet thousands of Indians who would attack us, and we had no chance of escape. I needed this man and his companion to carry my sextant and the unexposed photographic plates, some two hundred of them, which were of considerable weight.

That night, when we made camp, Miguel shot a fine jacú (Penelope cristata), and we had a meal. Soon after a regular downpour came upon us, making us feel most uncomfortable. At about eight o'clock, however, the rain stopped. With a great deal of trouble we were able to light a fire, while the wet leaves of the trees kept on dropping water on us and making a peculiar rustling noise on the carpet of dead foliage on the ground.

By the light of that fire a weird and almost tragic scene took place. Miguel came up to me, and said in a dramatic tone that for the sake of his wife and children I must let him go back, as we were marching to sure death. If I did not let him go back ... here he took his forehead between his hands—"God help me!" he said, and he burst into tears. He said he did not wish for his pay, as he had not fulfilled his contract. Whatever he had on his person he was willing to give me if I would only let him go back. I said I wished him to keep all his possessions, and as he did not wish to go along with me I would certainly let him go back the next morning. He would then also receive the pay according to the time he had been with me. Miguel went back near the fire, where he cried for some[297] time. Accustomed to deal with Brazilians, I perceived that Miguel thought my promises too good to be true.

When leaving the last camp I had improvised for myself a kind of hammock with some straps and a waterproof canvas sheet which I had cut out of one of my tents. I was lying in that hammock thinking, when I saw Miguel get up, and, screening his eyes with his hand, look fixedly my way. I pretended to be asleep.

Miguel—who, by the way, was a Christian—took the dagger from his waist and walking to a large tree scratched a cross upon its bark. Then, sticking the knife with force into the tree, he clasped his hands over its handle, and bent his head over it, muttering some prayers. Twice—perhaps thinking he was being observed—he turned round towards me, and when he did so the expression on his face, lighted by the flickering flame, was really ghastly.

He prayed for some ten minutes, then, with the dagger in his hand, he walked cautiously towards my hammock. He was within 3 metres of me when I jumped up, seizing Filippe's rifle, which I had placed by my side in the hammock. With the butt I struck the Indian a violent blow in the chest.

He stumbled back, dropped his knife and went down on his knees touching my feet with his trembling hands and begging my pardon. Again came more sobs and tears; again more entreaties to be discharged. I got up and confiscated his rifle and all his cartridges, as well as the knife, then sent him to his hammock to sleep. The next morning I would see what I could do.

[298] I saw clearly that it was no use taking on a man like that, who added to my other trials somewhat of a mental strain. The next morning, before sunrise, we were up again. I gave Miguel and his friend their full salaries up to date and sent them back. I handed him his rifle and cartridges, which were his own possessions, but I kept the knife as a memento.

Even when treating men generously in Brazil you had always to beware of treachery. I told Miguel and his friend to walk straight ahead and not turn round. I warned Miguel not to unsling his rifle from his shoulders until he had walked half a league. If he did while still in sight of me I would put a bullet through him. I said it and I meant it.

[299]

## CHAPTER XIX

Benedicto and Filippe show Courage—Confronted with a Mountainous Country—Steep Ravines—No Food—Painful Marches—Starving—Ammunition rendered useless by Moisture—The "pros" and "cons" of Smoking—A Faint Hope—A Forged Tin which should have contained Anchovies—Curious Effects of Starvation upon the Brain—Where Money is of no Avail—Why there was Nothing to eat in the Forest—The Sauba Ants—Sniffed by a Jaguar—Filippe tries to commit Suicide.

The departure of those two men added much to our troubles. I had to abandon at that spot all the unused photographic plates, my sextant and a large prismatic compass, half the supply of cartridges we had taken with us, a pair of extra shoes, and a number of other things. With our reduced loads we made an early start, Filippe that day behaving very bravely.

"Never mind," said he; "if all the others are afraid, I am not. I will follow you anywhere. After all, nothing can happen to us worse than death. You have always behaved kindly to me, and I will never abandon you."

Both Filippe and Benedicto were still poorly, but the violent exertion of the previous day had done them good and their condition seemed to have slightly improved.

We started once more across the virgin forest,[300] directing our steps due west. Filippe this time undertook to open the picada, while I, compass in hand, marched directly behind him, Benedicto following me. Filippe, who was unaccustomed to go through the forest, was even worse than Miguel for keeping the correct direction. If I had let him go, he would have described circle after circle upon himself instead of going in a straight line.

From that point our march across the forest became tragic. Perhaps I can do nothing better than reproduce almost word by word the entries in my diary.

We ate that morning what little there remained of the mutum we had shot the previous evening. Little we knew then that we were not to taste fresh meat again for nearly a month from that date.

During September 3rd we made fairly good progress, cutting our way through incessantly. We went that day 20 kil. We had no lunch, and it was only in the evening that we opened the last of the three small boxes of sardines, our entire dinner consisting of three and a half sardines each.

On September 4th we were confronted, soon after our departure, with a mountainous country with deep ravines and furrows, most trying for us owing to their steepness. We went over five ranges of hills from 100 to 300 ft. in height, and we crossed five streamlets in the depressions between those successive ranges.

Filippe was again suffering greatly from an attack of fever, and I had to support him all the time, as he had the greatest difficulty in walking. Benedicto had that day been entrusted with the big knife for cutting the picada.

[301] We went some 20 kil. that day, with nothing whatever to eat, as we had already finished the three boxes of sardines, and I was reserving the box of anchovies for the moment when we could stand hunger no longer.

On September 5th we had another very terrible march over broken country, hilly for a good portion of the distance, but quite level in some parts.

The man Benedicto, who was a great eater, now collapsed altogether, saying that he could no longer carry his load and could not go on any farther without food.

The entire day our eyes had roamed in all directions, trying to discover some wild fruit which was edible, or some animal we might shoot, but there was the silence of death all around us. Not a branch, not a leaf was moved by a living thing; no fruit of any kind was to be seen anywhere.

Our appetite was keen, and it certainly had one good effect—it stopped Filippe's fever and, in fact, cured it altogether.

The two men were tormenting me the whole day, saying they had no faith in the compass: how could a brass box—that is what they called it—tell us where we could find feijão? It was beyond them to understand it. They bemoaned themselves incessantly, swearing at the day they had been persuaded to come along with me and leave their happy homes in order to die of starvation in the forest with a mad Englishman! And why did we go across the forest at all, where there was no trail, when we could have gone down by the river on a trading boat?

[302] On September 6th it was all I could do to wake up my men. When they did wake, they would not get up, for they said the only object in getting up was to eat, and as there was nothing to eat there was no use in getting up. They wanted to remain there and die.

I had to use a great deal of gentle persuasion, and even told them a big story—that my agulha or needle (the compass) was telling me that morning that there was plenty of feijão ahead of us.

We struggled on kilometre after kilometre, one or another of us collapsing under our loads every few hundred metres. We went over very hilly country, crossing eight hill ranges that day with steep ravines between. In fact, all that country must once have been a low tableland which had been fissured and then eroded by water, leaving large cracks. At the bottom of each we found brooks and streamlets of delicious water. Of the eight rivulets found that day one only was fairly large. It fell in little cascades over rock. We could see no fish in its waters.

The forest was fairly clean underneath, and we had no great difficulty in getting through, a cut every now and then with the knife being sufficient to make a passage for us. I had by that time entirely given up the idea of opening a regular picada, over which I could eventually take the men and baggage I had left behind.

We found that day a palm with a bunch of small nuts which Benedicto called coco do matto; he said they were delicious to eat, so we proceeded to cut down the tall palm tree. When we came to split[303] open the small cocos our disappointment was great, for they merely contained water. There was nothing whatever to eat inside the hard shells. We spent some two hours that evening cracking the cocos—some two hundred of them—each nut about the size of a cherry. They were extremely hard to crack, and our expectant eyes were disappointed two hundred times in succession as we opened every one and found nothing whatever to eat in them.

We were beginning to feel extremely weak, with a continuous feeling of emptiness in our insides. Personally, I felt no actual pain. The mental strain, perhaps, was the most trying thing for me, for I had no idea when we might find food. I was beginning to feel more than ever the responsibility of taking those poor fellows there to suffer for my sake. On their side they certainly never let one moment go by during the day or night without reminding me of the fact.

On September 7th I had the greatest difficulty in getting the men out of their hammocks. They were so exhausted that I could not rouse them. We had had a terrific storm during the night, which had added misery to our other sufferings. Innumerable ants were now causing us a lot of damage. Filippe's coat, which had dropped out of his hammock, was found in the morning entirely destroyed. Those miniature demons also cut the string to which I had suspended my shoes in mid-air, and no sooner had they fallen to the ground than the ants started on their mischievous work. When I woke up in the morning all that remained of my shoes were the[304] two leather soles, the upper part having been completely destroyed.

Going through the forest, where thorns of all sizes were innumerable, another torture was now in store for me. With pieces of string I turned the soles of the shoes into primitive sandals; but when I started on the march I found that they hurt me much more than if I walked barefooted. After marching a couple of kilometres, my renovated foot-gear hurt me so much in going up and down the steep ravines that I took off the sandals altogether and flung them away.

That day we went over eleven successive hill ranges and crossed as many little streamlets between them. My men were terribly downhearted. We had with us a Mauser and two hundred cartridges, but although we did nothing all day long but look for something to kill we never heard a sound of a living animal. Only one day at the beginning of our fast did I see a big mutum—larger than a big turkey. The bird had never seen a human being, and sat placidly perched on the branch of a tree, looking at us with curiosity, singing gaily. I tried to fire with the Mauser at the bird, which was only about seven or eight metres away, but cartridge after cartridge missed fire. I certainly spent not less than twenty minutes constantly replenishing the magazine, and not a single cartridge went off. They had evidently absorbed so much moisture on our many accidents in the river and in the heavy rain-storms we had had of late, that they had become useless.

While I was pointing the gun the bird apparently[305] took the greatest interest in my doings, looked at me, stooping down gracefully each time that the rifle missed fire, singing dainty notes almost as if it were laughing at me. The funny part of it all was that we eventually had to go away disappointed, leaving the bird perched on that very same branch.

As the days went by and we could find nothing to eat, my two men lost their courage entirely. They now refused to suffer any longer. They said they had not the strength to go back, so they wanted to lie down and die. Many times a day did I have to lift them up again and persuade them gently to come on another few hundred metres or so. Perhaps then we might find the great river Madeira, where we should certainly meet traders from whom we could get food.

Filippe the negro was a great smoker. He had brought some tobacco with him, and he had so far smoked all the time. He said that as long as he had a cigarette in his mouth he did not feel the pangs of hunger quite so much.

Since my return to civilization I have been constantly told by smokers that if I had been a smoker too I might have suffered less than I did. Now let me tell you what happened to smoker Filippe when his tobacco came to an end on that painful march. Filippe became a raving lunatic, and in a fit of passion was about to stick right through his heart the large knife with which we cut our way through the forest. I had quite a struggle in order to get the knife away from him, and an additional strain was placed upon my mind by keeping a constant watch on the knife so that it could not be used for suicidal purposes.

[306] Poor Benedicto, who was of a less violent nature, from morning to night implored to be killed. The two together moaned and groaned incessantly, and accused me a hundred times a day of taking them there on purpose to die. They certainly made me feel the full and heavy weight of our tragic position. The mental strain of leading along those two poor fellows was indeed much more trying to me than the actual lack of food.

In order to save as much as possible of the baggage we carried, I promised Filippe and Benedicto a considerable present of money if they were able to take the stuff until we reached the Madeira River.

Late in the afternoon of September 7th, as we were on a high point above the last range of hills met that day, a large panorama opened before us, which we could just see between the trees and foliage of the forest.

To obtain a full view of the scenery it was necessary to climb up a tree. I knew well that we could not yet have reached the river we were looking for, but perhaps we were not far from some large tributary of the Madeira, such as the Secundury.

Climbing up trees in the Brazilian forest was easier said than done, even when you possessed your full strength. So many were the ants of all sizes which attacked you with fury the moment you embraced the tree, that it was not easy to get up more than a few feet.

When we drew lots as to whom of us should climb the tree, Benedicto was the one selected by fate. Benedicto was certainly born under an unlucky star;[307] when anything nasty or unpleasant happened to anybody it was always to poor Benedicto. After a lot of pressing he proceeded to go up the tree, uttering piercing yells as every moment great sauba ants bit his arms, legs or body. He was brave enough, and slowly continued his way up until he reached a height of some 30 ft. above the ground, from which eminence he gave us the interesting news that there were some high hills standing before us to the west, while to the north-west was a great flat surface covered by dense forest.

No sooner had Benedicto supplied us with this information from his high point of vantage than we heard an agonising yell and saw him spread flat on the ground, having made a record descent.

Filippe and I, although suffering considerably, were in fits of laughter at Benedicto, who did not laugh at all, but pawed himself all over, saying he must have broken some bones. When I proceeded to examine him I found upon his body over a hundred sauba ants clinging to his skin with their powerful clippers.

Aching all over, poor Benedicto got up once more. I put the load upon his back and we resumed our journey, making a precipitous descent almost à pic down the hill side. Our knees were so weak that we fell many times and rolled down long distances on that steep incline. At last we got to the bottom, rejoicing in our hearts that we had no more hills to climb, as I had made up my mind that I would now march slightly to the north-west, so as to avoid the hilly region which Benedicto had discovered to the west.

[308] My men had an idea that the great river we were looking for must be in that plain. For a few hours they seemed to have regained their courage. We heard some piercing shrieks, and we at once proceeded in their direction, as we knew they came from monkeys. In fact we found an enormously high tree, some 5 ft. in diameter. Up on its summit some beautiful yellow fruit stared us in the face. Four tiny monkeys were busy eating the fruit. Benedicto, who had by that time become very religious, joined his hands and offered prayers to the Virgin that the monkeys might drop some fruit down, but they went on eating while we gazed at them from below. We tried to fire at them with the Mauser, but again not a single cartridge went off. Eventually the monkeys dropped down the empty shells of the fruit they had eaten. With our ravenous appetite we rushed for them and with our teeth scraped off the few grains of sweet substance which remained attached to the inside of the shells. We waited and waited under that tree for a long time, Filippe now joining also in the prayers. Each time a shell dropped our palates rejoiced for a few moments at the infinitesimal taste we got from the discarded shells. It was out of the question to climb up such a big tree or to cut it down, as we had no strength left.

We went on until sunset; my men once more having lost heart. Brazilians lose heart very easily. At the sight of small hills before them, a steep descent, or a deep river to cross, they would lie down and say they wanted to remain there and die. Filippe and Benedicto did not carry more than 20 lb. each of my own baggage, but their hammocks weighed some[309] 20 lb. each, so that their loads weighed altogether about 40 lb.

We went on, crossing five more streamlets that afternoon, of which one, 2 m. wide, had beautifully limpid water. We nevertheless went on, until eventually after sunset we had to camp near a stream of filthy water. We did not mind that so much, because, contrary to the popular idea that while you are starving you require a great deal of water, I found that during those days of starvation both my men and myself hardly ever touched water at all. Personally I am accustomed to drink only with my meals, and as I had no meals at all I never had the slightest wish to drink. My men, however, who while on the river, for instance, when we had plenty of food, drank perhaps twenty times a day from the stream, now that they were starving only seldom touched the water, and when they did, only in very small quantities. I do not suppose that my men during the entire period of starvation drank on an average more than a wineglass of water a day. Personally I know that I never drank more than half a tumbler or less in the twenty-four hours during that time. Under normal circumstances I drink about a quart of water a day. The water, I may say, was plentiful all the time, and, barring a few occasions, such as on that particular night, most excellent.

As we had now been four entire days without eating anything at all, I thought it was high time to open the valuable tin of anchovies—the only one in our possession. We had a terrible disappointment when I opened the tin. I had purchased it in[310] S. Manoel from Mr. Barretto. To our great distress we discovered that instead of food it contained merely some salt and a piece of slate. This was a great blow to us. The box was a Brazilian counterfeit of a tin of anchovies. How disheartening to discover the fraud at so inopportune a moment! I had reserved the tin until the last as I did not like the look of it from the outside. We kept the salt—which was of the coarsest description.

On September 8th we were slightly more fortunate, as the country was flatter. I was steering a course of 290° b.m. (N.W.). I found that farther south we would have encountered too mountainous a country.

We crossed several streamlets, the largest 3 m. wide, all of which flowed south. We had no particular adventure that day, and considering all things, we marched fairly well—some 20 kil. Towards the evening we camped on a hill. When we got there we were so exhausted that we made our camp on the summit, although there was no water near.

On September 9th, after marching for half an hour we arrived at a stream 15 m. wide, which I took at first to be the river Secundury, a tributary of the Madeira River. Near the banks of that stream we found indications that human beings had visited that spot—perhaps the Indians we had heard so much about. The marks we found, however, were, I estimated, about one year old. Although these signs should have given us a little courage to go on, we were so famished and exhausted that my men sat down on the river bank and would not proceed. By that time we had got accustomed even to the fierce bites of the[311] ants. We had no more strength to defend ourselves. In vain we strained our eyes all the time in search of wild fruit. In the river we saw plenty of fish; we had a fishing-line with us, but no bait whatever that we could use. There are, of course, no worms underground where ants are so numerous. We could not make snares in the river, as it was much too deep. So we sat with covetous eyes, watching the fish go by. It was most tantalising, and made us ten times more hungry than ever to be so near food and not be able to get it.

It is curious how hunger works on your brain. I am not at all a glutton, and never think of food under ordinary circumstances. But while I was starving I could see before me from morning till night, in my imagination, all kinds of delicacies—caviare, Russian soups, macaroni au gratin, all kinds of refreshing ice-creams, and plum pudding. Curiously enough, some days I had a perfect craving for one particular thing, and would have given anything I possessed in the world to obtain a morsel of it. The next day I did not care for that at all, in my imagination, but wanted something else very badly. The three things which I mostly craved for while I was starving were caviare, galantine of chicken, and ice-cream—the latter particularly.

People say that with money you can do anything you like in the world. I had at that time on my person some £6,000 sterling, of which £4,000 was in actual cash. If anybody had placed before me a morsel of any food I would gladly have given the entire sum to have it. But no, indeed; no such luck! How[312] many times during those days did I vividly dream of delightful dinner and supper parties at the Savoy, the Carlton, or the Ritz, in London, Paris, and New York! How many times did I think of the delicious meals I had had when a boy in the home of my dear father and mother! I could reconstruct in my imagination all those meals, and thought what an idiot I was to have come there out of my own free will to suffer like that. My own dreams were constantly interrupted by Benedicto and Filippe, who also had similar dreams of the wonderful meals they had had in their own houses, and the wonderful ways in which their feijãozinho—a term of endearment used by them for their beloved beans—had been cooked at home by their sweethearts or their temporary wives.

"Why did we leave our feijãozinho"—and here they smacked their lips—"to come and die in this rotten country?"

All day I heard them talk of feijãozinho, feijãozinho, until I was wearied to distraction by that word—particularly as, even when starving, I had no desire whatever to eat the beastly stuff.

The negro Filippe and Benedicto were really brave in a way. I tried to induce them all the time to march as much as we could, so as to get somewhere; but every few moments they sat or fell down, and much valuable time was wasted.

In a way it was amusing to watch them—poor Benedicto particularly, who every few minutes would take out a little pocket looking-glass to gaze at his countenance.

"Am I not thin?" he would ask me a dozen times[313] a day. "I have never been so thin before. If I had not come with you I should not be so thin. It is all because we have no food that I am so thin.... If I had not met you I would never have been so thin!"—and so on all day.

I reminded him that when we were travelling on the river he had complained of baling the water out of the canoe and preferred to travel overland; now that we were travelling overland he had a new complaint to make. It was quite unreasonable. He was not the only one to get thin; we were all getting thin.

Benedicto greatly objected to carry the 15 lb. weight of glass negatives, but he did not mind at all carrying a lot of useless things of his own, which weighed an extra 20 lb. or so!

Since my return I have been constantly asked why, when we were starving, we did not eat the grass in the forest; why we did not feed on the leaves or roots of the trees? If we could find no fruit, why did not we eat monkeys or birds or other animals? why did not we dig for worms and feed on them?

As I have already stated, there were no worms in the forest because of the ants, which allow no insect to be underground near the surface. As for the grass, it takes no very intelligent person to see that it cannot exist under the trees of the tropical forest. If a few blades of grass are to be found on the edge of streamlets it does not follow that you can eat them. That grass is usually poisonous. The same may be said of the leaves and roots of trees, even admitting that you could reach the former—which is not the case,[314] as the leaves are usually at a great height upon the trees, and when you are starving you have not the strength to climb up. It also follows that where there is no edible fruit there can be no birds or monkeys, as animals generally have enough sense not to settle where there is nothing to eat.

Again, even allowing that some rare trees, the fruit of which was edible, were to be found, it does not do to lose sight of the fact that you may be passing under that tree at the season when it is not bearing fruit, as fruit-trees, even in tropical countries, do not always bear fruit at a time to suit the convenience of the passing traveller.

As I have said, the country we were traversing was there hilly and rocky, and we were cutting across the headwaters of numerous tributaries, first of the Tapajoz River, then of the Madeira River—the tiny watercourses, most of them only a few inches wide, descending in numerous successive small cascades over rocks—therefore no fish was to be found. When we did find it in the big rivers we had no way to catch it.

It then again follows, concerning the country between great rivers, that where there is no fish, no game, no fruit, no vegetables, and no possible way of cultivating the land, there can be no inhabitants. That was why the great Brazilian forest in that region was uninhabited by human beings.

It was rather pathetic, looking back on those days, to think of the small cooking pot I carried during that time of starvation in hopes that we might find something to cook. Its weight was not great, but[315] it was a cumbersome thing to carry, as it dangled about and caught in all the vegetation.

As the days went by and our strength got less and less every hour, I decided not to cut the forest any more, but to go through without that extra exertion. As I could not trust my men with the big knife, I had to carry it myself, as occasionally it had to be used—especially near streams, where the vegetation was always more or less entangled.

That evening (September 9th) we had halted at sunset—simply dead with fatigue and exhaustion. The sauba ants had cut nearly all the strings of Filippe's hammock; while he was resting peacefully on it the remainder of the strings broke, and he had a bad fall. He was so exhausted that he remained lying on the ground, swarming all over with ants and moaning the whole time, having no strength to repair the hammock.

When Filippe eventually fell into a sound slumber I had a curious experience in the middle of the night. I was sleeping in my improvised hammock, when I felt two paws resting on my body and something sniffing in my face. When I opened my eyes I found a jaguar, standing up on its hind paws, staring me straight in the face. The moment I moved, the astonished animal, which had evidently never seen a human being before, leapt away and disappeared.

I find that people have strange ideas about wild animals. It is far from true that wild beasts are vicious. I have always found them as gentle as possible. Although I have seen nearly every wild beast that it is possible for man to see in the world, I have never once[316] been attacked by them, although on dozens of occasions I have come into close contact with them. I invariably found all wild animals—except the African buffalo—quite timid and almost gentle, unless, of course, they have been worried or wounded. These remarks do not apply to wild animals in captivity.

On September 10th—that was the seventh day of our involuntary fast—we had another dreary march, again without a morsel of food. My men were so downhearted that I really thought they would not last much longer. Hunger was playing on them in a curious way. They said that they could hear voices all round them and people firing rifles. I could hear nothing at all. I well knew that their minds were beginning to go, and that it was a pure hallucination. Benedicto and Filippe, who originally were both atheists of an advanced type, had now become extremely religious, and were muttering fervent prayers all the time. They made a vow that if we escaped alive they would each give £5 sterling out of their pay to have a big mass celebrated in the first church they saw.

They spoke in a disconnected way, and looked about in a dazed condition, alternating hysterical laughter with abundant tears. After Filippe's tobacco had come to an end he had become most dejected, all the time wishing to commit suicide.

"What is the use of more suffering?" he exclaimed fifty times a day. "Let me die quickly, as I can stand the pain no more!" Then all of a sudden his eyes would shine, he would prick up his ears, crying: "We are near people!—we are near people! I can hear voices! Let us fire three shots" (the[317] signal all over Central Brazil of an approaching stranger or of help required), "so that people can come to our assistance!"

That was much easier said than done, because none of our cartridges would go off. We had one box of matches left. We had taken several boxes of them, but Filippe had used them all in lighting his cigarettes, and we had only one left, which I guarded with much care. To please my men we lighted a big fire, and in it we placed a number of cartridges so that they should explode. In fact some of them actually did explode, and my men strained their ears in order to discover responding sounds. But no sounds came, although they imagined they could hear all kinds of noises.

At this place I abandoned the few cartridges we had, as they were absolutely useless. They were Mauser cartridges which I had bought in Rio de Janeiro, and it is quite possible that they were counterfeits.

Taking things all round, my men behaved very well, but these were moments of the greatest anxiety for me, and I myself was praying fervently to God to get us out of that difficulty. My strength was failing more and more daily, and although I was suffering no actual pain, yet the weakness was simply appalling. It was all I could do to stand up on my legs. What was worse for me was that my head was still in good working order, and I fully realised our position all the time.

The country we were travelling over was fairly hilly, up and down most of the time, over no great elevations. We passed two large tributaries of the[318] main stream we had found before, and a number of minor ones. The main stream was strewn with fallen trees, and was not navigable during the dry season. The erosion of the banks by the water had caused so many trees to fall down across it that no canoe could possibly go through.

I noticed in one or two places along the river traces of human beings having been there some years before.

In the afternoon we again wasted much energy in knocking down two palm-trees on the summit of which were great bunches of coco do matto. Again we had a bitter disappointment. One after the other we split the nuts open, but they merely contained water inside shells that were much harder to crack than wood. My craving for food was such that in despair I took two or three sauba ants and proceeded to eat them. When I ground them under my teeth their taste was so acidly bitter that it made me quite ill. Not only that, but one sauba bit my tongue so badly that it swelled up to a great size, and remained like that for several days. The entire genus of the Sauba (Œcodonia cephalotes) ant is typical of tropical South America. The largest Sauba is about an inch long, and possesses powerful scissor-like clippers, with which it can destroy any material, such as leather, cloth, paper or leaves, in a very short time. Their method of work is to cut up everything into circles. I remember one day dropping on the ground a pair of thick gloves. When I went to pick them up I found them reduced to a heap of innumerable little discs—each as large as a sixpenny coin. It is[319] with those powerful clippers that the Saubas, having climbed in swarms up a tree, proceed to despoil it of its foliage. The work is done in a systematic way, each ant quickly severing one leaf and carrying it down, banner-like, vertically above its head, tightly held between its strong mandibles.

It is this habit of the Saubas which has brought upon them the Brazilian name of Carregadores, or carriers. One sees everywhere in that country long processions of those destructive insects, each individual marching along quickly with its green vegetable banner, sometimes eight or ten times its own size and weight. In many cases the Saubas working aloft cut the leaves and drop them on the ground, where other carriers are waiting to convey them away. So numerous are the Saubas that in the forest one can hear distinctly the incessant rustling sound of their clippers at work. The Saubas use the leaves in order to construct thatched waterproof roofs over the domes and turrets at the entrances of their extensive subterranean galleries, which would otherwise become flooded during the torrential rains prevalent in those latitudes. The roofs are constructed with wonderful skill, each leaf being held in its place by granules of earth. The galleries, of immense length and much ramified, are often as much as 10 to 15 cm. in diameter. The entrances to them are usually kept blocked, and are only opened when necessary. Above ground the Saubas make wonderful wide roads, thousands of which can be seen everywhere in the forest, and upon which endless processions go by day and night. The workers of the Saubas can be[320] divided into three orders not very clearly defined, as units of intermediate grades are constantly met. The largest of those workers possess extraordinarily massive, double-humped heads, highly polished in the case of members which are visible on the surface, and dull and hairy in the giant fellows which spend their lives within the subterranean passages. These hairy Saubas display a single frontal eye—not found in any of the other Saubas, and, as far as I know, in no other kind of ant. They never come to the surface except when attacks are made upon the galleries. Great excitement is shown in the colonies when the winged ants, of extra large size—especially the females—start out on their errand of propagating the race.

The workers with polished heads—fierce-looking brutes—do very little actual work, but seem to be the superiors and protectors of the smaller workers. In every case the body of all orders of Saubas is solidly built, with the thorax and head protected by spikes.

Much as I disliked the Saubas for the endless trouble and suffering they inflicted upon me, I could not help admiring their marvellous industry and energy. No agriculture is possible where the Saubas are to be found, and even where they do not exist in Central Brazil, if agriculture were started they would soon invade the territory and destroy everything in a short time. Foreign plants do not escape. No way has been found yet of extirpating them.

[321]

## CHAPTER XX

Benedicto and the Honey—Constantly collapsing from Exhaustion—A Strange Accident—Finding a River—People's Mistaken Ideas—Sixteen Days of Starvation—An Abandoned Hut—Repairing a Broken-down Canoe—Canoe founders—A Raft constructed of Glass

On September 11th we had another terrible march, the forest being very dense and much entangled along the stream. We had great trouble in getting through, as there were many palms and ferns, and we had no more strength to cut down our way. We came to a big tree, which was hollow inside up to a great height, and round which were millions of bees.

Benedicto, who was a great connoisseur in such matters, said that high up inside the tree there must be honey. The bees round that tree were unfortunately stinging bees. We drew lots as to who should go inside the tree to get the honey. It fell to Benedicto. We took off most of our clothes and wrapped up his head and legs so that he might proceed to the attack. The job was not an easy one, for in the first reconnaissance he made with his head inside the tree he discovered that the honey must be not less than 20 ft. above the ground, and it was necessary to climb up to that height inside the tree before he could get it. In order to hasten matters—as Benedicto was reluctant in carrying out the job—I tried my hand at it, but[322] I was stung badly by hundreds of bees behind my head, on my eyelids, on my arms and legs. When I came out of the tree I was simply covered with angry bees, which stung me all over. So I told Benedicto that, as Fate had called upon him to do the work, he had better do it.

Benedicto was certainly very plucky that day. All of a sudden he dashed inside the tree and proceeded to climb up. We heard wild screams for some minutes; evidently the bees were protecting their home well. While Filippe and I were seated outside, smiling faintly at poor Benedicto's plight, he reappeared. We hardly recognized him when he emerged from the tree, so badly stung and swollen was his face, notwithstanding the protection he had over it. All he brought back was a small piece of the honeycomb about as large as a florin. What little honey there was inside was quite putrid, but we divided it into three equal parts and devoured it ravenously, bees and all. A moment later all three of us were seized with vomiting, so that the meagre meal was worse than nothing to us.

We were then in a region of innumerable liane, which hung from the trees and caught our feet and heads, and wound themselves round us when we tried to shift them from their position. Nearly all the trees in that part had long and powerful spikes. Then near water there were huge palms close together, the sharp-edged leaves of which cut our hands, faces and legs as we pushed our way through.

A violent storm broke out in the afternoon. The rain was torrential, making our march extremely difficult. It was just like marching under a heavy[323] shower-bath. The rain lasted for some three hours. We crossed one large stream flowing west into the Secundury, and also two other good-sized streamlets.

We had a miserable night, drenched as we were and unable to light a fire, the box of matches having got wet and the entire forest being soaked by the torrential storm. During the night another storm arrived and poured regular buckets of water upon us.

On September 12th we drowsily got up from our hammocks in a dejected state. By that time we had lost all hope of finding food, and no longer took the trouble to look round for anything to eat. We went on a few hundred metres at a time, now Benedicto fainting from exhaustion, then Filippe, then myself. While one or another was unconscious much time was wasted. Marching under those conditions was horrible, as either one or other of us collapsed every few hundred metres.

Another violent storm broke out, and we all lay on the ground helpless, the skin of our hands and feet getting shrivelled up with the moisture.

My feet were much swollen owing to the innumerable thorns which had got into them while walking barefooted. It was most painful to march, as I was not accustomed to walk without shoes.

We went only ten kilometres on September 12th. We crossed two small rivers and one large, flowing west and south, evidently into the Secundury.

On September 13th we had another painful march, my men struggling along, stumbling and falling every little while. They were dreadfully depressed. Towards[324] the evening we came to a big tree, at the foot of which we found some discarded shells, such as we had once seen before, of fruit eaten by monkeys. My men and I tried to scrape with our teeth some of the sweet substance which still adhered to the shells. We saw some of the fruit, which was fit to eat, at a great height upon the tree, but we had not the strength to climb up or cut down that enormous tree.

All the visions of good meals which I had had until then had now vanished altogether on that tenth day of fasting, and I experienced a sickly feeling in my inside which gave me an absolute dislike for food of any kind. My head was beginning to sway, and I had difficulty in collecting my ideas. My memory seemed to be gone all of a sudden. I could no longer remember in what country I was travelling, nor could I remember anything distinctly. Only some lucid intervals came every now and then, in which I realised our tragic position; but those did not last long, all I could remember being that I must go to the west. I could not remember why nor where I intended to come out.

Everything seemed to be against us. We were there during the height of the rainy season. Towards sunset rain came down once more in bucketfuls and lasted the entire night, the water dripping from our hammocks as it would from a small cascade. We were soaked, and shivering, although the temperature was not low. I had my maximum and minimum thermometers with me, but my exhaustion was such that I had not the strength to unpack them every night and morning and set them.

[325] We crossed two streamlets flowing west. Benedicto and Filippe were in such a bad way that it was breaking my heart to look at them. Every time they fell down in a faint I never knew whether it was for the last time that they had closed their eyes. When I felt their hearts with my hand they beat so faintly that once or twice I really thought they were dead. That day I myself fainted, and fell with the left side of my face resting on the ground. When I recovered consciousness some time later, I touched my face, which was hurting me, and found that nearly the whole skin of my cheek had been eaten up by small ants, the lower lid of the eye having suffered particularly. A nasty sore remained on my face for some two months after that experience, the bites of those ants being very poisonous.

Bad as they were, there is no doubt that to a great extent we owed our salvation to those terrible ants. Had it not been for them and the incessant torture they inflicted on us when we fell down upon the ground, we should have perhaps lain there and never got up again.

I offered Benedicto and Filippe a large reward if they continued marching without abandoning the precious loads. Brazilians have a great greed for money, and for it they will do many things which they would not do otherwise.

On September 14th we made another most painful march of 20 kil., again up and down high hills, some as much as 300 ft. above the level land of that country, and all with steep, indeed, almost vertical, sides, extremely difficult for us to climb in our exhausted[326] condition. We saw several streamlets flowing west. When evening came we had before us a high hill, which we ascended. When we reached the top we just lay upon the ground like so many corpses, and, ants, or no ants biting us, we had not the energy to get up again. Once more did the rain come down in torrents that night, and to a certain extent washed the ants from our bodies.

My surprise was really great the next morning when I woke up. I felt myself fading away fast. Every time I closed my eyes I expected never to open them again.

On September 15th we made another trying march, collapsing under our loads every few hundred metres. My men were constantly looking for something to eat in all directions, but could find nothing. Benedicto and Filippe were now all the time contemplating suicide. The mental strain of perpetually keeping an eye on them was great.

We were sitting down, too tired to get up, when Filippe amazed me considerably by the following words, which he spoke in a kind of reverie:

"It would be very easy," he said, "now that you have no more strength yourself, for us two to get the big knife and cut your throat. We know that you have a big, big sum of money upon you, and if we robbed you we would be rich for ever. But we do not want to do it. It would not be much use to us, as we could not get out of the forest alone. I believe we shall all die together, and all that money will go to waste."

Filippe said this in quite a good-natured manner.[327] The two poor fellows were so depressed that one had to forgive them for anything they said.

As the river seemed to describe a big loop, I had left it three days before, seeing plainly by the conformation of the country that we should strike it again sooner or later. We were marching once more by compass. My men, who had no faith whatever in the magnetic needle, were again almost paralysed with fear that we might not encounter the stream again. A thousand times a day they accused me of foolishness in leaving the river, as they said it would have been better to follow its tortuous course—notwithstanding the trouble we had in following it, owing to the dense vegetation near the water—rather than strike once more across country. They were beginning to lose heart altogether, when I told them I could see by the vegetation that we were once more near the water. Anybody accustomed as I am to marching through the forest could tell easily by the appearance of the vegetation some miles before actually getting to a stream.

I reassured my companions, saying that within a few hours we should certainly meet the "big water" again. In fact, not more than half an hour afterwards we suddenly found ourselves once more on the large stream—at that point 70 metres wide.

My men were so amazed and delighted that they embraced me and sobbed over my shoulders for some time. From that moment their admiration for the compass was unbounded; they expected me to find anything with it.

With gladdened hearts we followed the stream[328] again, Benedicto and Filippe shouting at the top of their voices for help in case anybody were near. But they called and called in vain. We listened, but not a sound could be heard, except perhaps that of a crashing tree in the forest—a sound very familiar when marching across Brazil.

The right bank of the Secundury river was high, not less than from 30 to 40 ft., and extremely steep, formed of alluvial deposits with a thick surface layer of decayed vegetation, making a soft carpet. Two small tributary streams had cut deep grooves in the soft earth. In our weak condition we had the greatest trouble in going down the almost vertical banks and climbing up again on the other side.

On September 16th we followed the river once more, crossing three tributaries, the largest of which was 4 m. wide. The forest was beautifully clean underneath, just like a well-kept park. The stems of the trees were as clean as possible up to a great height, the foliage forming a regular roof over us through which little light and only exhausted air penetrated.

Although we could find nothing whatever to eat, my men were not so depressed that day, as they expected to find some living people sooner or later. I did not like to disappoint them, although the fact that we could find no signs of human creatures having recently gone through that region showed me plainly that we were yet far away from salvation.

Another formidable rainstorm came down upon us in the morning, the water descending in regular sheets. We were so exhausted that we did not care[329] for anything any more. Whether we got wet or dry was quite immaterial to us.

I was so conscious of my utmost exhaustion that I felt I could not now last much longer under that heavy strain. Every fifty or a hundred metres I collapsed under my load, and had the greatest struggle to get up on my feet again. Those marches were most tragic, my men being, if possible, in a worse condition than me, they, too, collapsing every few steps. Thus in a day we each collapsed dozens of times. That was the thirteenth day we had had no food whatever, barring perhaps a grain of salt from the fraudulent anchovy tin, which I had preserved in a piece of paper.

I felt no actual pain, only great emptiness in my inside, and a curious feeling of nausea, with no wish whatever to eat or to drink. Although water was plentiful we hardly touched it at all—only a few drops to moisten our feverish lips. That fact interested me greatly, as it was absolutely contrary to people's notions of what happens when you are starving. All I experienced was indescribable exhaustion. I felt myself gradually extinguishing like a burnt-out lamp.

Benedicto and Filippe had dreadful nightmares during the night, and occasionally gave frantic yells. That night Filippe all of a sudden startled us crying out for help; a moment later he collapsed in a faint. When he recovered I asked him what was the matter; he said in a dazed way that there were people all round us bringing plenty of food to us—an hallucination which was soon dispelled when he returned to his senses.

[330] On September 17th we had another painful march without finding a grain of food to eat. Again we started our day with a severe thunderstorm, the water coming down upon us in bucketfuls. Benedicto and Filippe were fervently praying the Almighty to strike them down by lightning so as to end the daily torture.

The strain of leading those fellows on was getting almost too much for me. The greatest gentleness had to be employed, as an angry word would have finished them altogether, and they would have laid down to die.

The rain came down in such torrents that day, and we were so soaked, that we had to halt, we three huddling together to try and protect ourselves under the waterproof sheet which I used at night as a hammock. When we went on I noticed a cut in a tree which had been made some years before. I soon discovered the tracks which had been followed by the person who had made that cut, and soon after I discovered another mark of a knife upon another rubber tree. Evidently somebody had been there prospecting. We followed the ancient track for some distance in a most winding way—those marks, I judged, having been made about four years before.

My men were depressed to the utmost degree when, on following the track of the stranger, we discovered the spot on the river where he had evidently once more got into his canoe and gone. One more hope of salvation shattered!

Curiously enough, upon that fourteenth day of starving my strength got up again to a certain extent, although I still had no wish whatever to eat; but my head began to swim with a strange sensation as if[331] the trees of the forest were tumbling down upon me. The impression was so vivid that several times I fell in trying to avoid what I thought was a tree falling upon me.

The swaying of my head seemed to get worse and worse all that day, until the unpleasant sensation of the forest closing in and overwhelming me became intolerable.

In the evening we came in for another storm, the rain being torrential through nearly the entire night. During the day I had had the optical illusion of trees falling upon me. During the night I had the real thing. The upper part of the tree to which I had tied my hammock came down with a terrific crash during a heavy gust of wind, and just missed my head by a few inches. As it was it tore down my hammock with me inside it, and I received a bump that I shall not forget in a hurry.

We certainly seemed to have no luck whatever on that fateful expedition! Aching all over, soaked right through, water dripping down my hands, nose and hair like so many little fountains, I proceeded to tie my hammock to another tree, while poor Filippe and Benedicto, who had been caught in the foliage and branches of the falling tree, were trying to disentangle themselves from their unpleasant position. The tree had fallen because it had been eaten up internally by ants. When it came down upon us they simply swarmed over us, and bit us all over for all they were worth. I have no wish whatever to have another such miserable night.

On September 18th we lost the whole morning[332] owing to the torrential rain which continued. We had not the strength to go on.

Now that Filippe and Benedicto had absolute faith in my compass, I had again left the river where it described a big turn toward the south-west, and it was not until two o'clock that afternoon that I struck the big stream once more and we followed its right bank.

To our great delight we came to a small clearing where some years before mandioca had been cultivated. We threw down our loads at once and proceeded to search for roots. To our great joy we found one small root, about as big as a small carrot. We made a fire. Oh! the anxiety in lighting up that fire, as we only had eight matches left, and they had got damp.

Filippe, who was the expert in striking matches, was entrusted with the job. Alas! he struck and struck time after time the first match against the box until its head was worn off altogether, and no flame was produced. With some anxiety we watched the second match having a similar fate.

The men said that the root we had found was of wild mandioca, and if we ate it raw we should certainly all die, but if roasted properly over a flame it lost some of its poisonous qualities. We all had our eyes fixed on that root, and felt the happiest of mortals, as if the most expensive banquet had all of a sudden been placed before us. It was a great relief when Filippe struck the third match and it actually produced a flame. We lighted a fire, roasting the valuable root upon it.

[333] Benedicto, who was the culinary expert, roasted the root until it was nearly carbonized, and by the time he took it out of the flame we had each of us left for our share a section of its fibrous core not larger than a well-smoked cigarette stump.

We devoured that luxurious meal in haste. It tasted as bitter as aloes. No sooner had I eaten it than I felt extremely ill, my men also experiencing a similar sensation. Benedicto was the first one to vomit painfully and cough violently; then came my turn, then Filippe's. So our first meal was not much of a success.

The little strength we had seemed now to have disappeared altogether. We lay helpless upon the bank of the river, unable to move. Once or twice Filippe shouted for help, thinking that our voices might be heard, but no answer ever came to our cries.

Eventually we proceeded once more along the right bank of the river, when we perceived on the opposite bank an abandoned hut. The river at that point was 70 m. wide, from 4 to 5 ft. deep, with a fairly strong current. We decided to cross over and see if perhaps by chance some food had been abandoned in the hut. It was already evening, and we were so exhausted that we did not dare to cross the stream, especially as Filippe and Benedicto could not swim.

The next day, September 19th, we proceeded to ford the stream, having scarcely the strength to keep erect, especially in the middle of the river with the water up to our necks. We were carrying our loads on our heads, so that they should not get wetter than possible. My negatives were fortunately in air-tight[334] cases, or else they certainly would have been destroyed altogether on that disastrous march across the forest.

We got safely to the other side. The bank was very high. A broken-down canoe had been left on the shore. We worked many hours trying to mend her so that we could proceed down the river. But we wasted the entire day, working feverishly for six or seven hours, trying to stop up great holes as big as my fist, one sleeve of my coat being used for the purpose, and replacing a plank at her stern which was missing.

When we at length summoned our last atom of strength to launch her, she immediately filled with water and went to the bottom like a piece of lead. That was the end of the canoe. We had not the strength to float her again.

Building a raft was impossible, as no wood was found that floated. In reconnoitring round the hut, to our great joy we discovered some caju and some guyaba trees; also some more roots of mandioca now become wild.

That was our sixteenth day of fasting, and it can well be imagined how quickly we devoured what little unripe fruit was hanging from the trees. Once more we tried the experiment of cooking the mandioca roots. We had now only five matches left. It was curious to note with what care we prepared dried wood and leaves so that no chance would be lost in getting a flame. Fortunately the first match struck did its work well, and we soon had a big fire inside the hut, on which we roasted the mandioca.

As I have explained elsewhere, the fruit of the caju[335] has an outward nut which has highly caustic properties, and is deadly poisonous to eat uncooked but quite edible when roasted. After eating all the fruit we kept those nuts and put them on the fire; in the evening we sat down to what seemed to us a luxuriant meal.

We had not patience to wait for the caju nuts to be properly roasted. When I ate them my nose, lips, tongue and fingers became badly burned by their caustic juice. No sooner had we eaten that meal than we all became violently ill. I dropped down unconscious, rejecting everything and quantities of blood besides. I must have been unconscious many hours, after which I slept soundly till the sun was well up in the sky, when I found myself resting on the ground with a pool of blood by my side. Poor Filippe and Benedicto were also in a bad way.

On the front of that hut on a piece of board was written "El Paraiso" (Paradise), the name of that place. It was not exactly my idea of Heaven.

Our first meals were worse than no meals at all. We felt in such a plight that we lay helpless upon the floor of the hut, quite unable to move, so exhausted were we. In turning my head around I discovered ten large demijohns, some 2½ ft. high and about 2 ft. in diameter, of thick green glass. They were the usual demijohns—garaffons, as they are called—used all over Brazil for "fire-water." I at once conceived the idea of using them as floats in the construction of a raft.

My men grinned contemptuously at the idea when I mentioned it to them. They said that all was over.[336] It was no use trying to get away. The Almighty wanted us to die, and we must only lie there and await our end, which was not far off. Benedicto struggled to his knees and prayed to the Almighty and the Virgin, sobbing bitterly all the time.

I struggled up on my feet and proceeded to carry the big vessels to the river bank, where I intended to construct the raft. The effort to take each heavy bottle those few metres seemed almost beyond me in my exhausted state. At last I proceeded to strip the floor of the hut, which had been made with split assahy palms (Euterpe oleracea L.), in order that I might make a frame to which I could fasten the bottles. With a great deal of persuasion I got Filippe and Benedicto to help me. The long pieces of assahy were too heavy for our purpose, and we had the additional trouble of splitting each piece into four. It was most trying work in our worn-out condition. Then we had to go into the forest and collect some small liane, so that we could tie the pieces together, as we had no nails and no rope.

On September 20th, again without food—for we had eaten up all the fruit the previous day—we worked from morning till night in building the raft. Unfortunately, Benedicto stumbled against one of the bottles, which was on the edge of the river; it rolled down the steep bank and floated quickly down stream, and we saw it disappear, unable to go and recover it. So only nine bottles were left.

Raft constructed by the Author in order to navigate the Canuma River with his Two Companions of Starvation.

I made the raft of a triangular shape, with two parallel diagonal rows of three bottles each at a distance of 3 ft. apart; then one set of two bottles.[337] One single garaffon formed the bow of the raft. Naturally I stopped up the necks of the bottles, so that no water should get inside.

While I was constructing the raft I was all the time wondering whether it would have a sufficient floating capacity to carry us three men and our baggage.

When the raft was finished we placed two parallel pieces of assahy from one end to the other, on which we could sit astride, with our legs dangling in the water.

The lassitude with which we did our work and tore down part of the hut in order to build that raft, our only way of salvation, was too pitiful to watch. We absolutely had no strength at all. When we pulled the liane to fasten together the different pieces of palm wood we were more exhausted than if we had lifted a weight of 200 lb. As it was, we could not fasten the pieces of wood properly, and when the raft was finished it was indeed a shaky affair.

By sunset on September 20th the raft—strengthened by sundry knots all over—was ready to be launched. I was more proud of her than if I had built a Dreadnought. There we all sat by the side of her, my men looking at her in a sceptical way, saying that it was just as well, perhaps, to try and die drowned instead of dying of starvation.

We took a last glance around to see if we could discover some other fruit or something to eat, but we found nothing. We postponed the launching of our vessel—which I named the Victory—until the next morning, as had she perchance had an accident that night—accidents at night seem so much worse[338] than in the daytime—it would have been too severe a blow for us, from which we never could have recovered.

My feet were in such a terrible condition—so full of thorns, so swollen with numberless jiggers which had bored channels under my nails and under the soles—that I really felt I could not walk another step. If that raft did not float I knew that we were lost for good.

The entire night I could not sleep, speculating on whether the raft would float or not. As far as I could judge, she seemed to me to have just capacity enough to keep afloat with all of us on board.

[339]

## CHAPTER XXI

The Launching of the Glass Raft—Accidents—The Raft sinking—Saved—Our First Solid Meal—Its Consequences—The Canuma and Secundury Rivers—Marching Back across the Forest to the Relief of the Men left behind—A Strange Mishap—A Curious Case of Telepathy

On September 21st my men had a great discussion. Their courage failed altogether, as they said they had never before seen a boat of that kind, made of glass bottles, and that, even allowing that she would float at all, if we struck a rock where should we be? They declared that, tired as they were, they preferred to go on struggling on foot through the forest rather than get drowned. With his peculiar reasoning, Benedicto said that it was bad enough to die of starvation, but to die of starvation and get drowned as well was too much for him!

It was decided that we should first of all try whether the raft would bear our weight or not. If she did, we would sail in her. If she did not, I would navigate her and they might go on foot.

It was a moment of great excitement and suspense when we launched the Victory. You should have seen the faces of Benedicto and Filippe when she floated on the water as gracefully as a duck. I got on her, and with a punting pole went half-way across the river and back again.

[340] Filippe and Benedicto, who had hardly recovered from their astonishment, professed that it was the cleverest thing they had ever seen, and no Brazilian ever would have had such a brilliant idea. They were now anxious to get on board.

First Filippe came and sat himself in front of me, and I saw with some concern the raft sink down considerably into the water. When Benedicto also entered, the framework of our vessel absolutely disappeared under water and only the short necks of the bottles showed above the surface. As we sat astride on the narrow longitudinal platform we were knee-deep in water. We took another small trip in mid-stream, and then decided that we would put the baggage on board and start at once on our journey down the river.

I went back for the baggage and rolled it all up in the waterproof hammock, then fastened it with pieces of liane to the stern of the raft. Filippe and Benedicto fastened their own things also. Having made ourselves some primitive-looking paddles with the bottom of a small empty barrel we had found, which we attached to two sticks, we made ready to start.

Canoe made of the Bark of the Burity Palm.

Indians of the Madeira River.

Filippe and I had already got on board, when Benedicto appeared with a huge punting pole he had cut himself in case we might need it. He was excited over the prospect of having no more walking to do. When he got near he jumped on board so clumsily that the already too heavily laden raft turned over and we were all flung into the water—there 7 ft. deep. When I came to the surface again I just managed[341] to pull the craft ashore and then proceeded to save Benedicto and Filippe, who were struggling in the water, which was too deep for them.

This mishap was unfortunate. My chronometer got full of water and stopped; the aneroids, the camera, all were injured beyond repair. Much to my distress, I also discovered that the watertight cases, which had been knocked about so much of late, had let the water through before I had time to turn the raft the right way up and pull out of the water the baggage which was fastened to it. The four hundred developed negatives had all got soaked. My note-books, too, were drenched through.

Another heavy task was before me now, in order to save all that valuable material. It was to spread everything to dry thoroughly in the wind before it could be packed again.

Filippe and Benedicto were so scared that on no account, they said, would they go on board that raft again. The accident occurred at about nine o'clock in the morning; by one or two o'clock in the afternoon everything was dry and carefully repacked.

We decided to make a fresh start. My feet were so swollen, and with hardly a patch of skin left on them, that I could walk no more. It was agreed that Filippe and Benedicto should go on walking along the left bank as much as possible, while I alone, with the baggage, navigated the river. We would keep in touch by occasional shouts.

I got along pretty well, floating down with the current; but paddling and punting were most difficult, the raft being almost impossible to steer. On several[342] occasions I had narrow escapes, just avoiding striking dangerous rocks—particularly going down a small corrideira.

After I had gone about two kilometres I was so exhausted that I called to Filippe to come on board again. Eventually—and I must say that I admired his courage—he came on board, and the two of us proceeded quite well down the stream, one paddling, the other punting.

We got into a small rapid, where the current was strong. We were unfortunately thrown violently against some rocks, the central bottles of our raft receiving a hard knock. One of them cracked badly. I was quite perplexed when my eye caught sight of the radiations in the glass caused by the impact. Then my ear began to notice the sound of the trickling of water getting inside the bottle. With positive concern, as the garaffon was gradually filling, I saw the raft getting a bad list to port.

The broken garaffon was behind Filippe's back, and he could not see it. He was constantly asking me whether something had gone wrong, as he seemed to feel the water getting higher and higher up his body.

"Is the ship not sinking?" he asked every two minutes. "I now have water up to my waist."

"No, no, Filippe! Go on. It is all right!" were the words with which I kept on urging him.

The cracked bottle had got almost entirely filled with water, and we had such a bad list that the steering became most difficult. Two or three times again we were thrown by the current against other rocks, and another bottle had a similar fate.

[343] "We are sinking, are we not?" shouted Filippe.

"No, no!" said I. "Go on!"

As I said those words it suddenly seemed to me that I heard voices in the distance. Was it Benedicto calling to us? Filippe and I listened. Surely there was somebody singing! We fancied we heard several voices. Had Benedicto met somebody in the forest?

"Benedicto! Benedicto!" we shouted out to him. "Have you found men?"

"No!" came the answer from Benedicto.

All of a sudden Filippe, whose eyes had been scanning the river in front of him, gave a violent jerk which nearly capsized the raft, exclaiming:

"Look! look! There is a canoe!"

"It is a rock," said I, as I screened my eye to look on the dazzling water, upon which the sun glittered so that it was almost impossible to perceive anything. But, sure enough, as I strained my eyes a second time, I saw something move, and a moment later I heard voices quite distinctly.

Filippe's joy and mine was intense when we perceived that not only one boat, but two—three canoes were approaching.

We had already travelled some eight kilometres on our raft when we came close to the boats we had observed. Their crews stood up in them, rifles in hand, as we floated down. I shouted that we were friends. Eventually they came to our help, their amazement being curious to watch as they got near us—they being unable to understand how we could float down the river merely by sitting on the surface.[344] By that time the raft was almost altogether submerged. When they took us on board, and a portion of the raft came to the surface again, the amusement of those crews was intense.

I explained who we were. The strangers could not do enough for us. In a moment they unloaded the baggage from our craft and put it on board their boats. They halted near the right bank, and on hearing of our pitiful plight immediately proceeded to cook a meal for us.

The people belonged to the rubber-collecting expedition of a trader named Dom Pedro Nunes, who went only once every year with a fleet of boats up to the headwaters of that river in order to bring back rubber. The expedition—the only one that ever went up that river at all—took eight or ten months on the journey there and back. It was really an amazing bit of luck that we should owe our salvation to meeting that expedition in an almost miraculous way, brought about by an extraordinary series of fortunate coincidences.

Had we not constructed that raft—had we not been on board at that moment—we should have missed the expedition and certainly should have died. Had we been following the bank of the river on foot, we never could have seen the boats nor heard them, as the banks were extremely high, and it was never possible to keep close to the stream when marching in the forest; we always had to keep some hundred metres or so from the water in order to avoid the thick vegetation on the edge of the stream. In fact, Benedicto, who was walking in the forest along the[345] stream, had gone past the boats and had neither heard nor seen them. When we shouted out to him he was already a long distance off, a boat sent out to him by Dom Pedro Nunes having to travel nearly 800 m. before it could get up to him and bring him back.

The trader and his men treated us with tender care. We were practically naked when they met us, my attire consisting of the leather belt with the bags of money round my waist, and a small portion of the sleeveless coat, all torn to pieces. Dom Pedro Nunes immediately gave me some clothes, while his men gave garments to Filippe and Benedicto.

Several men rushed about collecting wood, and in a moment a large flame was blazing. The sight of proper food brought back our appetites as by magic. Our ravenous eyes gazed on several big pieces of anta (Tapirus americanus) meat, through which a stick had been passed, being broiled over the flame. We three starving men did not take our eyes off that meat for a second until the man who was cooking it removed the stick and said the meat was ready. We pounced upon it like so many famished tigers. The meat was so hot that, as we tore away at the large pieces with our teeth, our lips, noses, and fingers were absolutely burned by the broiling fat.

Dom Pedro Nunes gently put his hand in front of me, saying "Do not eat so quickly; it is bad for you." But I pushed him away with what vigour I had left. I could have killed anybody who had stood between that piece of meat and me. I tore at it lustily with my teeth, until there was nothing left of it.

[346] By that time a large bag of farinha had been spread before us. We grabbed handfuls of it, shoving them into our mouths as fast as we could.

The sensation of eating—normal food—after such a long fast was a delightful one. But only for a few moments. Pedro Nunes was just handing me a cup of coffee when I dropped down unconscious, rejecting everything with a quantity of blood besides.

When I recovered consciousness, Pedro Nunes said I had been unconscious for a long time. They all thought I was dead. I felt almost unbearable pain in my inside, and a lassitude as if life were about to be extinguished altogether.

It was evidently the reaction, after eating too quickly—and I should like to meet the healthy man who would not eat quickly under those circumstances—and also the relaxation from the inconceivable strain of so many weeks of mental worry.

I well remember how Pedro Nunes and his men, when standing around us just as we began eating that first solid meal, had tears streaming down their cheeks while watching us in our dreadful plight. Once more Pedro Nunes—one of the most kindly men I have ever met—sobbed bitterly when he asked me to take off my clothes and change them for the newer ones he had given me. I removed from my pocket the contents: my chronometer, a notebook, and a number of caju seeds which I had collected, and which, caustic or not caustic, would have been our only food until we should have certainly perished.

We heard from Pedro Nunes that it would have taken us at least six or seven days' steady walking[347] before we could get to the first house of rubber collectors. In our exhausted condition we could have never got there. As for the damaged raft, it could not have floated more than a few hours longer—perhaps not so long.

From the spot where I met Pedro Nunes—quite close to the junction of the Canuma River with the Madeira River—going down by river it would have been possible to reach Manaos in two or three days. Dom Pedro Nunes, however, with his expedition, could not return, nor sell me a boat, nor lend me men; so that I thought my best plan was to go back with him up the River Canuma and then the Secundury River, especially when I heard from the trader that the latter river came from the south-east—which made me think that perhaps I might find a spot at its most south-easterly point where the distance would not be great to travel once more across the forest, back to my men whom I had left near the Tapajoz.

Pedro Nunes declined to receive payment for the clothes he had given me and my men, so I presented him with the Mauser I possessed, which he greatly appreciated; while I gave the crew which had rescued us a present of £20 sterling in Brazilian money.

It was most touching to see how some of the rubber collectors employed by Pedro Nunes deprived themselves of tins of jam to present them to us, and also of other articles which were useful to them in order to make us a little more comfortable.

I purchased from Pedro Nunes a quantity of provisions—all of an inferior kind, but they were the best[348] I could get. Among them were six tins of condensed milk, all he possessed, for which I paid at the rate of ten shillings each—the regular price in that neighbourhood. Those tins of milk were a great joy to Benedicto, Filippe and myself.

Although the pain was violent when we ate anything, the craving for food was now quite insatiable, and we could not resist the temptation of eating whatever came under our hands.

Late in the afternoon of that same day we started up the river with Pedro Nunes and his fleet of boats. In the evening, when we camped, the kindness of the trader and his men towards us was most pathetic. Drenching rain fell during the night.

On September 22nd we made an early start. Pedro Nunes went away in a small boat, as he wanted to go and explore a small tributary of the Secundury. The expedition travelled up the main stream at a great pace, with the many men who were rowing and punting.

Filippe, Benedicto and I suffered horrible internal pains that day owing to our careless eating the previous afternoon.

Caripuna Indians.

Indian Idols of the Putumayo District.

I was greatly worried by the man who had been left in charge of the expedition—a man of extreme kindness, but an incessant talker. He spoke so loudly, repeating the same things over and over again, that in my weak state, and accustomed as we were to the deathly silence of the forest, it tired me inexpressibly. His conversation consisted entirely of accusing everybody he knew of being robbers and assassins, and in long descriptions, with numberless figures, to show[349] how he had been robbed of small sums of money by various people he had met in his lifetime.

I presented him with £10 sterling, hoping that he would keep quiet, as that seemed to be the entire sum of which he had been robbed by his relatives and friends; also because on seeing our wretched condition, he had presented me with an enormous pair of shoes, about six sizes too large for me. When I walked in them, especially up and down the steep banks, I lost now one shoe, now the other, so big were they. But I was grateful to him, as he would not take payment for them, and they saved my feet to a certain extent—when I could keep them on—from the thorns, which were numerous in that region.

The prolonged immersion in the water the day before, while we were navigating the raft, and the subsequent rest, had caused my feet to swell enormously, my ankles being about three times their normal size, so swollen were they. I experienced an unbearable pain in my heart, with continuous heart-burning and sudden throbbings, succeeded by spells of exhaustion. Giddiness in my head was constant, and I was so weak that it was all I could do to move. Even the exertion of shifting from one side to the other of the boat on which I was travelling was enough to make me almost collapse with fatigue.

We travelled great distances, going on all day and the greater part of the night, with relays of men, on September 22nd and 23rd.

The Secundury was a stream with an average width of 60 m. and in many places quite deep. It had a great many little springs and streamlets flowing[350] into it between steep cuts in its high embankments, which were of alluvial formation mingled with decayed vegetation. The banks almost all along were from 40 to 50 ft. high. We came across a large tributary on the right side of the river. It was evidently the stream to which we had first come on our disastrous march across the forest, and which I had mistaken for the Secundury. Beyond this river we came across some small rapids, of no importance and quite easy to negotiate by the large boats, although in one or two cases tow-ropes had to be used by the men who had landed in order to pull the boats through.

On September 23rd we passed some easy corrideiras. I had slept almost that entire day on the roof of the boat, in the sun. It did me good. Late in the evening, at about seven o'clock, we arrived at a trader's hut, called São José, which was in the charge of a squinting mulatto—a most peculiar fellow.

On September 24th I stayed at the trader's house, spending the whole day drying thoroughly in the sun my notebooks and negatives and repacking them, so that I could leave them at that spot until I could fetch them again. My idea was to walk from that place across the forest once more back to our original point of departure near the Tapajoz River, where I had left the remainder of my party and the main part of my baggage.

A runaway seringueiro was induced to accompany me on that errand, while another man remained with faithful Filippe in charge of my valuable possessions. I left with them supplies for three months, which I had purchased from Pedro Nunes' expedition.

[351] On September 25th I went a short distance farther up the river to its most south-easterly point. From there, with two men and provisions for thirty days, bidding goodbye to the men who had saved our lives, we started, still in a weak and exhausted condition, on our march back to the men we had left behind.

We only carried food supplies with us. I had left everything else on the Secundury River. Marching was indeed painful, as I had absolutely no strength, and was in a high fever. I stumbled along in excruciating pain, now losing one shoe, now the other, when they caught in some liana. There were a great many fallen trees in that part of the forest, which gave us no end of trouble, when, exhausted as Benedicto and I were, we had to climb over them or else squeeze under.

So great was my anxiety, however, to get back that, notwithstanding the pain, I marched along, following the new man, who was in good condition. We went 20 kil. that day.

The forest near the Secundury River was at first overgrown with dense vegetation, which gave us a good deal of work and extra exertion; but after that, when we got some distance from the water, the forest was fairly clean, except of course for the fallen trees. We found troublesome ravines of great height where streamlets had cut their way through.

In going down one of those difficult ravines I had an accident which might have been fatal. The ravine, the sides of which were almost vertical, was very narrow—only about 10 m. across. We let ourselves down, holding on to liane. When we reached the[352] bottom we found a tiny brook winding its way between great round boulders, and leaving a space about 2 ft. wide for the water. I proceeded up on the other side, and I had got up to a height of some 30 ft. In order to go up this steep incline I had placed one foot against a small tree while I was pulling myself up by a liana. Unluckily, the liana suddenly gave way. The weight of the load which I had on my shoulders made me lose my balance, so that my body described an entire semicircle. I dropped down head first from that height on the rocks below.

Trading Boats landing Balls of Rubber, River Tapajoz.

Providence once more looked after me on that occasion. On the flight down I already imagined myself dead; but no—my head entered the cavity between the two rocks against which my shoulders and the load became jammed, while my legs were struggling up in mid-air. I was forced so hard against the two side rocks that I could not possibly extricate myself. It was only when Benedicto and the new man came to my help and pulled me out that we were able to resume our journey—I much shaken and somewhat aching, but otherwise none the worse for that unpleasant fall.

On September 26th my two men were already complaining of their loads. They said they could not go on any more—the man in good health and full of strength rebelling more than poor Benedicto, who was in a weak condition. So that we might march quickly I decided to abandon one bag of flour and eight tins of salt butter. With the lighter loads we marched comparatively well, and went 22 kil. that day with no particular experience worth noticing.

[353] On September 27th we started once more quite early, after a hearty breakfast—notwithstanding the pain which I always had whenever I ate, especially a stabbing pain in my heart which was almost unbearable at times. We crossed several streamlets, one fairly large, all of which flowed into the Secundury. Rain, which came down in torrents, greatly interfered with our march that day, the new man I had employed worrying me all the time, saying that he did not like to march in wet clothes. Benedicto and I could not help laughing at him, as we had not been dry one moment since the beginning of July, and we were now at the end of September. Wet or not wet, I made the man come along. Finding the forest comparatively clean, we covered another 20 kil. that day. We had a most miserable night, rain coming down in sheets upon us. I was suffering from high fever, chiefly from exhaustion and the effects of over-eating, most injurious to my internal arrangements, which had got dried up during the long sixteen days' fast. I shivered with cold the entire night.

When we got up the next morning, dripping all over, with water still pouring down in bucketfuls upon us from above, Benedicto said that if it went on much longer like that he should surely turn into a fish. He looked comical, with water streaming down from his hair, his ears, nose and coat.

The trousers which our friend Pedro Nunes had given me were made of cheap calico, printed in little checks. They were of the kind that was usually sold to the seringueiros, and looked pretty when they were new. But they were a little too small, and had[354] evidently not been shrunk before they were made. With the great moisture that night they shrank so badly all of a sudden that they split in four or five different places. I had no way of mending them.

As we went on—on September 28th—we encountered a great deal of entangled vegetation, many liane and thorns, which completely finished up my lower garments. My coat also, which was of similar material, was beginning to give signs of wear and tear, the sewing of the sleeves and at the back having burst everywhere.

We were going over almost level ground that day, across forest sparsely wooded and with much undergrowth of palms and ferns. We had drenching rain the entire day. My trousers were in shreds, dangling and catching in everything. When we had gone some eight or ten kilometres they were such a trouble to me that I discarded them altogether. The coat, too, was getting to be more of a nuisance than a protection. Owing to the incessant rain we were only able to march 14 kil. that day.

On September 29th we again started off, marching due east. We had slightly better weather, and were fortunate enough to shoot two monkeys, a coati, and a jacú, the new man possessing a rifle of his own, for which I had bought 200 cartridges from our friend Pedro Nunes. We had, therefore, that day, a good meal of meat; but what terrible pain we felt when we devoured the tough pieces of those animals, which we had broiled over a big flame! Notwithstanding the pain, however, we had an irresistible and insatiable craving for food.

[355] That day we made a good march of 24 kil.

On September 30th the marching was comparatively easy, through fairly clean forest, so that we had to use our knife very little in order to open our way. We crossed a small campo with a good deal of rock upon it, and as our strength was gradually coming back we struggled along, covering a distance of 34 kil. between seven o'clock in the morning and seven in the evening. I was anxious to push on as fast as we possibly could, notwithstanding the grumblings of my men, for now that we had abandoned half of our supplies of food I did not want to have, if I could help it, another experience of starvation.

On October 1st we had more trouble cutting our way through, as we again found great ferns and palms, especially near streamlets of water, and quantities of fallen trees, which made us continually deviate from our direction. The forest was indeed dirty and much entangled in that section, and thus made our march painful, liane catching my feet and head all the time, tearing my ears and nose—especially when the man who walked in front of me let them go suddenly and they swung right in my face. Thorns dug big grooves into my legs, arms and hands. To make matters worse, the high fever seemed to exhaust me terribly. Worse luck, a huge boil, as big as an egg, developed under my left knee, while another of equal size appeared on my right ankle, already much swollen and aching. The huge shoes given me by the trader—of the cheapest manufacture—had already fallen to pieces. I had turned the soles of them into sandals, held up by numerous bits of[356] string, which cut my toes and ankles very badly every time I knocked my feet against a tree or stone. My feet were full of thorns, so numerous that I had not the energy to remove them. The left leg was absolutely stiff with the big boil, and I could not bend it.

Limping along, stumbling all the time in intense pain—the boils being prevented from coming to maturity owing to the constant cold moisture—I really had as painful a time as one could imagine on those long marches back.

On October 2nd we had to cut our way through all the time, still marching due east. We encountered two high hill ranges, which gave us a lot to do as in our weak condition we proceeded to climb them. We had eaten more food than we should have done, and the result was that we now had none left, except a tin of guyabada (sweet cheese). I had become almost as improvident as the Brazilians when it came to food, as I could not resist the temptation, and instead of the usual three meals a day we were munching food all the time.

Itaituba.

The strong fever was wearing me out. The dissatisfaction of my men because we had no more food—it was their own fault, for they had insisted on leaving most of it behind—and their constant grumbling were tiring me to death. We killed a small bird in the evening. By the time we had broiled it over a flame it satisfied but little our ravenous appetites.

On October 3rd we reached quantities of boulders and rocks, which showed me that we were once more approaching the extensive rocky table-land I had seen on our outward journey. As we climbed[357] up higher and higher we came to an elevated streamlet of limpid water running in a channel carved out of the solid rock. It took us over two hours' steady marching, going perhaps some 2½ miles an hour, to cross the summit of that high rocky tableland. Then we descended through chapada and found ourselves among a lot of ravines, on the slope of one of which we halted for the night. There we killed two large monkeys, which we proceeded to broil and eat. I never liked the idea of eating monkeys, as I could not get over the feeling that I was eating a child, they looked so human. The hands and arms particularly, after they had been roasted over the fire, looked too human for words.

On October 4th we climbed a steep and rocky hill, crossing on its summit another section of the rocky plateau, a regular dome of grey volcanic rock. Then, descending from this second tableland on its eastern side, we had to struggle and stumble through most rugged country, where I found an extinct circular crater some 50 ft. in diameter and 50 ft. deep, with a vent at an angle in its bottom going apparently to a great depth. Near that spot was also a strange giant natural gateway of rock.

The descent was steep, and most trying for us among the great boulders over which we had to climb on our hands and feet. When we got to the bottom of this elevated country, the forest we found had quite a different aspect, which suggested to me the approach of the big river. We found there plenty of wild fruit, particularly some small black berries—called in Brazilian pattaõa—quite good to eat; also some[358] most palatable tiny red cherries. We wasted a good deal of time picking up the fruit instead of marching, my men complaining all day long of an empty stomach. They would not take my advice to march quickly, so that we might then get plenty of food on the river. During the last few days, as I knew we must have been near the camp where I had left my men in charge of my baggage, we had constantly been firing sets of three shots—the agreed signal—in order to locate the exact spot where they were. But we had received no answer. Failing that, it was impossible to locate them exactly in the virgin forest, unless we had plenty of time and strength at our disposal.

I made sure, by the appearance of the forest, that we were now not far off from the stream. In fact, on October 5th, when we had marched some distance, much to my delight as I walked ahead of my men, who were busy picking up berries as they struggled along, I recognized a little streamlet on which I had made my camp the first night I had started out on our disastrous journey across the forest.

My men, when I mentioned the fact, were sceptical and said it could not possibly be, as we must still be a long distance from the Tapajoz. But we had only gone a few hundred metres farther when I came upon my old camp. There an empty sardine-tin of a special mark which I carried was lying on the ground.

I think that that spoke pretty well for the accuracy with which I could march across the forest by compass. I knew that at that spot we were only 6 kil. from the river. We indulged there in the last tin of the sweet[359] guyabada, which I had kept for an emergency. After that we metaphorically flew through the forest, so fast did we march—if stumbling along constantly and even occasionally falling can be called flying. Even at that last moment, when our hearts were rejoiced, our progress was impeded by a thunderstorm, which broke out with such force that we had to halt for nearly two hours until it slightly abated. The wind howled among the trees, which shook and waved to and fro, some crashing down, so that, with the thunder and lightning and the rush of the water, it seemed a regular pandemonium.

"The devil is angry with us," said Benedicto the philosopher. "He does not want us to get back."

My impatience to get quickly to the river was so great that I could not wait for the storm to be over. In the drenching rain we continued our tramp. My sandals had given way altogether in the quick march that day, and I was once more walking with bare feet. Marching so quickly, one did not always have time to detect thorns. That day my feet were indeed in a pitiable condition.

The last trial of all was yet to be added, when we had come to within 300 m. of the river. The seringueiro, from whose hut we had started on our way out, had evidently since our departure set the forest on fire in order to make a roça so as to cultivate the land. Hundreds of carbonized trees had fallen down in all directions; others had been cut down. So that for those last two or three hundred metres we had to get over or under those burned trees and struggle through their blackened boughs, the stumps of which drove[360] holes into and scratched big patches of skin from my legs, arms and face. Where the skin was not taken off altogether it was smeared all over with the black from the burnt trees. We did not look unlike nigger minstrels, with the exception that we were also bleeding all over.

A Trading Boat on the Tapajoz River.

The S.S. "Commandante Macedo."

What had remained of my poor coat had been torn to shreds, so that all I possessed now in the way of clothing was a shirt. As the seringueiro had a wife I could not well appear in that condition before her when we had reached the hut. Hiding behind a tree, we shouted for the seringueiro to come to our assistance. Benedicto, who was not so bashful, and whose costume was not much better than mine, proceeded to the house.

A few minutes later, as I peeped from behind my tree, I had a moment of great joy. I had been wondering during the last few days whether my men had died in the forest, or what could have become of them, as we had not received an answer to our signals. There I saw Alcides rush out of the house and run toward me. His cheeks streamed with tears. "Senhor! Senhor!" he sobbed, embracing me.

Antonio, who followed behind, came up and shook hands, merely saying "Good morning!"

"Where is white Filippe? Where is the man X?" I hastily inquired, in order to make sure that they were still alive.

"They are fishing on the river." Alcides called out to them: "Come quickly! 'El Senhor' has returned!"

White Filippe immediately ran up, but the man X shouted back that he was busy fishing; he would come up later.

[361] Alcides was much upset on seeing my plight. He ran immediately into the hut and got me some clothes from the seringueiro, which I put on before entering the house. The seringueiro was kindness itself to me, most thoughtful and hospitable. He prepared some food for us at once. That was a day of joy and sadness combined. I found that all my men were safe, but that they had abandoned all my baggage and all my collections in the forest. They believed that I had been assassinated by Indians or that I had died of starvation.

Alcides cried like a child for some time. He and the others were ill with fever. Those men I had left in charge of my baggage at the camp in the forest had remained at that camp for seven days after my departure. Believing that I was never coming back, three of them had abandoned everything there, and even their companion Antonio, who was in a dying condition and was unable to walk. They had proceeded quickly to the Tapajoz, where they had found plenty to eat. Two or three days later Antonio had become better; he had shot some monkeys and birds, and had been able to keep alive. Had it not been for the kind-hearted seringueiro, Albuquerque, who had started out to rescue Antonio, the poor devil would have certainly died there, abandoned by everybody.

I heard stories that day which pained me a great deal. When my men believed that I was lost in the forest the man X had proposed to his companions to follow the picada I had cut in order to find my body and rob me of all the money which he knew I carried.

[362] "If he is alive," he had said to his companions, "we will cut his throat once for all, and we will divide the money amongst ourselves."

It was with some difficulty that Alcides had prevented him from smashing all my baggage open, as he wished to divide the contents with his companions. Alcides was an honest man. He had stood up against that rascal. After a severe fight it had been decided that the baggage should be left intact in the forest until such authorities as could be sent up from the Fiscal Agency could visit the spot and take charge of my things.

It was then that I understood why the man X was now ashamed to face me, and did not come to greet me after I had nearly sacrificed my life to save him and his companions.

Albuquerque, the seringueiro, had also been considerate enough to lift my baggage upon stones and then cover it up with palm leaves, so that it should be preserved as much as possible from moisture and ants. During the month they had been back on the Tapajoz the man X had once taken a journey alone to the spot where the baggage and Antonio had been left, hoping to find his companion dead and so rob him of the money which he knew he had in his possession—the pay he had received from me.

Here is another charming incident. Nearly dead with fatigue, I lay helpless in a hammock which the seringueiro had hung for me. He and his wife had gone out to look after their new plantation, and only my men remained loafing about.

The river was some 60 m. from the hut, and one[363] had to go down a steep bank to reach the water. My throat was parched from the high fever, so I called Antonio, who was near me, to give me a glass of water. Antonio never budged, but called to white Filippe, some way off, to bring the water. Filippe called to the man X, repeating my order to him. The man X continued fishing without taking the slightest notice.

So that, exhausted as I was, I had to struggle down to the river myself, as those men, for whom I had almost died, reciprocated my sacrifice in so graceful a fashion.

I think that I might as well mention here a curious case of telepathy which occurred during those terrible days of starvation.

Naturally, when one has before one the prospect of leaving this world at any moment, and one is working under a severe mental strain, one generally thinks deeply of one's beloved parents and relatives. Thus my father, mother and sister were before me all the time in my imagination. Sometimes when I was half-dazed I could see them so vividly that I could almost believe they were so close that I could touch them. I never thought that I should see them again, in reality, although I never actually lost hope of doing so; but I was thinking incessantly of them, and of the anxiety I was causing them, as I had had no possible way of communicating with them for months and months.

There would be nothing extraordinary in that, but the amazing part of it all was that my parents and my sister—who had no idea whatever that I was exploring, as I always take the greatest care not[364] to let them know—actually during that time of starvation saw me in their imagination lying unconscious in the forest, dying of hunger, swarming all over with ants and surrounded by crocodiles.

When I reached Rio de Janeiro in April of the following year I found there a number of letters which had been written to me by my parents and my sister during the month of September, in which they told me of those constant visions repeating themselves daily, especially between the dates of September 8th and September 24th. Those letters were written long before anybody knew that I had ever suffered from starvation in the forest. It is quite remarkable that, except the crocodiles—which, of course, were not to be found in the forest—they reproduced the conditions with wonderful faithfulness, the telepathic connection having in that case been established vividly at a distance of several thousand miles.

Colonel R. P. Brazil and his Charming Wife.

[365]

## CHAPTER XXII

Baggage saved—The Journey down the Tapajoz River—Colonel Brazil—Wrecked—From Itaituba to the Amazon—Benedicto and the Man X are discharged

October 6th and 7th I spent inside a hammock. I was in such a high fever and so absolutely exhausted that I believed I should never be able to pull through. Albuquerque and his wife were kindness itself to me, and looked after me most tenderly. While I had been away a trading boat had passed. That boat would be on its way down the river again in a few days. I thought I would take advantage of this to go down as far as the mouth of the Tapajoz on the Amazon in her.

On the evening of October 7th, Benedicto, who was a great glutton, prepared a huge bowl of the mamão fruit stewed and sweetened with quantities of sugar. I had obtained from Albuquerque some tins of shrimps, lobster and salmon, butter and jam—all condemned stuff from some ship—and I gave all my men a feast. Benedicto brought me some of the sweet he had prepared, and it looked so tempting that, ill as I was, I ate a quantity of it. After dinner I persuaded my men to go back to the forest to recover the baggage they had abandoned there. Tempted[366] by a present of money I offered them if they would bring it back safely, they all agreed to go.

On October 8th, however, when the men were to start, the man X had a severe colic. He rolled himself on the ground in great pain, and refused to go.

The strong fever had finished me to such an extent that I did not think I should last many hours longer. Albuquerque and his wife stood by my hammock watching me, Albuquerque shaking his head compassionately, asking me if I wanted to write a last word to my family, which he would send down by the trading boat when she arrived. I well remember hearing his voice faintly, as I was in a half-dazed condition. I had not the strength to answer. As he walked out of the room he said to his wife: "Poor fellow! he will not be alive in another hour!"

Albuquerque was a most thoughtful Brazilian, intelligent and well-educated, quite superior for the position he occupied there.

I was still alive on October 9th, much to the surprise of everybody, and feeling much better. There was a great slaughter of chickens, Albuquerque saying that I needed chicken broth badly; in fact, that day I drank cup after cup, and it seemed to give me a little strength. Although those chickens had a local value of about £1 sterling each, Albuquerque would not hear of my paying for them. I knew what inconvenience it would be for him to slaughter them in that fashion, as he could not replace them perhaps for several months.

Good news came that day, when Albuquerque's wife entered the room saying that some trading boats[367] were coming up the river—she could see them a long way off, just getting over the Capueras Falls. I decided to go up in one of those boats as far as the Fiscal Agency at S. Manoel, where I could obtain fresh clothes and provisions. Remaining still inside a house I felt was killing me.

The boats did not arrive that evening. The next day, October 10th, rain came down in sheets, so that we could not see more than a few metres in front of us, and the wind was howling with fury.

On October 11th, when the boats approached, Albuquerque took me up in a small canoe to them on the other side of the wide stream. It was the trading fleet of Don Eulogio Mori, a Peruvian trader, who at once offered all possible assistance and undertook to convey me up stream with pleasure.

Mr. Mori, a most enterprising man, who was in charge of the expedition, was a frank, open and jolly gentleman, most charmingly thoughtful and civil. He and his brother had the second largest rubber-trading business on the upper Tapajoz River.

He was amazed when I got on board and told him who I was, as the news had already spread down the river that I had been murdered by my own men in the forest. In fact, during my absence, when Alcides had travelled up to the Fiscal Agency to inform them of what was happening, he had been detained there for some days and accused with his companions of having murdered me.

As we went up the stream once more we passed Mount S. Benedicto, with its foliated rock in grey and red strata. Volleys were fired in honour of the saint;[368] more candles were deposited on the platform of rock.

When we halted for lunch, one of the crew died of yellow fever. After lunch a grave was dug and the corpse duly deposited in it.

We had not gone far when the trading boats of Colonel Brazil, under the care of Mr. João Pinto, came in sight on their way down the river. Therefore I abandoned the idea of going up to S. Manoel, as, had I not taken the opportunity of going down with Mr. Pinto, I might have had to wait up the river some two or three months before I had another opportunity.

Again I met with the greatest kindness on the part of Mr. Pinto when I transhipped from the Peruvian boats.

In a few hours, travelling rapidly down stream, I was once more at Albuquerque's hut, where Mr. Pinto most kindly offered to halt one day in order that I might wait for the men who had gone in search of my baggage in the forest.

Where the Madeira-Mamore Railway begins.

Madeira-Mamore Railway, showing Cut through Tropical Forest.

Next day, October 16th, as I was in great suspense lest the men should not arrive in time—Mr. Pinto being pressed to get quickly down the river with some thousands of kilos of rubber he had purchased—my men eventually arrived with part of the baggage. They had abandoned the rest in the forest, including my valuable botanical collection, which had taken me so many months of careful labour. Alcides said that the termites had played havoc with all my things. The wooden boxes had been almost entirely destroyed, as well as most of the contents. I was glad, nevertheless, to get back what I did, the man Benedicto[369] on that occasion behaving splendidly—even going back to the spot where the tragic scene had taken place with the Indian Miguel on our outward journey and recovering some of my instruments which I had abandoned there.

In the afternoon of October 16th I bade goodbye to Albuquerque, and gave him a present of £20 sterling, as he would not accept payment for the hospitality he had offered me.

With a powerful crew of men we sped down the river quickly. In a couple of hours we had already arrived at the rapids of the Capueras. After passing the island of Pombas before entering the rapids, we encountered the first rapid of Sirgar Torta; then the second rapid of Baunilla—named after the vanilla plant. The third rapid of the Capueras group was called Chafaris; then the fourth was the Campinho.

We went along the banks of the beautiful island of Antas, after which we halted at the house of José Maracati, a Mundurucu chieftain, with thirty Indians under him. A delegate of the Para Province in charge of the Indians—a man of strong Malay characteristics and evidently of Indian parentage—received us, and gave me much information about the local rubber industry. He told me that the best rubber found in that region was the kind locally called seringa preta, a black rubber which was coagulated with the smoke of the coco de palmeira. He calculated that 150 rubber trees gave about 14 kilos of rubber a day. The seringa preta exuded latex all the year round, even during the rainy season.

There was in that region also another kind of[370] rubber tree—the itauba—but it was of inferior quality, as the latex was too liquid, like reddish milk, quite weak, and with little elasticity.

A few trees of the castanha do Para were also found in that region, producing the well-known nut which has rendered Brazil famous in England.

Solveira trees were also plentiful all over that district, and gave latex which was good to drink; while another tree, called the amapá, exuded latex somewhat thinner than that of the solveira, which was supposed to be beneficial in cases of consumption or tuberculosis.

Very interesting were the different liane in the forest there, particularly the cepa de agua, which when cut gave most delicious fresh water to drink. The titica was a smaller liana, which was most troublesome when you went through the forest, as it generally caught you and twisted round your feet as it lay for long distances along the ground.

Another wild fruit which was abundant there was the pajurá, dark in colour, soft-skinned, most palatable and quite nourishing, but which gave an insatiable thirst after you had eaten it.

We resumed our journey among a lot of islands, traversing the Cabeceira de Piquarana. The main rapid was formidable enough, although nothing in comparison with the rapids we had gone over on the Arinos-Juruena river. There was a barrier of rock extending from W.S.W. to E.N.E. across the river, which was there 1,500 metres broad and of great beauty, with hillocks on either side and some small islets in mid-stream.

[371] Soon afterwards we came to another barrier of rock, extending from north to south. It was called the Bigua. There was an island of the same name, the name being taken from an aquatic bird which is plentiful there.

The traders talked a great deal of the dangers of those rapids, and they were certainly dangerous because of the innumerable submerged rocks; but after the fierceness of those we had encountered before they seemed child's play to us.

The river there followed a direction of b.m. 60°.

We spent the night of October 16th-17th at the seringueiro's farm of Boa Vista, most beautifully situated where the river described a big curve. In its crudeness the hospitality of those exiles was quite charming. They hardly ever spoke; they just laid things before you—all they possessed—and were overcome with surprise when you thanked them for it or when you offered payment.

There was a project of constructing a cart-road for some 20 kil. along the bank, in order to avoid the rapids which occurred there in the river. Although those rapids were not impressive to look at, they were strewn with submerged rocks just under the surface, which were very dangerous for the large trading boats. If that road were constructed a great deal of time would be saved, especially in ascending the river, when sometimes the trading boats took as long as a week or ten days to get over that particular rapid.

The first rapid we saw after we left Boa Vista was the Vira Sebo rapid, slightly worse than the following ones. I was getting a little better, living on the[372] roof of the trading boat, thoughtfully looked after by Mr. João Pinto and the other employés of Col. Brazil. I was able to drink quantities of condensed milk, and my strength seemed to be slowly coming back.

Bolivian Rubber at Abuna Station on the Madeira-Mamore Railway.

The Inauguration Train on the Madeira-Mamore Railway.

The river had many islets as we proceeded on our journey, with wooded hillocks some 100 to 150 ft. high in long successive undulations along the river banks. The coast-line was generally of rocky volcanic formation, with accumulations of boulders in many places right across the stream.

After passing the rapids we were travelling through a region of extensive and beautiful sand-beaches, with hardly any rock showing through anywhere. The country on each side was almost altogether flat, merely an occasional hill being visible here and there.

On October 19th we came in for a howling storm of wind and rain, waves being produced in the river as high as those that occur in the sea. We tossed about considerably and shipped a lot of water. More immense sand-beaches were passed, and then we came to a region of domed rocks showing along the river bank. At all the baracãos, or trading sheds where the seringueiros bought their supplies, the same rubbish was for sale: condemned, quite uneatable ship biscuits sold at 5s. a kilo; Epsom salts at the rate of £2 sterling a kilo; putrid tinned meat at the rate of 10s. a tin; 1-lb. tins of the commonest French salt butter fetched the price of 10s. each. The conversation at all those halting-places where the trading boats stopped was dull beyond words, the local scandal—there was plenty of it always—having little interest for me.

[373] At one place we were met by a charming girl dressed up in all her finery, singing harmonious songs to the accompaniment of her guitar. So great was her desire to be heard that she kept on the music incessantly during the whole time we stopped—some three hours—although nobody paid the slightest attention to it after the first song or two.

Farther down the river, there 800 m. wide, hills and undulations were to be seen on each side. At sunset that day we arrived at S. Isabel or Castanho, where I had the pleasure of meeting the greatest man upon that river—Col. R. E. Brazil, a man of immense strength of will and enterprise. He went under the name, which he well deserved, of the "King of the Tapajoz"; for it was he who indeed held the key of that river, nearly the entire commerce on that great waterway being, directly or indirectly, in his hands.

October 20th was spent at S. Isabel, where a great fleet of boats was waiting to be loaded with thousands upon thousands of kilos of magnificent rubber.

Both Col. Brazil and his employés treated me with great deference, and made preparations to get a boat ready at once for me to continue my journey down the stream. In fact, Col. Brazil, who would not hear of my paying for being conveyed down stream, insisted upon my being his guest, and declared that he himself would take me to a point where I might be able to get a steamer.

When all the boats were ready, at 4 p.m. on October 20th, we proceeded on our journey down the Tapajoz by a small channel on the right side of the river, in order to visit some of the trading sheds be[374]longing to Col. Brazil, especially those at the mouth of the Crepore River, which was 100 m. wide where it entered the Tapajoz on the right side. The scenery was beautiful, the hills getting higher as we proceeded north, some of the islands we passed also being of great height and forming picturesque scenes, especially against the gorgeous tints of the sky at sunset.

I was interested in observing the wonderful regularity of the sky-line along the forest. It looked as if the trees had been trimmed artificially in a perfectly straight line. The fleet which Col. Brazil was taking down the river consisted of eight large boats. I was much impressed by the force of mind of Col. Brazil, together with his great charm and thoughtfulness when not at work. His men were in mortal fear of him, and trembled all over when he spoke to them.

No serious obstacle to navigation was encountered as we proceeded on our journey, although rocks were plentiful, great red domes and boulders galore showing through the water and along the coast-line. Whitish vertical cliffs were noticeable along the higher hills. The most impressive things I saw in that part of the river were the extensive beaches of beautiful reddish sand extending for hundreds and hundreds of metres at a time. Those beaches were often 10 to 20 ft. high.

The river was most interesting, especially near the beach of Curassá, with Crato in the distance; then the great meadow of "Mission Nova" extending in a north-westerly direction on the left bank, along the tributary of the same name. In the same direction extended also the rocky barrier at the beginning of the Mangabel rapid. The rapid was formed by a[375] rocky barrier extending from north-west to south-east. We had hilly and undulating country all the way along, and the river wound about a great deal.

Col. Brazil was steering the first boat of the fleet carefully as we went through the tortuous channel, the entire fleet following us in good order. Picturesque islands of truly tropical appearance were to be seen, covered with tall burity palms, 30 to 40 ft. high, with narrow channels between.

The heavy clouds which had collected to the north suggested an approaching storm, but, as luck would have it, the sky cleared at sunset. As we wound our way among the many rocks reflected in the now still waters of that vast river, the scene was really beautiful.

The channel through which Col. Brazil navigated his boat was only 10 m. wide, with dangerous submerged rocks. Mangabel, taken as a whole, was an immense basin, 1,000 to 1,500 m. broad from west to east, interspersed with elongated, rounded and flattened rocks. It was indeed a most picturesque sight, especially when all the trading boats were winding their way at sunset descending the various rapids.

After going through a great channel, we went along a large fissure from south-east to north-west, still in the Mangabel rapid. The rock of that region was highly ferruginous. That fissure was of great depth, and absolutely free from rocks in the channel itself.

When we emerged from the fissure we were confronted to the east on the right bank by two enormous hemispherical domes 100 ft. high, grassy but absolutely without a tree.

The rocky formation of the hills was apparent a[376] little farther down stream, when going along the great eastern channel of the river. On the left bank we had hills with campos on their summit. All the hills I noticed in that region had rounded backs.

I greatly admired the bearing of Col. Brazil as we dashed down at a terrific speed through the most intricate channel in the rapid, strewn with sharp rocks. Had we touched one of those rocks it would have meant the destruction of the boat, the loss of all the valuable cargo and most of the crew, as the majority of them could not swim.

There were three passages there, called respectively the Casson, near the left bank; the Dos Ananas, in the centre; and the channel da Terra Preta, which we followed, on the right. At Lua Nova, the end of the Mangabel rapid, the river turned in a sweeping curve to the north, the rocks getting fewer and fewer until eventually the river became quite clear of them, with only high hills along both banks. Lua Nova was a little settlement of five houses and a shed, some of them whitewashed, with doors and windows painted green. A small plantation of Indian corn, sugar-cane, and mandioca had been made, the soil being extremely fertile at that spot. We enjoyed a magnificent view to the west and north-north-west, the river there forming an elbow.

Wreck of the "Mamoria" in the Calderão of the Solimões River.

Indians of the Putumayo District.

(Dr. Rey de Castro, Peruvian Consul at Manaos, in the centre of photograph.)

Close by, on leaving that place, we found on our right Lage's Point, where the rocky formation suddenly ended, and with it the dangers of the Mangabel rapids. Here there was a basin 1,500 m. wide, with extensive sand-beaches of great beauty. After passing the last row of rocks, extending from west to east, the[377] entire river bottom was of clean yellow sand, so that the water appeared as limpid as crystal, while a few moments before it looked of a dirty yellow—not because it was really dirty, but because of the reflection from the rocky river bottom.

From Praia Formosa, which we then saw on our left side, the river was once more strewn with rocks, but not in such quantities as at Mangabel. High hills could be seen all along, which seemed as if they had been formed by alluvial deposits left there when the drainage from the high Matto Grosso plateau proceeded down toward the north in a disorderly fashion, until it found its way into the great fissures in the earth's crust which now form the beds of those great arteries, the Xingu, the Tapajoz, and the Madeira rivers.

I noticed that all the hills and undulations ran from south to north or from north-west to south-east, the southern slope being generally more elongated. After passing on our left the trading sheds of Sobradinho and S. Vicente, with their corrugated iron roofs—looking to us the most civilized things we had ever seen—we approached the Montanha, where another rapid had to be negotiated.

During the night I was sleeping inside the cabin of the boat, which Col. Brazil had placed at my disposal, and where I had all the baggage which I had saved from the forest. In the middle of the night all of a sudden the boat sank in 5 or 6 ft. of water. It was all I could do to scramble out of the cabin. The boat had sprung a great leak as big as a man's hand, which had been stopped up, and which had suddenly opened—hence the misfortune.

[378] This sudden immersion in cold water gave me another bad attack of fever, as I had to sit the entire night in wet pyjamas while the crews of all the other boats were summoned in order to raise the boat once more, a work which lasted several hours.

Next morning when we departed Col. Brazil lent me some of his clothes, while all my things were spread on the roofs of the various boats to dry in the sun, I never shall forget Col. Brazil's amusement and that of his men when I unpacked some of the boxes, which had once been watertight, and pulled out a dress-suit, frock-coat, and other such stylish garments, now all wet and muddy, and some twenty pairs of shoes, all in a terrible condition, mildewed and soaked with the moisture they had absorbed in the forest and during the last immersion.

Near the tributary Montanha, on the left side of the main stream, were two small rapids. A rich rubber-producing land was situated a day and a half's journey along that tributary. The best way to reach it was from a place called El Frances, one of the most charming spots I saw on the lower Tapajoz River. The central hill at Montanha was 300 ft. high, the hills around it from 200 to 300 ft. high.

Farther down we came to the Rio Jamanchin, a tributary on the right side of the Tapajoz, which entered the river where great sand-shallows occupied nearly half the width of the stream.

Col. Brazil was the happy possessor of immense concessions on that tributary stream—in fact as far as the Tocantins River, a tributary on the left side of the Jamanchin. He had already made a mule trail[379] across that region in order to get over the difficulty of the troublesome rapids which are to be found there, such as those of Portão, Cahy, and Apuhy. The mineral wealth was also considerable, according to the accounts I heard; while undoubtedly the production of rubber could not be better.

This was the spot at which the river Tapajoz came nearest to its eastern neighbour the river Xingu. The seringueiros on the latter river constantly cross over, following the Jamanchin in order to go down to the Amazon by the Tapajoz. Rubber collectors have found their way high up on the Xingu River—much farther up than on the river Tapajoz.

On October 25th we went down first the Limão rapid, and then the Burbure rapid. The river was beautiful all along, with low hills on both sides. We eventually arrived at Pimental, a fiendishly hot, steamy, unhealthy place, where across a streamlet was a station for the transhipment of rubber. The place was on low ground, which became inundated at high water. Another station was built some 200 m. off on high ground, which was used as a winter station. The second station was at the beginning of an excellent mule track which Col. Brazil had cut as far as a place lower down the river called Bella Vista, a distance of some 20 kil. He had imported at much expense a number of mules for the service. All the rubber was conveyed from that spot on mule-back, as between Pimental and Bella Vista was a dangerous rapid, on which many boats had been lost.

In the company of Col. Brazil I rode over that distance, in intense pain owing to the weak state in[380] which I was. When we came to the river again, over great deposits of sand we saw a number of crocodiles basking in the sun.

Bella Vista consisted of four neat double-storied grey houses, two large white buildings, and some temporary constructions of mud with palm-leaf roofs, all of them situated on a high bank. The place was at the entrance of a wide channel, dry and sandy. When this was filled by the stream at high water a long island was formed.

Bella Vista was a great point for us, for there we should meet steam navigation again, Col. Brazil having purchased a handsome steamer which performed the service between that place and Belem (Para).

A Street in Iquitos.

The Launch "Rimac" on the Ucayalli River.

I broke down altogether while there, and was nursed with the tenderest care by the family of Mr. Lage, who was in charge of that trading station. It is difficult to imagine more kind-hearted, generous people than these exiles in those deadly regions. All the employés at the station were in a pitiable condition, suffering from malarial fever.

When the steamer Commandante Macedo arrived—she only came once a month in order to bring down the rubber—I went in her to the first town we had seen since leaving Diamantino, a place called Itaituba. It seemed to us as if we had dropped into London or Paris again, although the place merely consisted of a few red-roofed houses, the walls of which were gaily coloured, bright yellow, green, or white. Palm trees of great size showed here and there beyond the row of buildings as we approached the place on its high site.

[381] Prominent along the river front were magnificently vigorous mango trees, with luxuriant foliage. A brick and stone church, unfinished, was visible, with a great pile of bricks in front waiting in vain for money and labour to complete it. The grand square, with its pretty Intendencia coloured bright blue, formed the end, on the west, of that most important "town" on the Tapajoz. In the centre of the square was a well-executed bust of Correa.

The most prominent feature of the place, however, was the elevated landing-stage, some 30 ft. above the level of the river at low water, erected there for loading and unloading when the river rose. The town was divided by three longitudinal avenues, the central one also with rows of magnificent mango trees, which indeed seemed to flourish at that place. I was particularly struck by the wonderful tidiness and cleanliness, the good drainage of the streets, and the upkeep of the different houses, of which the people seemed proud. Everybody was well off, owing to the rubber industry, which had brought much wealth to the place. Col. Brazil and his family have dedicated much time and energy to embellishing the town, and no doubt some day, when Itaituba is connected with proper telegraphic and postal services, it will become an important city, being the key, as it were, of the Tapajoz River.

On November 5th I bade good-bye to my good friend Col. Brazil, whose guest I had been since leaving the forest, and for whose thoughtful hospitality I feel deeply grateful. I presented him with my best rifle, a very handsome weapon, which had accompanied me[382] on several previous journeys, and which was the only valuable thing remaining in my possession.

It was a new sensation for me to be steaming down comfortably on a beautifully-kept steamer, as spick-and-span as a private yacht. Her captain and co-proprietor with Col. Brazil was Captain Macedo, a man who had spent much time in Europe, and was one of the most polished gentlemen I met in Brazil.

Now that my work was practically over, it was a great relief to me to be basking in a cane chair upon the deck, looking at the wonderful scenery opening up before me as we went on. We passed a lovely sand-beach, Capitary, then the immense bay of Boin, and farther on the great rocks of Surucuá. Then came in sight the headland called Punta de Cururu, with the Serra of the same name upon it. Once or twice the ship stopped at different sheds in order to take up merchandise, but we only halted long enough to get the cargo on board, and once more we proceeded gaily down stream. It was wonderful how one appreciated civilized ways of locomotion after travelling for months and months, as we had done, in the manner of prehistoric man.

In the evening, while we were sitting at dinner, there was a big bump. We had run aground somewhat heavily on a sand-dune. The captain rather frightened me as he said that on a previous occasion they had stuck on a sand-bank for several days before they could get off. As luck would have it that night, partly by the aid of a steel cable several hundred metres long, which had been fastened to a number of big trees on the shore, partly by her own power,[383] we were able to back out and get her free. Only six hours were wasted. The tide, which reaches a long way up the Tapajoz River when the latter is low, helped us a great deal. At high tide the level of the water is raised more than one foot. It seemed amazing that the tide of the ocean could extend its influence by forcing the water back so far up the Amazon and its tributaries.

Although the steamer on which I was did not draw much water, being built specially for river navigation, careful soundings had to be taken continually. I well recollect the cries of the man at the lead. When the man cried out "Una braça!" (one fathom), there was great excitement on board, and we had to slow down to half speed or dead slow. In the distance on the left bank in the haze could be distinguished high hills, at the foot of which white ribbon-like streaks were visible along the water.

The Barros do Tapayuna, a sand and mud bar, extremely shallow, extended from the elongated island of the same name right across the stream, there about 5 kil. wide. That spot was also called the garganta, or throat of the Tapajoz, because at low water it was impossible to get through, and it was necessary to unload the steamer, the navigation being extremely difficult.

"Dos braças!" (two fathoms) cried the lead man. "One and a half fathom!" he cried next, as we went over the shallowest part of that sand-bar.

Although shallow, that part of the river was not dangerous, because the bottom was of soft mud; not so, however, farther on, where the shallow channel[384] was strewn with plentiful rocks. Captain Macedo had sensibly placed buoys and marks all over the most dangerous places, so as to minimize the dangers of navigation.

The river was magnificent farther down, where we passed a great quadrangular rock of deep Indian red, looking exactly like an immense square tower. Then vertical rocks were to be seen all along the right bank; while on the left bank, when we crossed over to the other side of the river, were immense beaches of beautiful sand. Above them were great stretches of the most wonderful grass, upon which thousands of cattle could graze—but not one animal was to be seen.

A Trail in the Andes.

It was rather interesting to note that the formation of the right bank was exactly the same as that of the Paredão Grande we had seen in Matto Grosso. Vertical sides in great rectangles were noticeable, intersected by passages—regular cañons—where small huts could be seen at the foot of the picturesque rocks, especially at places where small streamlets entered the Tapajoz. I was told that little lakes had formed beyond those frontal rocky masses, the entrances to which were blocked at low water by sand-bars. Beyond that row of vertical red rocks was a more or less confused mass of hills, some dome-like, others of a more elongated form, but still with a well-rounded sky-line. The water of the stream had now changed colour altogether, and had become of a deep green. Islets could be seen far, far away to the left side of the river, mere white dots and lines along the water-line, most of them having white sand-beaches around them; while on the right bank the great red walls in sections continued for[385] many miles. As we neared the mouth of the Tapajoz, the river had the immense width of 14 kil. On the right, after going through the Passagem dos Surucué, we passed the mountain of Jaguarary, which stood prominent along a flat elevation on the right bank.

We halted in the afternoon at a picturesque little place called Prainha—prettier than any I had seen so far, because of its frontage battlement, with its numerous staircases to allow the people of the various houses to go down to the water. A tiny church stood farther back on a prominence.

Late at night we arrived at Santarem, at the junction of the Tapajoz River with the Amazon. At that spot the man X and poor Benedicto insisted on leaving me, so they received their full pay, and Benedicto a very handsome present of money; after which they disembarked. As the sum I paid Benedicto was a considerable one, so that he might be well off for the rest of his days, I warned him not to waste it in buying all kinds of absurd things.

We halted at Santarem for several hours. What was not my astonishment, just before we departed, to find that Benedicto had gone into a store and had spent over £25 sterling in buying innumerable tins of jam—in fact, he had bought up the entire supply which was in the store! When I asked him what he did that for, he said he was very fond of jam. With his friends and a number of people he had quickly collected round him, they opened tin after tin, ravenously devouring the contents, so that within a short time he would have none left.

Brazilians of all classes are hopelessly improvident.

[386]

## CHAPTER XXIII

Santarem to Belem (Pará)—The Amazon—From Belem to Manaos—The Madeira-Mamore Railway

Santarem was an old settlement of no great interest. It had a few relatively fine ancient buildings and many ugly new ones.

Early on November 6th the steamer proceeded on her way to Belem (Pará). On leaving Santarem we first emerged into the great Amazon River, a regular sea of fresh water, where we tossed about in a strong north-easterly gale. Unless one knew, one never could have imagined oneself on a river, as the stream was so wide at that point that the opposite bank could not be seen at all.

Things were a little better when we entered the channel of Monte Alegre. On that channel was the little town of the same name, half of the buildings being along the water's edge, the other half on the summit of a low hill near by. There is a sulphur spring there with wonderful medicinal properties, and coal is also said to be found.

A colony of Spaniards had been imported to work, but they were dissatisfied and had left. Tobacco, made up into fusiform sticks 6 ft. long and tied into bundles, was exported from that place in considerable[387] quantities; the inhabitants were also engaged in breeding cattle, growing Indian corn, and drying fish—the pirarucú (Vastres gigas), a salmonoid vulgarly called the cod-fish of the Amazon. A big trade was done in that dried fish all over that region.

In the full moon of a glorious night we could discern to the north a mountain region with elevations of over 3,000 ft. Between those mountains—the Serra de Almerin—and ourselves, lay a long flat island, the vegetation on which was, for that particular region, comparatively sparse. That island of mud had formed during the last fifteen or twenty years, and was at the time of my visit several kilometres in length. It was called the Pesqueiro. Islands have a way of forming in a very short time in the Amazon, while others change their shape or disappear altogether.

On November 7th we were facing the principal outlet of the Amazon to the north-east. That main estuary is, however, not as navigable as the one south of it, through which most of the big ships pass. An archipelago had formed at that spot. The fortress of Matapa, very ancient, stood on the largest outlet.

We went through the channel called the Itoquara. Another, the Tajapurozinho, was to the south, forming a boundary on that side of the large island, which we skirted to the north in the Itoquara channel. The beautiful island of Uruttahi was now in sight, to the north of the largest outlet. Like all other islands in that neighbourhood, it was flat and of alluvial formation.

In order to avoid the open waters, where the small[388] ship upon which I was tossed about considerably, we kept to the smaller channels between the islands, going first through the channel of Limão and after that through the Tajapuru. It was practically the same course as the Itoquara, which was called by different names in different parts. It was narrow and tortuous, and required great skill in the navigation of it; but it was extraordinarily deep—so deep that all the big ocean steamers entering the Amazon followed this channel in preference to the main outlet of the river, which is not navigable owing to many sandbanks.

We were there in a regular maze of islands, composed mostly of mud and of recent formation, not more than one or two feet above the water. For Brazil, they were fairly thickly inhabited, miserable huts being visible every few hundred metres or so.

On our right as we went through we had a luxuriant growth of mirichi palms, some of great height and close together—a regular forest of them. At the first glance as you looked at those islands, it seemed as if all along the coast-line a low palisade had been erected. It was indeed a natural palisade of aninga, an aquatic plant growing in profusion on the edge of mud-banks. The aninga is said to contain a powerful poison, the touch of which produces violent itching.

All the houses and huts on those islands necessarily had to be built on high piles, as the country was constantly inundated, the tide rising and falling some three feet in that particular channel.

Campas Indian Children.

As we neared the mouth of the river, with Para as our objective, we first saw the lighthouse of Buyussu[389] in the immense bay which takes its name from the little town of Coralhina. Both this town and that of Boa Vista were on the left side of us, on the great island of Marajo. On the right the island of Oya was visible, and the island of Araras. Between the light of Buyussu and the island of Oya opened the great bay of Melgasso.

Considering the amount of navigation that went through, it was amazing to see how badly lighted that river was—the two lights, such as the one at Buyussu, and the one at Mandy, at the entrance of the bay of Marajo, being no bigger than and not so brilliant as the ordinary street oil-lamp in an English or French village. I understand that all ships navigating the Amazon have to pay a large tax on each journey for the maintenance of the lighthouses on that immense waterway. It is quite criminal that no proper lights are constructed in order to protect the safety of the passengers and the valuable cargoes which go by that important water route.

More picturesque than most of the scenery I had so far witnessed on the Amazon was the narrow Foro da Jararaca. From the lamp-post—it cannot in all honesty be called a lighthouse—of Mandy, we made for the other lamp-post of Capin; and from this for the third lamp-post of Arrozal, navigation being most difficult in that part. From there we steered direct for the Farol de Cutijuba, a light somewhat more respectable than the others at the entrance of the Barra of Pará.

After going through the bay of Coralhina we did not follow the great channel that was before us, but[390] skirted the island of Concepção to the left, passing between it and Paketta Island. After that island we found ourselves in the bay of Jappelin, so named after a bird of that region, which builds an elongated nest.

Having passed the Cutijuba Island, and then the Taxipa Island on our left, in the early morning we entered between the islands of Arabiranga and Jararakinha. The larger vessels generally follow a course outside on the east of this island before entering the large bay of Marajo.

We could plainly see that we were approaching a large city, for quantities of little sailing boats were now visible on the water. Signs of civilization were beginning to appear on the island of Arabiranga. A brick and tile kiln, which supplied Belem (Pará) with most of its building materials, had been established there. Alongside the island could be seen a lot of steamers belonging to the Amazon River Company. Beyond was the bay of Guajara, with the city and many ocean steamers looming in the distance.

On November 18th we steamed into the bay, and there stood the city of Belem (Pará) before us, while the noise of the town began to get louder and louder as we approached the dock. That sound was welcome to me in a way, and at the same time worrying, after the dead silence I had been accustomed to for the last many months.

A swarm of robber-porters invaded the steamer the moment we came alongside the pier. The bustle, the loud shouting, the pushing, seemed most irritating. Ill as I was, for a few moments I almost contemplated[391] the idea of turning back toward the virgin forest. The heat was oppressive, the bells of the tramways jangled all the time, the rattle of the mediæval carriages on the cobble-stones of the pavement was distressing.

Things were not pleasanter when I put up in the best hotel, where the best room I could get was not unlike a coal-cellar. We will not speak of the food.

Those aspiring efforts at semi-civilization were to my mind ten times worse than no civilization at all. Had it not been for the extreme kindness of my friend Commandante Macedo, of Mr. Ross, the manager of the London and Brazilian Bank, and of the British Consul, I would have left the place that same day.

At Belem I dismissed Alcides, Antonio, and white Filippe, paying their full passage by sea and railway and full wages up to the day of their arrival at their respective homes. They had certainly many faults, and had not behaved well to me; but I am given to weigh matters justly, and there was no doubt that those men had endured terrific hardships and, willingly or unwillingly, had carried through quite a herculean task. I therefore not only paid them the high wages upon which I had agreed, but I gave each a handsome present of money.

The three men duly signed receipts and unsolicited certificates, in which they declared that during the entire journey they had been treated by me in a generous manner and with every possible thoughtfulness and consideration.

As they had not been able to spend a single penny since we had left Diamantino they had accumulated[392] a considerable sum of cash. I warned them, as I had done with Benedicto, to be careful and not waste their money. They went out for a walk. Some hours later they returned, dressed up in wonderful costumes with fancy silk ties, patent leather shoes, gold chains and watches, and gaudy scarf-pins. In a few hours they had wasted away nearly the entire sum I had paid out to them. Everything was extremely expensive in Pará—certainly three or four times the price which things would fetch in London or New York.

Two days later white Filippe and Antonio embarked for Rio de Janeiro, with hardly a word of farewell to me. Alcides refused to travel on the same steamer with his companions, and left by a later one.

The city of Pará is much too well known for me to enter into a long description of it. Since its discovery in the year 1500, when Vincente Yanes Pinzon cast anchor in the Marañon or Amazon, Belem has become a beautiful city. As everybody knows, it is the capital of the Pará province, which has an area of 1,149,712 sq. kil. Geographically, Belem could not be situated in a better position, and is bound some day to become the most flourishing city of the Brazilian Republic. It is undoubtedly the key to the great Amazon River, although it is not actually at the mouth of the Amazon, but 138 kil. from the ocean. Through it is bound to pass the trade not only of that riverine portion of Brazil, but also of Peru and Bolivia.

Campas Old Woman and her Son.

Belem (Pará) is mostly known to Europeans as the nest of yellow fever. During the last few years it has been freed absolutely from that scourge, the cases of yellow fever being now few and far between,[393] owing to the wonderful progress made by hygiene and the praiseworthy efforts made by the Province to keep the city in a healthy condition.

The population of Pará is 192,230 inhabitants. Many spacious and handsome edifices, such as the Government buildings and the professional Institutes, do great credit to the city; while the Peace Theatre is one of the finest in Brazil. Many private mansions are of some architectural beauty, and some of the new avenues and the municipal gardens are handsome. The slaughter-house, the iron market, etc., are quite up to date, and the city even boasts of a crematorium.

My object in coming to Belem (Pará) was merely to see my men safely on board on their return to the Minas Geraes and Goyaz Provinces; also to buy some new cameras and instruments, so that I could start on the second part of my expedition, following the entire course of the Amazon almost up to its source, then cross over the Andes and reach the Pacific Ocean.

My English friends in Pará tried to dissuade me from attempting the journey, as I was in a pitiful condition. What was worse, civilization, instead of making me feel better, was smashing me up altogether. Every day I was getting weaker and weaker, and more exhausted. I had hardly strength to walk about, less still to go up or down stairs. Beri-beri commenced to develop in my right foot, and added to my other trials.

The English consul told me it was absolute folly to try and proceed on such a long journey in such an exhausted state.

Having bought fresh clothes and cameras for my[394] new expedition, I left Pará on November 12th at noon on the excellent ship Anthony of the Booth line, on my way up the Amazon to Manaos.

I will not attempt here to give a description of that amazing river the Amazon—amazing because it is very big and not because it is beautiful, for indeed I do not believe that in all my travels I have ever seen a river quite so ugly and uninteresting as the Amazon.

First of all, it is so big that you seldom see both sides of the river at a time; its waters are muddy and filthy; its climate is damp, oppressive and unhealthy; its vegetation, when you are near enough the banks to see it, is entangled, half-rotted, and smelly. All along one's nostrils are offended by the fetid odour of mud and decayed vegetable matter.

People in Europe seem imbued with the idea that, as you go along the Amazon, you must be attracted by the great number of birds of beautiful plumage, insects and butterflies of all sizes and amazing colours. Occasionally, especially in the early morning and at sunset, one does notice perhaps a flock of green paroquets with yellow foreheads, notable for their peculiar, clumsy, rapid wing-flapping flight and their harsh shrieks when settling on the trees. Occasionally, too, one may see a family of larger parrots dashing across the sky; but, indeed, birds in the lower Amazon are not plentiful by any means, nor, indeed, is their plumage particularly attractive, most birds, except the parrots, being small and very soberly tinted.

As for the melodious songs of birds which civilized people always imagine in the equatorial forest—the[395] song that will set you dreaming while you are basking under palm trees—the actual traveller will find the greatest disappointment of all in that respect. With one or two exceptions, such as the Troglodytes fuscus, a small brown wren which emits sweet musical notes, most birds of the Amazon have grating voices and harsh piercing whistles, or monotonous deep repetitions of two or three funereal notes which are more apt to drive you insane than to fascinate you. Among the most unmusical singers of the lower Amazon may be counted the several families of finches and fly-catchers, and the local thrushes, which feed on ants.

Similar disappointment awaits one in regard to the vegetation. People imagine Brazil a land of beautiful flowers, the forest made up of immense trees with luxuriant foliage, overladen with parasitic orchids—eternally in bloom, of course, in the dreamy minds of the untravelled, and just waiting to be picked and to be placed in one's buttonhole. The sky, naturally, over such a forest, could only be swarming with birds of all sizes, with plumage of the richest colours and hues; and what else could such a luxuriant country have in the way of butterflies and insects than some which resemble precious gems in the iridescent tones of their wings and bodies?

That is what people imagine. The following is what you really see.

The trees, overcrowded everywhere, far from being gigantic, are, instead, mean-looking and anæmic—not unlike the pallid, overgrown youth of the over-populated slums of a great city. Orchids? Yes, there are plenty of orchids about, but you never see[396] them unless you go on a special search for them with a high ladder or some other such means of climbing high trees. In any case, you would not detect them unless you had the eye of an expert. It is well not to forget that in tropical climates, as in temperate zones, plants are not always in bloom when you happen to be passing. As for the butterflies, you seldom see any at all in the actual forest.

Perhaps one of the most common birds of the Amazon is a kind of grey-eyed, noisy, mimicking magpie, locally called guache or japim or jappelin (Cassicus icterranotus), quite amusing with its energetic movements, its observant habits, its familiar interest in everything and everybody, and its facility for reproducing correctly enough sounds which momentarily attract its attention. The wonderful activity of its slender body, clothed in velvety black, neatly-groomed yellow feathers, and its charming wickedness make it, perhaps, one of the most attractive birds near towns and settlements on the river. It builds elongated nests which are 20 to 30 in. in length, the entrance to which is in the lower portion. They are suspended from the branches of trees. As I have said, the large bay near the mouth of the Amazon has been named in honour of this bird.

Campas Indian Woman.

Another bird of great interest is the araruna (or Macrocerus hyacinthinus), a magnificent macaw of great size, which is perhaps the rarest and most beautiful found in the interior of Brazil from the northern end of the central plateau as far as the Amazon River. Its feathers are of a soft, metallic, dark greyish-blue,[397] almost black, except round the eyes, where the uncovered white skin shows through. I have seen these birds in flight on four or five different occasions on the Tapajoz River, and tried in vain to secure a specimen. I generally saw them in couples, flying at a great height and speed. These birds are extremely intelligent, and become most affectionate and faithful companions to a considerate master. In fact, they will attack any one endeavouring to get near their owners. Their beaks are extremely strong. When in captivity they are disastrous to one's belongings, as they seem to possess an irresistible desire to crush and tear anything they see. They can chip off pieces of furniture made of the hardest wood with considerable ease. This is easily understood when you can see them crush into fragments the extremely hard nuts of the Acrocomia lasiopatha, on which they principally live.

Sir Roger Casement, of Putumayo atrocities fame, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at Manaos, possessed a most beautiful specimen of the Macrocerus hyacinthinus. It was most touching to see the pathetic devotion which existed between master and bird and vice versa. Only the people of the hotel where we both stayed did not appreciate the magnificent blue-black visitor, for when its master was out it spent all its time chipping off pieces from tables and chairs, and took the greatest pride and delight in flinging forks, knives and spoons off the dining-room tables, and tearing the menus to strips. The Brazilian waiters, in their caution to maintain their own anatomy intact, did not dare go near it; for the bird, even on[398] hearing remarks made on its behaviour, would let itself down the sides of chairs and defiantly proceed to attack the intruders.

Similar but larger and more beautiful than this macaw is the ararama, extremely rare and perfectly black. The natives say that it is impossible to keep it in captivity as it is quite untameable. I saw a couple of these birds. They were really magnificent—certainly 3 ft. in length from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail.

When the steamer was close enough to the banks or an island we occasionally saw small groups of assahy palms (Euterpe oleracea) 20 to 30 ft. high, with smooth stems and feather-like foliage. Other palms, equally graceful, with stems like polished columns and delicately-cut fronds aloft, were also to be seen; but otherwise most of the vegetation was entangled and untidy.

From the trees hung liane in festoons or suspended like cords. Creepers of all kinds smothered the trunks and branches of the trees, which seemed to struggle for a little life and air; while, when we had an opportunity of examining the branches of the trees a little closer, we could see absolute swarms of parasites covering every bough.

Near some of the houses could be seen the Musa paradisiaca, the most common kind of banana palm in that region, with its green leaves ten to twelve feet long reflecting beautiful shades like silk velvet when caressed by the wind. I saw one or two specimens of the bread-fruit tree, with its digitated foliage, and several kinds of pine-apple plants (Bromelia)—some[399] with leaves toothed along their edges, others shaped more like the blade of a long knife.

I was in great pain, and could not observe much. Also, most of the time we were at a great distance from the banks, and the river was so wide that it was almost like being in mid-ocean.

On November 14th we passed Obidos, at the mouth of the Rio Trombetas, the narrowest point, where the river went through a channel only 2,000 m. broad, but of extreme depth. The channel was formed by a depression between two hillocks 250 ft. high or so. The settlement of Obidos consisted of two long white buildings near the water, and a series of stores. To the left of the village as we looked at it was a high cliff extending for some 2,000 m. up stream over a beautiful beach. The cliff showed patches of red and yellow rock of a brilliant colour, the lower strata being of a deep red and clearly defined, the upper ones of a raw sienna colour, the dividing-line between the two colours being somewhat undulating. There was dense forest on the summit of the cliff. A good deal of vegetation had crept down and was clinging to the side of the cliff.

A little white church with a pointed spire stood on the highest point of the cliff, close to the town. Behind the cliff rose a hill of some height, upon which the better houses, with red-tiled roofs, were situated. A wide road led up to them.

The water of the stream was of a dirty yellow, and very turbulent owing to the strong wind that was blowing and the violent current. Proceeding up stream, we then came to a hill 300 ft. high on the[400] right, which ended abruptly in an almost vertical red and yellow cliff plunging into the water. On the opposite side of the river, along the narrow neck, were lowlands, quite open and scantily wooded, over which rose great columns of black smoke, caused by the natives burning down the forest in order to prepare the land for their plantations. It was at this point that the entire volume of the Amazon could be gauged at a glance. As you looked up stream a long bluish line of low forest could be perceived over the gradually expanding deep yellow river. Dozens upon dozens of columns of smoke were visible. When night came the effects of those forest fires, with the reflection of the light upon the low clouds and in the water, were very weird and beautiful.

Greetings were occasionally exchanged upon the river as a big ocean steamer went by, or an over-enthusiastic captain let off rockets, which brought all the passengers from the dinner-table to the port-holes. Farther on we came to a pretty plantation on the left with innumerable banana palms crowded together, and some cocoa trees. At one time the exportation of cocoa from that section of the Amazon between Obidos and Santarem was considerable—some 8,000 kilos yearly. I was told that that industry has now gone down a great deal, and not more than 4,000 kilos were exported in 1911.

Campas Woman.

Campas Man, Woman and Child.

As we went farther up stream we passed alluvial banks of comparatively recent formation, in some places only one foot above the water and liable to constant inundation—in other places 10 or 12 ft. above the stream, and exposing an abrupt crumbling[401] section of grey clay on a lower stratum with a narrow band of raw sienna colour. This yellow band rarely exceeded a thickness of 1 ft. We had an object-lesson here, where the banks were eroded by water and were gradually crumbling away, of the reason why the trees were so anæmic and generally died. The roots, instead of burrowing deep into the ground, spread out laterally in a horizontal position quite close to the surface of the ground. That night we had a beautiful effect of rain and smoke and the reflection from the fires, a wonderful study of reds and yellows and dark blues which would have fascinated the immortal painter Turner.

Farther on we passed an island 6 ft. above the water with beautiful green grass upon it, wonderful grazing land, and no trees whatever. On both sides of the channel we followed, in fact, we had fine open country all around, which seemed excellent for grazing purposes.

More interesting to me than the river itself were the wonderful effects of the ever-changing light in the sky. I saw no more the wonderful radiations which had given me so much pleasure in Matto Grosso, but we beheld here a great haze of delicate tones up to a great height and a light blue sky above it. The clouds seemed to possess no well-defined form, but were more like masses of mist, the edges blending gradually with the blue of the sky. Only to the west was there an attempt at globular formation in the clouds. The clouds of heavy smoke which rose and rolled about over the landscape helped to render the otherwise monotonous scene a little more picturesque.

[402] Farther up stream we reached on the right a long island almost absolutely free from trees, except at its western end, where a miserable growth of sickly trees covered its point. Beyond was a beautiful spit of red sand some 2,000 m. long.

On November 15th we reached Itaquatiara, where the banks of the river were much higher than usual on the right side. I was much struck by the sight of a lot of fallen timber lying about on the slopes of the high bank, and by that of innumerable logs of wood floating on the water, quite an unusual sight in Brazilian waters. Itaquatiara was placed geographically on a most convenient site, opposite the mouth of the great Madeira River. Now that the Madeira-Mamore railway is completed, bringing down the trade of Bolivia and of the Acre territory, there is no doubt that it will become a most important trading centre. To my mind it is bound to supplant Manaos, which is very inconveniently situated, not on the Amazon River itself but on the tributary Rio Negro.

All the rubber which goes down the Madeira River has so far been conveyed to Manaos by a great detour, involving much expense and time. In the future, I think, when Itaquatiara has developed into a big city, and proper arrangements are made for landing and storing cargoes, it is certain to become a most important centre of commerce. Land is already going up in value tremendously, although Manaos has waged war against the growth of a town at that spot, which will be inimical to her own interests.

The Ucayalli River.

The Launch on which Author travelled almost to the Foot of the Andes.

As is well known, the Madeira-Mamore railway was built from Porto Velho, on the Madeira River,[403] around and along a series of rapids and waterfalls which rendered navigation most difficult, as far as Guajara Merim, on the river Mamore, a mere continuation of the Madeira River. The construction of the railway had long been contemplated by the Brazilian and Bolivian Governments, but it was a difficult matter owing to the dense forest and the unhealthy climate, which equals, if it does not even surpass, the deadliness of Panama in the time of the French. The works of the railway were begun as long ago as 1878 by Collings Brothers, who were then contractors, but nothing effectively was done until the Brazilian Government, fully realizing the necessity of opening up that rich country, especially after the purchase from Bolivia of the Acre Territory, perhaps one of the richest regions on earth as far as rubber is concerned, entered into a contract with a Brazilian engineer named Catambry, to build the railway. The Brazilian engineer transferred the contract to Mr. Percival Farquhar, who, in his turn, organized the Madeira-Mamore Company, entrusting the actual construction of the railway to Messrs. May, Jeckill & Randolph.

They started work in July, 1907, with preliminary engineering, the actual construction not beginning until January 1908. Work began with one engine, a Baldwin locomotive rebuilt, which had been there since 1878. Gradually the number of engines—all Baldwin locomotives—was increased to twelve. During the construction six tugs and eleven lighters were used on the Madeira River for handling the material. The contractors took into Brazil during[404] the four and a half years occupied in the construction from 43,000 to 45,000 men, although they never had more than 5,000 men working at any one time. Many, indeed, were the deaths registered, and the steamers were constantly bringing back men laid up with fever. The supplies for those men had all to be brought from Europe and America, except sugar and coffee, as nothing could be obtained in the country itself. The four chief engineers were all Americans, Mr. Randolph and Mr. Jeckill, who were at the head of the entire concern, spending all their time on the line in progress or at their head office in Manaos, which was mostly in charge of Mr. May. One chief surgeon, Dr. Carl Lovelace, handled all the hospital work, with the assistance of fifteen physicians; but innumerable were the lives lost from yellow fever and beri-beri, the two most prevalent diseases in that fatal country.

Campas Family wading across a Stream.

A Farmhouse on the Andes.

Before the railway was built it was necessary to unload the battellãos or trading boats thirty-eight times during the journey at the thirty-eight different rapids and falls on the way. The journey over the rapids took not less than forty days. I shall not speak of the constant danger to boats, their crews and merchandise. Now by the railway the entire journey occupies from eight to ten hours. The length of the completed railway, now in full working order, is 364 kil. The last rail was laid on April 30th, 1912, when Mrs. Jeckill drove the last and golden spike—an honour which no other white woman, I believe, has ever had in so inhospitable a country.

[405]

## CHAPTER XXIV

Attacked by Beri-beri—A Journey up the Madeira River to the Relief of Filippe the Negro and Recovery of Valuable Baggage left with him—Filippe paid off—A Journey up the River Solimeõs—Iquitos

I arrived in Manaos in the evening of November 15th. I was very ill indeed, my right foot so swollen that I could hardly stand on it, and so painful that I could not put on a shoe or even a slipper, so that I had to hop about with only a sock over it. The doctor on board had told me that I was suffering from beri-beri, and although I tried not to believe him I was gradually forced to the conclusion that he was right. In fact, atrophy set in by degrees—one of the characteristics of beri-beri being that after a time you feel no pain at all. You can dig a pin into the affected part, or pluck off all the hairs without feeling the slightest pain. I was in a bad way, although I never laid up for an entire day. From the moment I arrived I "got busy," to use an American expression, in order to go to the rescue of Filippe the negro and another man I had left in charge of my valuable baggage near the mouth of the Canuma River, a tributary of the Madeira. It was necessary for me to borrow or charter a steam launch for one or two days, so that I could save men and baggage. I applied to the Governor of[406] the Amazonas, who had received telegraphic instructions from the Central Government to give me every possible assistance. When I called upon him he said he was not the "black servant" of the President of the Republic; that he was practically an independent ruler, and would obey nobody's orders or instructions, especially from the Central Government.

On the Andes: an Elevated Trail overlooking a Foaming Torrent.

(See arch cut in the rock.)

I told him that the work I had done was principally for the good of Brazil; that all I asked him was to help me to save the lives of two Brazilian citizens, and the maps, photographs, etc., which would be useful chiefly to Brazilians, whatever their political views were. I would gladly pay out of my own pocket, within reasonable bounds, all expenses in connection with the trip. If I had applied to him it was only because I had found it impossible at Manaos to charter a steam launch.

I spread out before the Governor a map of South America, showing the journey I had taken from Rio de Janeiro to Manaos marked in red. The Governor, who had evidently never seen a map before, turned it upside down, mistook the entire map of South America for a map of his own Province, and seemed to be under the impression that the Amazon had its birth close to Rio de Janeiro.

A bitter enemy of all foreigners, especially Englishmen, the Governor was detested by everybody, and was at open war with the Commandante of the Federal troops in the town. All the money which should have been spent in embellishing or improving the town, was mis-spent in keeping a large army of police—over 2,000 men, I believe—for his personal protection.

[407] My audience with the Governor did not last long, and I paid him back in his own coin. He immediately turned round then, with great courtesy begging me to stay and talk matters over, and said that he would be delighted to be of use to me in showing me around the city. I merely turned my back upon him, as I would on any nonentity, and limped out of the palace. Several messages were sent to me afterwards, which I treated with the contempt they deserved.

As nearly all the launches in the place belonged to the Government, I had then to apply to the Commandante of the flotilla of the Government boats. It will be easily understood that my anxiety was great to go and rescue my men; so that on leaving the palace I immediately proceeded to the private house of this gentleman—a great friend of the Governor, I learned afterwards. On sending in my card at five o'clock in the afternoon I was kept waiting a little time, then there appeared a yellow-faced individual in his pyjamas, muttering words which I should not like to repeat.

"What do you want?" he said to me. "Do you not know that I sleep from twelve to six every afternoon? What do you mean by disturbing me? I am sure you would not disturb officers of your own Navy in this way!"

I very politely answered that the officers of my Navy were well known for being wide awake at all times, and not for sleeping the whole day as well as the entire night. When I explained to him, and presented the order from the Minister of Marine requesting any officer of the Brazilian Navy to give every possible[408] assistance, he told me that none of his boats were in a condition to move out; furthermore they were needed, as great political trouble was expected in the city.

I was beginning to feel anxious, as in my weak state it would have been a serious matter for me to undertake the river journey in a small rowing-boat, which journey would have occupied several weeks, when I could have done the whole thing in two or three days at the most in a steam launch. Even a rowing-boat was not obtainable unless you purchased it outright, and if you obtained the boat you could not obtain the men to row it.

It is extraordinary how many things in the world depend on absolute chance. When I returned, sadly disappointed, to the hotel, I met a Swiss gentleman, Dr. Alberto Maso, who was in the employ of the Brazilian Government as delegate of the Minister of Agriculture for the Territory of the Acre. I had met him in Rio de Janeiro a year before. I told him what had happened that day with the Governor and the Commandante of the Flotilla. Dr. Maso immediately took the matter in hand.

That same evening there was a meeting of the Associação Commercial do Amazonas, a most useful society in Manaos composed of the cleverest and soundest business men of that place. I was presented to the President, Mr. J. G. Araujo, and to Dr. Bertino Miranda, the honorary secretary—the latter a man of letters of great distinction, well known not only in his own country but in Latin countries all over Europe as well.

[409] I was received by these gentlemen and the other members of the Association with the greatest consideration, and before I left that evening they assured me that they would procure a launch for me with which to go and rescue my men.

The next morning, in fact, I was taken to call on the Commandante of the Federal troops, who willingly and most courteously placed at my disposal his steam launch. A delay of several days took place, as unfortunately the steam launch had lost her propeller and it was necessary to make a new one. Also the engine had to be repaired, and a crew had to be engaged—a task which gave all those concerned a considerable amount of trouble.

I had, of course, to pay for the maintenance of the crew during the journey, and it cost me nearly a hundred pounds to fit her out with all the plates, knives, cooking utensils, and other paraphernalia necessary for her crew of sixteen men. In any other country three men would have been more than sufficient to run a launch of that size.

I also had to employ at my own expense a pilot—no steamboat was allowed to go without one—whom I had to pay at the rate of £7 15s. sterling a day. A cook had to be employed for the crew, as none of the sailors could be induced to condescend to be the chef. Two applicants were eventually found. One who was willing to do the cooking at a salary of £3 10s. a day, his chief ability, said he, consisting in boiling rice and fish. Another fellow eventually undertook the job at a salary of £1 10s. a day, he being willing to do the cooking at such a small salary as he said[410] he had never in his life cooked before, and he did not know whether we should care for his cooking or not. It must not for one moment be believed that these men were trying to cheat me, and putting on prices, for indeed these are the current rates for everybody who wishes to travel in those regions. The cost of commodities of any kind in Manaos was excessive, and went beyond even the limits of robbery. I went into a chemist's shop to purchase a small bottle of quinine tablets, worth in England perhaps eightpence or a shilling. The price charged there was £2 10s.

Principally owing to the Booth Line Steamship Company and the allied companies, Manaos has become a good-sized place. The Harbour Works and the works made by the Manaos Improvements, Ltd., have been a great boon to that place, and have made it almost as civilized as a third-class European city. But obstacles have been placed in the way of honest foreign companies carrying on their work successfully, the unscrupulous behaviour of the Governor and the attitude of the mob having proved serious drawbacks to the development of the place.

La Mercedes.

The Avenue of Eucalypti near the Town of Tarma (Andes).

Large sums of money have been wasted in building a strawberry-coloured theatre of immense size and of appalling architectural lines, on the top of which has been erected a tiled dome of gigantic proportions over an immense water-tank in order to protect the theatre against fire. The water-tank was calculated to let down a great cascade of water, a regular Niagara, on the flames—as well as on the spectators, I presume. After it had been built it was discovered that if water were let into the tank, its weight would[411] be enough to bring down the entire upper part of the theatre; so that it could never be filled at all.

Except for one or two short avenues, which reminded one of the suburbs of new North American cities, there was nothing worth seeing in Manaos. The shops were almost entirely those of jewellers, gunsmiths, sweet-sellers, and chemists. It was in this place that the poor seringueiros, on their return from rubber collecting, were in a few hours robbed of all the money they had made during several months' hard work. There was only one redeeming feature in Manaos: the British and American business men in the place were most charming and hospitable in every possible way.

It was on December 3rd, 1911, that everything was ready. The hour of departure had been fixed for ten o'clock in the evening. I went on board at the appointed time, but the captain of the launch and the crew refused to put out of the anchorage, as they said they would not go unless some extra men were employed. One of the pipes of the engine had been wilfully damaged, so that delay was caused, and we could not possibly start until it had been repaired. The captain of the launch had worried me for several days. He was in a constant state of intoxication.

On December 4th, at 11 p.m., I was actually able to make my departure from Manaos on the launch Amazonas. I took in tow a rowing-boat which had been lent me by the representative of the Minister of Agriculture in Manaos.

By 8.30 in the morning of December 5th we en[412]tered the mouth of the Madeira River. I was surprised at the sudden change in the appearance of the two rivers. We saw in the Madeira high, gently sloping banks, covered with verdant grass and neat trees and palms along the top of them; whereas along the Amazon the trees stood almost in the water on the recently formed islands and banks. The left bank of the Madeira was of grey and reddish clay (grey below, red above), cut vertically, sometimes actually in steps. Blocks of a rectangular shape, in getting dried up, split and fell over, leaving the banks vertical. The right bank, on the contrary, was gently sloping, descending with a beautiful carpet of green grass into the stream. The islands were charming, with lovely lawns all round. Blackish and deep red rock, vertical and fluted, and with innumerable perforations, could be seen here and there, covered over with a padding of earth from ten to twenty feet deep.

The journey up the Madeira River had no great interest. By seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at the mouth of the Canuma River—or rather at a channel connecting the Madeira River with the river Canuma, which river actually has its proper mouth about half-way between Itaquatiara and Santarem, at a place called Parintins. By way of the connecting channel the two rivers were only a short distance apart, but that channel was not always navigable. The steam launch, which drew little water, would have difficulty in going through, even at that time, when the water was fairly high.

On the Andes.

A Street of Tarma.

We therefore thought we would stay for the night at the mouth of the channel, and start on our journey[413] by that difficult passage in broad daylight the next day. There was a house on the right-hand side of the mouth of the channel. While we made preparations to make ourselves comfortable for the night on the launch, the pilot went up to the house in order to get an expert at that place to take us through the dangerous channel.

I was just in the middle of my dinner when the pilot sent down a message for me to go up to the house at once, as my presence was required immediately. I struggled up the steep incline, not knowing what was up. Much to my amazement, on reaching the house, I saw before me my man Filippe the negro, who rushed at me and embraced me tenderly, and the other man I had left with him in charge of the baggage. The two men had been picked up by a boat two days up the river Canuma, where I had left them with my baggage, and they had come down expecting to meet me in Manaos. They had got stranded at that place, and although they had hailed one or two steamers which had gone down the river, no one had paid any attention to them, and there they had remained.

"Have you saved the photographs and the baggage, Filippe?" I immediately asked, when I had made certain that both men were in good condition.

"Yes," said Filippe. "I have everything with me. I have taken the greatest care of everything."

That was for me a happy moment, after all the vicissitudes we had had of late. The most important part of my baggage was saved. I had taken all my men back alive—if perhaps not very much alive—after so fateful an expedition. I felt happy beyond words.

[414] The man who owned the house was the trader who had taken Filippe and the other man down the river in his boat, so I gave him a present of money and also a lot of provisions which I had on board and which we should not now need any more, as we should return at once to Manaos.

The Market Place, Tarma.

Next morning, all as happy as possible, we steamed down full speed on our way back to Manaos. We came in for dirty weather all the time, which obliged us to halt for several hours and put into Itaquatiara for shelter. A few hours later we were once more in the capital of the Amazonas, in the city of jewellers' shops and filthy food. On landing I found Maxim guns and artillery on one side of the principal square, with police troops in charge of them ready to fire; while on the other side were the Federal troops, also with their artillery ready for battle. It was with some concern that I found myself obliged to pass between those warlike bodies in order to enter the hotel. I was not so anxious for myself as I was for my photographic negatives and note-books, after I had taken all that trouble to save them.

However, the Governor at the last moment became scared, and went personally to call on the Commandante of the Federal troops in order to assure him of his friendship and affection, so that after all no battle took place that day.

Only a short time previously the flotilla had bombarded the town. The people of Manaos had got so accustomed to those little excitements that they thought nothing of them. There were occasionally a few people killed, but that was all.

[415] It will be remembered that the idée fixe of Filippe the negro was to buy himself a mallettinha (a little trunk). The first thing he had asked me after I had rescued him was if I had seen any good mallettinhas in Manaos. So after landing we at once proceeded to buy a tin mallettinha with a strong lock. Then I paid him off and gave him an ample reward, as he had been the pluckiest and most faithful of all my men. He was certainly the man who had given me the least trouble of the entire lot.

Filippe had tears in his eyes when he received his pay and present. He embraced me and thanked me a million times for having made him a rich man.

"After all," said he, "we have suffered a great deal, but now I shall be happy for ever. I shall marry the girl who is waiting for me at home."

"If ever I come out on another journey, Filippe, will you go with me again?" I asked him.

Filippe pondered for a moment. "Yes," he said with determination. "I have proved to you that I am afraid of nothing. You only have to order me, and I will go with you. Even if we are to suffer again as we have suffered on this journey!"

Filippe was a good fellow.

The other man when paid off received his money and his reward silently. He went out into the street, and returned four hours later without one single penny. He had purchased an expensive suit of clothes, a number of silk neckties, a gold chain, watch, etc.

The next morning there was a steamer sailing for Rio de Janeiro, so I packed off the jubilant Filippe,[416] paying a second-class passage for him on the steamer and a first-class on the railway, as I had done for the other men, with wages up to the day of his arrival in Araguary, his native town.

Thus I saw the last of that plucky man—the only one who had remained of the six who had originally started with me.

On December 16th I left Manaos for good on my way to Peru, escorted to the good Booth Line steamer Atahualpa by the Commandante of the Federal troops, the representatives of the Associação Commercial, Dr. Maso, and some of my English and American friends.

It was with the greatest delight that I saw Manaos vanish away from sight as we descended the Rio Negro. Rounding the point at its mouth, steaming towards the west, we entered the Solemões River. This river is navigable by fairly good-sized boats as far as Iquitos, in the province of Loreto in Peru.

The Highest Point where Author crossed the Andes before reaching the Railway at Oroya.

I was badly in need of rest, and expected to get it on those few days of navigation up the river, having dreamt of how I could lie on deck and do nothing, as that part was well known and there was no work for me to do. But, indeed, on that journey none of my dreams were realized, for, worse luck, the steamer, which had only accommodation for ten, carried not less than seventy or eighty passengers, fifty of them forming part of a Spanish theatrical company which was on its way to Iquitos. The deck of the ship had been turned into a kind of theatre, where rehearsals went on day and night. When the rehearsals were not going on, the men and women, following the usual habits of theatrical people, sang[417] and practised flights of notes—which was a little trying after the dead silence of the forest.

However, thanks to the great civility of the managers of the Booth Line at Manaos, and to the extreme thoughtfulness of the captain of the Atahualpa, I was made quite comfortable in the chart-room of the ship, which was as far away as possible from the noise. We were most of the time in mid-stream. The river was so wide that we could not see anything on either side. We steamed up day after day, occasionally passing islands of some beauty rising above the muddy waters of the Solimões. Navigation of that river was difficult, as the navigable channels were constantly changing, islands disappearing and new islands forming all the time. Elich Island, in the Timbuctuba group, was fast disappearing, while another island was forming just below it.

We passed the mouth of the Putumayo River at sunset one day, a most wonderful effect of clouds being produced over a brilliant cadmium yellow and vermilion sky, shining with great brightness above the dark green trees upon a high reddish cliff.

In a drenching morning at five o'clock we reached Esperança, the Brazilian frontier post, which consisted of half a dozen one-storied houses with red-tiled roofs, situated on a grassy expanse. Grassy hills of no great height rose at the mouth of the Javari River, a southern tributary of the Solimões River, forming there the boundary between Brazil and Peru. Dark green foliage perched high up on asparagus-like stems of trees formed a background to that wretchedly miserable place.

[418] Tabatinga, on the left side of the stream, was the Brazilian military post on the frontier. A neatly-built, loopholed, square blockhouse, painted white, was situated some fifty feet above the level of the river on the summit of the bank. It was reached by a long flight of white cement steps. The Brazilian flag flew gaily upon a flagstaff at this most westerly point of the great Brazilian Republic on the Amazon (Solimões) River.

A few soldiers dressed in khaki stood, with their legs wide apart, watching the arrival of the steamer, while their officers in speckless white clothes hastily descended the long flight of steps and came on board, bringing bouquets of flowers to the captain.

There was a pretty garden near the blockhouse. Three mountain guns pointed viciously at the river from the most exposed position in Tabatinga at the top of the staircase. According to the account of a non-commissioned officer, there was a force there of 240 soldiers "escondido no matto"—that is to say, kept hidden in the forest!

After we had passed the frontier on the north side of the river, a tiny tributary brook, almost hidden by the vegetation and only identified by a white-barked tree on the left bank and huts on either side, the scenery made a change for the better.

Leticia was the name of the Peruvian frontier post, which consisted of two or three brick sheds with corrugated iron roofs.

We arrived at Iquitos on December 23rd, at 8.30 a.m., having employed seven days and twenty hours on our run from Manaos.

[419]

## CHAPTER XXV

From Iquitos to the Foot of the Andes up the Rivers Ucayalli, Pachitea and Pichis—The Cashibos or "Vampire Indians"

The change in the characteristics of the people the moment you were in Peru was considerable, and striking was the neatness of the buildings. Iquitos was a pleasant little city, the streets of which needed paving badly, but were otherwise well aligned and tidy. There were numbers of foreigners there, including a small English colony made up of employés of the Booth Line and the representatives of a few commercial houses. It is difficult to realize how pleasant Englishmen can be when they live in those out-of-the-way places.

After the Putumayo atrocities a proper English Consulate, in charge of Mr. Mitchell, formerly our vice-consul in Paris, had been established there. Yellow fever was rampant at that time in Iquitos, and reaped many victims daily.

Although Iquitos was 2,300 kil. farther up the river than Manaos, the price of all commodities in that country was less than half those in Manaos, and the quality of the articles twice as good. That is what comes of having free trade instead of a high tariff.

I spent a pleasant Christmas in Iquitos, all the[420] English residents there showing me the greatest kindness. From Iquitos the river was no longer navigable for ocean-going steamers, and it was necessary to travel by small launches. There was no regular service, but there were a number of trading launches which went a certain distance up the river in order to trade with the different houses on the banks of the stream. The travelling was not particularly rapid, as one stopped ten or twenty times a day, and wasted endless time while the people came on board to buy beer or rum, or cotton goods, looking-glasses, etc., etc. Rubber and aigrettes, as well as money, were given in exchange for the goods received.

I left Iquitos on December 29th, on the launch Rimac, belonging to the Swiss firm of Messikommer. I was told that she would be ready to start at 9 a.m. sharp on December 28th, and at that time I got on board. The actual time of our departure was at 6.30 in the afternoon of December 29th. That was, of course, Iquitos punctuality.

The Prefect of the Province of Loreto had shown me much civility, and had telegraphed, by the wireless installation which had been established between Iquitos and Lima, making every possible arrangement for me to travel quickly. Thus, although in a terrible condition of health, I was able to make a record journey between Iquitos and Lima, the capital of Peru.

Oroya.

Oroya, the Highest Railway Station in the World.

Once started in the launch Rimac, we went through interesting channels, outlets of the main stream being often noticeable on either bank, cutting wide passages through the forest and forming one or more shallow lakelets, with innumerable aquatic plants on the[421] surface of the water. As we went farther it became easy to understand how islands were constantly forming in the river. Quantities of large and small logs of wood were continually floating down the stream; the banks were gradually being eaten away by the current. Whole trees fell down with their immense branches and polypi-like roots, and formed a barrier arresting the progress of the floating wood. Particles of earth deposited by wind and by water saturated with impurities settled there. Soon grass would begin to grow on those deposits, which quickly collected more deposits of flying and floating particles. The soft bottom of the river, disturbed by the deviated current, piled up mud against the submerged branches resting on the river-bed. Quickly an island was then formed; more wood accumulated, more grass, more mud; the base of the islands would increase rapidly, and in the space of a few years islands several kilometres in length rose above the water.

We had reached a point where the two great rivers Marañon and Ucayalli—both descending from the Andes—joined and formed the river Solimões, which we had so far navigated. We followed the Ucayalli.

On December 31st we entered a small arm on the left side of the river and we reached no less a place than New York—very dissimilar, I can assure you, from its namesake of the United States of North America. Far from seeing skyscrapers, brilliantly illuminated streets, and ferry-boats and steamers galore, there were only half a dozen thatched huts with bona-palm walls and floors. In the water floated two or three small canoes; that was all. The place[422] was chiefly remarkable for the number and the fierceness of its mosquitoes—regular clouds of them. Only one thing New York of Ucayalli seemed to have in common with New York of the United States—the people seemed to be able to stand a lot of drink. They purchased from the Rimac a number of boxes of beer.

We proceeded. In a way it was amusing to travel on a trading boat. Every time we approached a hut the steamer blew her whistle; the people got up, at any time of the night, to come on board and see what there was for sale. I slept on deck, and from my bed could see what was going on all the time.

St. Helena came next, with its depot and farmhouse. A few cows could be seen grazing on the poorest kind of grass. We could often get good fruit at those farmhouses, principally bananas, pineapples, and mamão. Then we stopped at Requeña, on the left bank of the river, where a wireless telegraphic station of the Telefunken system was established. It was quite a nice little place, with a few houses, built of unbaked clay and roofed with zinc.

In the Andes at 16,000 Feet above the Sea Level.

The Highest Point of the Oroya Railway: the Galera Tunnel.

It was entertaining to watch the pride of the local gentlemen when they showed me their houses—mere sheds of the humblest description, but in their eyes far superior to any palace of Europe. An imported chair or an antiquated desk would supply them with conversation to last hours. The wives of those settlers were generally eccentric persons who looked suspiciously at us. One of them at Requeña made me feel most uncomfortable by the annoying way in which she looked at my only shoe—as I was unable[423] to put a shoe on the other much swollen foot. She never took her eyes off that shoe, and stooped down many times to examine it closer.

A short distance from Requeña, still on the left side of the river, was the mouth of the Tapiche River, a tributary of the Ucayalli. On the right bank of this river was California, and then Avispa—a pretty spot. Two new red-roofed houses with large verandas stood prominent on a green grassy hill about 120 ft. high, while on the ridge in continuation of the hill itself could be seen a number of small houses, some with zinc roofs, others with bona roofs and walls.

The Ucayalli was a rich stream. It was interesting to notice how many trading launches were to be seen on that river, and the amazing part of it was that they could all exist. Hardly a day went by that we did not meet two or three launches. We were also constantly meeting canoes, generally hollowed out of tree-trunks, and larger boats of a more solid construction.

The population was entirely composed of a mixture of Spanish and Indian types and of pure Indians. Some of the latter had Mongolian characteristics; others were more of the Malay and Papuan types.

After the first day or two the voyage on the launch was tedious. One got tired of the endless conversation and of listening to the bargaining. The perpetual drinking which had to be witnessed was of little interest to a teetotaller. One seldom saw money change hands, all being done by barter, the merchandise we had on board being exchanged chiefly for rubber. Even so far up the river civilization had well set in,[424] and great caution was needed in buying balls of rubber. It was advisable to split them in two before purchase, as they generally contained all kinds of rubbish instead of pure coagulated latex.

After Brazil, however, the villages and houses of Peru looked clean and neat.

The prices of food were somewhat high, chickens fetching 4s. each, whereas in Iquitos they fetched from 8s. to 10s.; eggs sold for 6d. each, and were generally bad, the good ones being eaten by the people themselves.

We went up the Tapiche River, a tributary on the right bank, and visited the estate newly bought by an American company. In fact, we were there at midnight of December 31st, and drank in the New Year with Mr. Anzelius, the director, and his Polish and Italian assistants.

On January 2nd, 1912, we saw a great many Indians along the banks of the river, who ran away when they saw the camera pointed at them.

The people on that river were fond of giving high-sounding names to their houses. We passed a place called Philadelphia, where a large farm with lean cattle, ducks and fowls, could be seen, looking as miserable as possible; also plenty of banana palms and sugar-cane.

Some way off, after passing the large saw-mills of Cumaseba and Tamanco, where an interesting collection of animals and Indian weapons had been made by the proprietor, we came in the evening to the farm of Buenos Aires.

The Oroya Railway.

(A great spring emerging from the mountain-side.)

Beautiful Scenery on the Peruvian Corporation Railway to Cuzco, Peru.

Early on January 3rd we passed San Roque, and[425] then Condorcanqui, a fine plantation of bananas along the river bank, and also a plantation of yuta (jute) and some bread trees. Clouds of aigrette storks could be seen in the evening circling about, thousands and thousands of them. They produced a most curious effect in the distance against the heavy black clouds of the sky.

We entered the Yanna Yakka stream, the water of which was almost absolutely stagnant and as black as ink, full of snakes, fish, and crocodiles. Yanna Yakka in the local Indian language means "black water." We steamed for two hours up that river as far as Porto Central, the river being quite narrow—only 150 m. wide. We eventually arrived at the prettiest spot I had so far seen on the river, called Porto Principal. On an elongated island not more than 80 m. wide were to be seen four large buildings of bona palm, with spacious verandas and corrugated iron roofs. The buildings were connected by high bridges. All those structures were built on piles 12 ft. high. Many chapaha palms of great height were to be seen there.

I heard at that place an extraordinary account of how a dirigible balloon, with nobody on board, had some few years before passed over the house. The balloon—which my informant, in his ignorant language, called a "huge square globe"—flew, according to him, a flag, the stars and stripes, and had an anchor dangling down. The balloon was travelling in a westerly direction. It flew a little higher than the trees, and caused a great scare among the natives. My informant told me that there was no one in the car at all, but they waved their hands at him (sic)[426] when they passed over his house! He then told me that the air-ship had passed in the daytime and had quickly disappeared, but that it was beautifully lighted with coloured lights at night. So that it would be difficult from that truthful account to place much reliance on what the man said or on what he had seen at all. It is quite possible—after discarding all the indisputable embroidery from the story—that a balloon actually went over that place, and it may probably have been Wellman's abandoned balloon with which he had tried to go across the Atlantic.

On January 3rd and 4th we had no great excitement. We stopped at numberless places. Nearly all the houses in that district were made in three sections, the two end rooms enclosed in bona-palm walls, while the central and larger room had two open sides. All the houses were perched up on piles, owing to the frequent inundations. Sewing-machines and gramophones were to be found in nearly every house. All the women wore, rather becomingly over such ugly countenances, the valuable hats which generally go under the name of "Panamas." The river was getting beautiful as we went farther up, immense grassy stretches being visible where the country was not inundated, and low shrubs emerging from the water in the many channels that were formed everywhere.

A. B. Leguia, the President of the Peruvian Republic.

On January 5th we arrived at Terra Blanca, where a lakelet had been formed by an outlet of the river on the left bank. A place called Pernambuco was situated at the entrance of this lake. The water of the lake was beautifully clear and of a wonderful[427] greenish colour. Beautiful white and yellow sand deposits were to be found around it. Five hundred people lived at Pernambuco. The Rimac did a brisk trade, over a hundred pounds sterling worth of goods being sold in an hour at that place.

On January 6th I saw the first hills of importance we had seen since leaving the lower Amazon. Those were the hills of Petronilla, where a mass of volcanic rocks and some interesting hot springs were to be found. A ridge ran from south-east to north-west in symmetrical undulations up to 1,000 ft. from Petronilla to Cancha Huayo. It rose quite abruptly from the flat alluvial land. Where a land-slide had occurred it showed an upper stratum of grey alluvial deposit 10 ft. thick, with soft yellow volcanic rock underneath, in a stratum of 30 ft. thick. It seemed as if that hill had been lifted up by volcanic pressure from underneath, as a lot of white and yellow sand had been brought to the surface, which evidently formed a substratum in the Ucayalli region.

We found strong whirlpools where the channel of the river formed an elbow at the foot of the mountain. The steam launch made poor progress against the strong current.

On January 7th we arrived at the large settlement of Condamano, a sub-Prefecture in the big province of Loreto. There were two parallel streets, clean and well kept, with others intersecting at right angles. On the main street along the water front were many large commercial houses, handsome buildings of caña walls and zinc roofs. The place had been built on a flat high land about 30 ft. above the river, and had[428] some 1,500 to 2,000 inhabitants. One of the peculiarities of Condamano was that during the rubber-collecting season the population consisted almost entirely of women, as the men were in the forest collecting the latex.

We arrived there on a feast day—they have more feast days than working days in the week in that country—and the streets were alive with monks and soldiers, the only men who do not go collecting rubber. Women and girls, in flesh-coloured stockings and lace mantillas, flocked out of the church, each carrying a small carpet which they used to prevent spoiling their finery when kneeling down.

On leaving Condamano we came to the north-westerly end of the range we had seen the day before. It ended abruptly in almost vertical walls of yellow sandstone of various shades. The range was thickly wooded on its summit. The opposite bank of the river was absolutely flat.

That evening we came in for a heavy storm, which compelled us to halt from 6 o'clock until 2.10 a.m. Black clouds had accumulated overhead to the west. A boisterous gust of wind suddenly caught us, which swept off our chicken-coop, buckets, and other loose things which were on the roof of the launch. We were tossed about in a most alarming way, and were just able to tie up under shelter and make fast to some trees. The wind increased in fury, and the launch tore up her moorings, bringing down a big tree on the top of us with a tremendous crash.

The American Observatory, Arequipa, and Mount Misti, Peru.

On the Peruvian Corporation Railway on the way to Cuzco.

There was a stampede on board, as everybody thought we had been struck by lightning. Some of[429] the people were just able to jump on shore, while other Peruvians, men and women, scared to death by the diabolic clashing of thunder and the vivid lightning, knelt on the decks and prayed fervently that we might escape unhurt.

I had a narrow escape, a lighted petroleum lamp which swung above getting off its hook and falling on my head, upsetting all the petroleum over me. Fortunately it went out as it fell on me. In the middle of the night we had a great deal of trouble to make the boat fast once more, the waves in the river being of great height. The rattle of all the merchandise and broken crockery on board, the moans of the scared Peruvians, with the howling of the wind, made a regular pandemonium.

When we proceeded up the river next morning we came upon more interesting islands in course of formation. We saw quantities of caña baraba, wild cane, with its fan-disposed, elongated leaves. The natives used the reeds for walling their houses. Being absolutely straight, they are well adapted for that purpose.

On January 9th we passed several villages. Along the banks we saw many Indians, all dressed up in bright costumes, principally red shawls. We entered a tiny channel on the right bank and went as far as a place called San Jeronimo, a fairly large settlement. This small channel was, as late as 1895, the main stream, which has since been diverted by the formation of a low island. At sunset we perceived to the west what appeared at first a mass of low clouds revolving in a circle at a great speed. On[430] closer inspection we found it to be millions of garças or aigrette storks flying in a circle.

I arrived in the evening of January 10th at Masisea, where another wireless telegraph station had been established by the Peruvian Government. At this place I left the launch Rimac, and found the Government launch Esploradora, which had been detained there by the Prefect of Loreto for two days, awaiting my arrival. Having transhipped at once, I was able to proceed on January 11th on the latter. She was to take me as far as possible toward the foot of the Andes.

As we proceeded up the river we saw extensive farms surrounded by clearings of good land, with lots of cattle and horses, especially on the left bank of the river. We purchased an ox, so as to have fresh meat on board.

The small launch was, unfortunately, packed with a great many Peruvian travellers. There were no cabins, and one had to sleep on the roof of the launch. Everybody was most civil, and with the new camp-bed I had purchased in Manaos I was able to make myself as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances.

Beautiful specimens of cataua trees of great height were constantly to be seen in the forest along the banks. The resin from these trees is extremely poisonous, and is much used by the local Indians for killing fish. We halted for five hours that day in order to take on board sufficient wood for the engines to last us the entire journey. At 6.30 that afternoon we left the Ucayalli river and entered the tributary Pachitea, on the left side, the Ucayalli describing a[431] big curve where the Pachitea enters it. Just before reaching the mouth of the Pachitea, the Ucayalli had first a big arm deviating from the main stream on the left bank, then soon after another great arm also on the left side. The navigation of those rivers was now getting difficult, and we had to halt at night.

On January 12th we started up the Pachitea River, a stream much smaller than the Ucayalli, but more interesting. Soon after departing we could perceive in the distance before us a high hill range. Crocodiles and white storks were innumerable, while fallen trees impeded navigation constantly. Once or twice we banged with such force against immense floating logs of wood that it made the launch quiver in a most alarming way. In the dirty water of the stream it was not always possible to detect the floating logs, which sometimes were just under the surface of the water. Immense quantities of caña baraba were to be seen on the banks, and great numbers of delicately-tinted violet flowers which enlivened the landscape. The caña had light violet-coloured panaches, which were much used by the Indians in the manufacture of their arrows. The banks were of alluvial formation. Islets of grey sand mixed with volcanic ashes could be seen. The current was strong.

We saw large families of ciancias—beautiful birds with velvety black bodies speckled with white, and fan tails of rich brown colour, feathers of the same colour being also on the outer half of the wings. They possessed slender, most elegant necks, small brown-crested heads, and light yellow chests. Seen at a distance they were not, in shape, unlike pheasants.[432] Twenty or thirty together at a time could be seen playing among the lower branches of the trees along the edge of the river. Then there were small birds of a beautiful metallic blue-black, with very long tails; these latter were innumerable near the water.

A Beautiful Example of Ancient Spanish Wood-carving, Peru.

The rainy season was in full swing. In the morning we generally had white mist rising among the trees, while during the day rain was usually plentiful and rendered travelling somewhat monotonous, as we could not see much. We saw many specimens of the tagua or yarina, a small palm, the leaves of which were used in that region for roofing houses. At last we came to the first rocks I had seen in the river since leaving the Tapajoz River. They were at the double whirlpool of Naittavo. At the island of Errera was a narrow channel only 30 to 40 m. wide, where the current was extremely strong, and just deep enough for our launch, which drew 5 ft. of water. The upstream end of the island was strewn with logs of wood, forming a kind of barrage, the water of the dividing stream being thrown with great force against it. It was here that we got the first sight of high mountains—a great change after the immense stretches of flat land we had encountered all along the Amazon, Solimões and Ucayalli. I saw some beautiful specimens of the idle or sleepy monkey, the preguya, a nocturnal animal with wonderful fur. The small launch was swung about with great force from one side to the other by the strong current and whirlpools. We saw a number of Cashibos (Carapaches and Callisecas) on the right bank of the river. They are said to be cannibals, but personally I rather doubt it. If they[433] have occasionally eaten a missionary or two, I believe that it must have been rather as a religious superstition than because of the actual craving for human flesh. Also it is possible that, as is the case with many African tribes, the Cashibos may believe that eating an enemy gives strength and courage, and may have indulged in this practice purely on that account. So that I do not think that it is fair to call those Indians cannibals in the true sense of the word, any more than it would be fair to call a teetotaller a drunkard because he took a drink or two of brandy for medicinal purposes.

The word "Cashibo" in the Pana language means vampire. Those Indians are great fighters, and are in a constant state of hostility with all their neighbours. They are good hunters and fishermen. Their weapons are well made, and consist of bow and arrows, spears and war-clubs. The Callisecas and Carapaches are very light in colour, with a yellowish skin, not darker than that of the average Spaniard. They are fine-looking people, fairly hairy on the face and body. The men grow long beards. Men and women generally go about naked, but some of the Indians near the river have adopted long shawls in which they wrap themselves. After marriage the women wear a loin-cloth, but nothing at all before marriage. The girls when young are attractive, with luminous, expressive, dark brown eyes. These Cashibos are supposed to be the "white race" of the Amazon. They are nevertheless not white at all, but belong to a yellow race, although they are, as I have said, of a light yellow colour. Many yellow races have come under my[434] observation in the islands of the Pacific Ocean, who were just as light as the Cashibos, such as the Bilans and Manobos, and some who were even whiter than they are, such as the Mansakas of the Mindanao Island. The Cashibos are wild people, and the settlers in the neighbourhood are much afraid of them.

On January 13th, when we were three days out from Masisea, we were travelling between high rocky hills with almost vertical sides. Their section showed in the lower portion narrow bands of violet-coloured rock and white light stone in a horizontal stratum. Above that had accumulated a deep layer from 30 to 100 ft. thick of red earth.

We went across a dangerous whirlpool. The launch hardly had enough strength to pull through at full speed. The water all around us formed great circles with deep central hollows, and, as we went through, rose before us like a wall. It had quite an impressive effect. That particular whirlpool was called Sheboya. Soon afterwards we obtained a beautiful view of the high range—the Sira mountains.

Wonderful Example of Old Spanish Wood-Carving, Peru.

On January 14th we went over the whirlpool of Marques, a most picturesque sight. On the banks of the river was plenty of rubber, hevea, but not of quite such good quality as that found in Brazil. Some of the trees exuded white and some yellow latex, the coloration being probably due to the quality of the soil. There were few habitations along the banks of the Pachitea River. There were tribes of the Campas (or Antis) and Cashibos Indians, the members[435] of both races having marked Malay characteristics. Occasionally one met extraordinary people in those out-of-the-way regions. When we halted for wood, which we used instead of coal for our engine, a man some six feet four inches in height came on board—quite an extraordinary-looking person. To my amazement, when I spoke to him, he turned out to be a man of refined taste and quite highly educated. He was a Hungarian count and an officer in the Austrian army, who, having got into trouble in his own country, had gone to settle there.

From a place called Cahaubanas, at the confluence of the river Pichis with the Pachitea, it was possible to cross over on foot to the Mayro, a stream which flowed into the Palcazu, and in two more days' walking (about 75 kil.), the German colony of Potzuzu could be reached at the meeting-place of the Potzuzu River with the Uancabamba. From the German colony 158 kil. more would bring you to Uanuco, and 138 kil. farther on was Serra de Pasco, whence the railway went to Lima.

Another trail from Cahaubanas proceeded to Chuchura, about 50 kil. higher up the Mayro river. From there it was possible to cross the Yanachag Mountains and reach the settlement of Uancabamba. The distance from Cahaubanas to Chuchura was one and a half day's walking—some 40 kil. of heavy climbing, that from Chuchura to Uancabamba two days' marching. From Uancabamba one was able to get mules in order to go over the high pass of Culebra Marca and reach Serra de Pasco.

It was possible by that trail to reach Lima in a[436] few days on foot. It was out of the question for me to attempt such a journey, the attack of beri-beri in my right leg making it almost impossible for me to stand up. I decided to go as far up the stream as I could on the launch and by canoe.

At Cahaubanas were a monastery and a great many Indians. After halting for the night at that place we continued our journey up the Pachitea with a strange medley of passengers on board. We had the Hungarian count, an Italian farmer, who was a remarkable musician and played the accordion beautifully; we had some Peruvians, a Spanish emigrant, a small Indian boy aged ten who acted as steward, and a young fellow of German origin.

The cook on the launch was a lunatic, who was under the impression that he was the Saviour. It was too pathetic, and occasionally quite alarming, to see the poor man leaving the cooking stove whenever we passed any Indians on the banks, when he raised his arms up in the air and, stretching them forward, gave his benediction to the people he saw, instead of looking after the boiling rice. His benedictions cost him frequent kicks and shakings by the neck on the part of the captain of the launch. He was absorbed in fervent praying during the night. He seldom condescended to speak to any of us on board, as he said that he was not living on this earth, but would come back some day to bring peace and happiness to the whole world. Words of that kind were uttered whilst he was holding a saucepan in one hand and a ladle in the other. It was pathetic.

On the way to Cuzco.

Railway bridges partly carried away by swollen river.

In pouring rain we left again on January 16th[437] between the high rocky banks of the river, well padded with earth and with dense vegetation. Extensive beaches of grey sand and coarse gravel were passed, until we arrived at Port Bermudez, situated at the confluence of the Pichis with the Chibbis, a tributary on the left bank. Here we found the last of the chain of wireless stations which had three iron towers. From that place a telephone and telegraph wire have been installed right over the Andes and down to Lima.

The passage on the Government launch from Masisea to Bermudez cost £7 10s. I heard there that, thanks to the arrangements which had been made by the Prefect of the Loreto Province, the number of mules I required in order to cross the Andes was duly waiting for me at the foot of that great chain of mountains.

I therefore lost no time, and on January 17th, having left the launch Esploradora, proceeded in a canoe with all my baggage intending to navigate as far as possible the river Pichis, a tributary of the Pachitea, formed by the united Nazaratec and Asupizu rivers.

The landscape was getting very beautiful, the Sungaro Paro Mountains rising to a great height on the south-west. Immense lubuna trees, not unlike pines in shape, were the largest trees in that region—from 5 to 6 ft. in diameter. The current was so strong that we were unable to reach the spot where the mules were awaiting me, and I had to spend the night on a gravel beach.

The next morning, however, January 18th, after[438] passing two small rapids, where my men had to go into the water in order to pull the canoe through, I arrived at Yessup, where my mules were awaiting me, and where there was a tambo or rest-house, kept beautifully clean.

Great Sand Dunes along the Peruvian Corporation Railway to Cuzco.

Inca Bath or Fountain.

The distance by water from Iquitos to Masisea was 980 kil.; from Masisea to Puerto Bermudez 520 kil.; from Puerto Bermudez to Yessup 40 kil.

[439]

## CHAPTER XXVI

Across the Andes—The End of the Trans-continental Journey

I was fortunate in obtaining some excellent Peruvian muleteers to accompany me on the expedition over the Andes. The trip might have been a rough one for the ordinary traveller, but for me it was a real holiday excursion, after the horrible time I had experienced in Brazil. This notwithstanding the disagreeable weather I encountered during the fourteen days' rough riding which I employed in reaching the Pacific Ocean.

I started at once with my pack animals on the trail which has been cut by the Peruvian Government over the mountains. Rain came down in torrents. Most of the country was swampy, the mules sinking chest-deep in mud. The travelling was not exactly what you would call pleasant. Your legs dangled all the time in water and slush. As that trail was used by caravans, the mules had cut regular transverse grooves in the ground all along, in which successively they all placed their hoofs. Each groove was filled with slushy water, and was separated from the next by a mud wall from one to three feet high. The mules were constantly stumbling and falling. After you had travelled a short distance you were in a filthy condition, the torrential rain washing down the splashes of mud and spreading them all over you.

[440] After leaving Yessup we crossed first the Sinchhuaqui river, then the Aguachini. We began to ascend two kilometres after we had left Yessup, and marched steadily the entire day among gigantic aguaso trees and wonderful ferns of great height, until we reached the Miriatiriami tambo, 27 kil. from Yessup.

On January 19th we followed the River Azupizu along a narrow trail from 300 to 400 ft. above the level of the river, with an almost vertical drop by the side of us. Huge palms and ferns of indescribable beauty were to be seen all along, while waterfalls and streamlets constantly crossed the trail.

We encountered that day deep mud all the way, the mules sinking up to their bellies in the slush. The trail along the mountain side was cut in the soft earth, and actually formed a deep groove only about two feet wide, the mud and slush being held by the solid transverse barriers which succeeded one another at short intervals.

Cuzco.

Llamas in foreground.

At Piriatingalini and Puchalini we found light cable suspension bridges, very shaky, which swung to and fro as you rode over them. Most of them were not more than four feet wide and had no parapet at all. I cannot say that I felt particularly happy when my mule—sure-footed, I grant—took me across, the bridge swinging, quivering, and squeaking with our weight on it, especially when we were in the middle. The rivers were extremely picturesque, with high mountains on either side, among which they wound their way in a snake-like fashion over a rocky bed, forming a series of cascades. We went that day[441] 25 kil., and arrived at the tambo of Azupizu, which was in charge of a deserter from the French navy. He was an extraordinary character. He had forgotten French, and had neither learnt Spanish nor the local language of the Campas Indians.

A tribe of those Indians was to be found near there—very handsome people, the men solidly built and muscular, with intelligent but brutal faces, with the yellowish-brown skin and slanting eyes of the Malay races. The eyes showed a great discoloration in the upper part of the iris. They possessed straight hair, slightly inclined to curl at the end. The nose was flattened at the root. They wore a few ornaments of feathers on the head. Their clothing consisted of a loose gown not unlike a Roman toga. The women were good-looking when very young.

The Campas claimed to be the direct descendants of the Incas. There is no doubt that the Campas were practically the same tribe as the Antis, once a most powerful tribe which inhabited an extensive territory to the north and east of Cuzco. In fact, the eastern portion of the Inca country was once called Anti-Suya. The Campas, or Antis, were formerly ferocious. They are now quite tame, but still retain their cruel countenances, resembling closely those of Polynesians and Malays.

We left that place on January 20th in drenching rain. The river was much swollen, and formed a whirlpool of great magnitude just over some bad rapids. We crossed from mountain-side to mountain-side, some 400 ft. above the stream, in a sling car running along a wire rope. The car consisted of two[442] planks suspended on four pieces of telegraph wire. As the sling had been badly constructed it did not run smoothly along the cable. I had an unpleasant experience—everybody had who used that conveyance—as I was going across from one side to the other of the stream, a distance of some 200 metres or more. The ropes which were used for pulling the car along got badly entangled when I had reached the middle of the passage. The Indians and the Frenchman pulled with violent jerks in order to disentangle them, and caused the car to swing and bump to such an extent that it was all I could do to hold on and not be flung out of it. Having been swung to and fro for the best part of an hour on that primitive arrangement, I was able to proceed on the other side of the stream. Fortunately we had taken the precaution of making the animals cross over the river the previous evening, before it was in flood, or else we should have been held up there for several days. Leaving the Azupizu river, we followed the river Kintoliani, which joined the Azupizu and formed with it a most formidable stream.

A Famous Inca Wall, Cuzco.

The various rocks fit so perfectly that no mortar was used to keep them in place.

The trail was at a great height, some 600 ft. above the water. In two or three places where it had been cut into the rock it was most dangerous, as the rocks were slippery with the wet, so that the mules had great difficulty in keeping their feet. The vegetation was wonderful, with trees of enormous height and beautiful giant palms. Waterfalls over rocky walls were plentiful, while the effects of clouds were marvellous among those mountains—although my enthusiasm was damped a good deal that day by the[443] torrential rain, which came down in bucketfuls upon us, and filtered through even my heavy waterproof coat.

The zigzag ascent was extremely heavy, the first part being over rocky ground, while the rest of that day's journey was along a swampy trail on which the mules stumbled and fell many times. One of my men had a narrow escape from being precipitated down the chasm. So bad, indeed, was the trail that we only went 15 kil., halting at the tambo of Pampas S. Nicolas.

On January 21st we made a long and tedious march, rising all the time among slippery rocks along precipices, or sinking in swampy mud on the narrow trail. Picturesque waterfalls of great height were visible in volcanic vents, some square, others crescent-shaped, on the face of the mountain. The torrents, swollen by the heavy rains, were difficult to cross, my mules on several occasions being nearly swept away by the foaming current. We sank in deep red slush and in deep holes filled with water, but continued all the time to ascend a gentle but continuous incline. We travelled that day from six o'clock in the morning until six o'clock in the evening, rain pouring down upon us all the time. We were simply smothered in mud from head to foot.

We found a large tambo at Camp 93, with a telephone and telegraph station. At those tambos it was always possible to obtain rice, chickens and eggs at reasonable prices, fixed by the Government. In many of the tambos were also rough wooden bedsteads, with a more or less comfortable mattress. I generally[444] preferred to use my own camp-bed. As there were never more than one or two rooms in the tambo, you had to sleep in the same room with other people, unless you preferred to sleep outside, as I did.

For the privilege of sleeping at any tambo, in or out of doors, one paid the small sum of one shilling. A dinner or lunch seldom cost more than two shillings, and breakfast eightpence to one shilling. The food for the animals could be reckoned at one shilling for each mule, the price being higher at the Yessup end of the journey and getting gradually lower as one got nearer the capital.

Of course one could not call travelling over the Andes in any way luxurious. The tablecloths at the tambos showed all round the table the marks of the dirty lips of previous travellers, and plentiful stains of soup, coffee and tea. The illumination consisted usually of a candle placed in the mouth of a bottle, which was used as a candlestick.

I saw more Campas Indians there. They were singing songs strongly resembling Malay melodies, to the accompaniment of Spanish guitars. Other songs influenced by Spanish airs, but still delivered in a typically Malay fashion, were also given that evening. They interested me greatly.

Inca Three-Walled Fortress of Sacsayhuaman, Cuzco.

On January 22nd we left Camp 93. I was struck everywhere at those tambos by the great honesty of the Peruvians. I was often touched by the extreme kindness of the people and their considerate manner—although perhaps it was more particularly striking to me after my experience of the brutal behaviour of the lower-class Brazilians. The gentle way of[445] speaking, the more harmonious language—Spanish instead of Portuguese—and the charming civility of the people, made travelling, even under those unpleasant circumstances, quite agreeable.

It was cold, especially at night. Nearly all my instruments had been badly damaged in our many accidents in Brazil, and I was unable to replace them either in Pará or Manaos. Owing, therefore, to the lack of self-registering thermometers, I could not keep an accurate daily record of the maximum and minimum temperatures. After leaving Camp 93, we went over a really fearful trail, my mules being all the time chest-deep in mud. It was extremely hard work for the animals to get along. As is well known to any traveller, all animals of a caravan when on a narrow path step in the footprints of their predecessors, so that on that trail they had sunk a long series of deep holes in the soft clay, which were constantly being filled by water sliding from the mountain-side. In that particular part the mud had highly caustic qualities, which burnt the skin and caused irritation each time you were splashed. The muleteers who were walking had their feet badly burnt by it, one man suffering agony from his blistered feet.

Magnificent mountain scenery covered with luxuriant forest surrounded us as the trail wound its way along the high point on the top of the mountain range. We went only 21 kil. that day from Pampas, having occupied seven hours to cover the distance, owing to the difficulties of the march.

In the afternoon we were enveloped in dense fog which lasted the whole night, the cold being quite[446] severe, and the more perceptible because of the humidity in the air. The trail here described a wide detour, which could have easily been avoided had another trail that went direct to New Bermudez been followed at the bottom of the valley. The journey by that lower trail could be accomplished in one day and a half. The elevation by hypsometrical apparatus of this camp (N.71) was 5,663 ft.

On January 23rd we descended rapidly through beautiful forest from Camp 71, where we had halted for the night, to a large tambo called Eneñas, in charge of an Italian. The place was situated in a beautiful valley intersected by a streamlet saturated with lime. It looked exactly like milk, and hurt your gums considerably when you drank it. The excellent mule I was riding had unfortunately hurt one of its legs while we were crossing a swollen torrent, where the mule and myself were nearly swept away in the foaming current. Riding on the lame animal, which was all the time stumbling and falling down on its knees, was unpleasant. In the narrow trail it was not possible to unload another animal and change the saddle, and it was out of the question for me to walk.

The Inca Temple of the Sun, with Spanish Superstructure.

Inca Doorway, Cuzco.

I arrived at the tambo with a ravenous appetite, but unfortunately nobody had telephoned from the previous tambo that I was coming, so that it was impossible to get lunch, and I had to wait two or three hours before I could get anything to eat at all. The men in charge of the various tambos were rather negligent in telephoning and making arrangements with the next tambo, as the kind of travellers they[447] had on that trail was not of the highest type and could not always be relied upon for payment. The people in charge of the tambos were poor devils, half abrutis, to use a most appropriate French expression, by the life they had to lead in that forlorn country.

On January 24th we continued our journey over horrible deep mud-holes, which made the trail extremely dangerous. On that particular day we were travelling over sticky soil, so that when the mules trod in the deep holes they stuck with their hoofs and fell over, immediately struggling wildly to free themselves. One of my men was nearly thrown down a precipice that day, and all of us, as well as all the pack animals, had many unpleasant falls during that march. Swampy places like that were encountered for hundreds of metres at a time. In one place that day we had two kilometres of continuous swampy mud. In the afternoon I had a nasty fall, the mule rolling right on the top of me and nearly breaking my right leg. The animal in falling had sunk its head in the sticky mud, and was struggling madly to release itself. The animals were then marching chest-deep in mud. In my helpless condition I tried to get off when the animal fell, but sank up to my waist and stuck fast with my legs in the mud. When the mule rolled over, it knocked me down on the edge of the precipice, my leg remaining caught under the animal. Had not one of my muleteers been by my side at the moment and rushed to my rescue, I should have fared badly indeed.

We had a slippery descent after Tambo 33, where we had a lunch composed of putrid tinned salmon[448] and "invisible" eggs—the latter dish being a speciality of that place. The tambo man insisted that I had eaten six eggs, whereas I had not even seen them except on the bill. He told me that I was wrong, showing me a napkin on which two yellow streaks were to be seen—though not left there by me, but by the lips of some traveller who had passed perhaps a month before.

We made a long march that day, having left at seven o'clock in the morning, and arriving at our halting-place at four o'clock in the afternoon.

The next day, January 25th, we had a trying march. Several land-slides had taken place, bringing down great patches of forest. Numberless trees had fallen over, making it difficult for the animals to be taken across. In one place all of them had to be unloaded, and they sank so deeply in the slush and soft earth that we had three or four hours' extremely hard work to cover a distance of about 50 m. The animals became so scared that they would not go on at all. The men who pushed and led them along that dangerous passage with a deep precipice on one side were in constant danger.

The rain, which had been torrential during the night, continued during the entire day, swelling the streams and making them most difficult to cross. In one stream my mule and I were swept away altogether. I had water right up to my waist while riding, and the mule showed only its head above the water. We were thrown with great force against some rocks, where, fortunately, my muleteers came to our help and got us out again.

Inca Steps carved in a Dome of Rock, Cuzco.

Fortress noticeable in the distance.

The trail—about half a metre wide—wound its[449] way up to a great height above the foaming river. There were beautiful ferns of immense height, some of which had finely ribbed, gigantic leaves. Graceful yellow flowers, or sometimes beautiful red ones, were to be seen on tall trees with white, clean stems. We passed a coffee plantation, owned by English people, near a charming settlement of whitewashed houses on the opposite side of the river. When we came to cross the Rio Las Palmas—heavily swollen—we were once more nearly swept away in riding across with water up to our chests. The baggage naturally suffered a good deal in those constant immersions. This was, unfortunately, the wrong season for crossing the Andes; but I could not help that, as I was anxious to get through, and could not wait for the fine weather to come.

Farther on we crossed the river Paucartambo near the Pueblo Pardo. We next followed the Rio Chanchamayo, which afterwards became the Rio Perene, along which extensive English farms had been established. We were now getting near to civilization. I felt that my work was entirely finished, as the country hereabouts was well known.

We came to the Colorado river, a tributary of the Chanchamayo, and passed S. Luiz de Shuaro, a charming little village of whitewashed houses. The scenery was beautiful on nearing La Merced. The river basin showed luxuriant grassy slopes and immense sugar plantations.

La Merced was situated on the left bank of the Rio Chanchamayo, formed by the meeting of the Rio Tulumayo and the Rio Tarma, which joined near the[450] village of S. Ramon. It had two modest hotels and various commercial houses. In a way I was sorry to get to a town again, because in those places you had all the trumpery illusion of civilization without any of its real advantages. One met, however, with the greatest civility from everybody, and, indeed, with the greatest honesty. So that travelling in those regions was quite a pleasure.

To my amazement that evening a burly Italian came into the hotel. Who was he?—Garibaldi's grandson, the son of General Canzio and Garibaldi's daughter. He was interested in some mines in the district, and had lived there for some years trying to make a fortune.

What impressed one most in the settlements on the Andes were the great neatness and cleanliness of all the buildings, and the charming manners of all the people one met. Everybody, without exception, saluted you politely as you approached; everybody was anxious to be of assistance or offer you hospitality. There was, nevertheless, nothing of great interest in those high-placed villages.

On January 26th I went on in a drenching rain, having changed my animals at that place for another lot of excellent mules. The hire of animals was somewhat high, but after the prices one had to pay in Brazil, everything seemed, by comparison, dirt-cheap in Peru. I also said good-bye to the Peruvians who had accompanied me so far, and employed Indians to take charge of my animals.

From La Merced there was a trail from one to three metres wide, cut out in the solid rock and skirting[451] all along the foaming river, which flowed in the opposite direction from that in which we were travelling. In several places narrow tunnels had been excavated in the rock, through which the trail proceeded. These tunnels were dangerous when you encountered caravans of pack animals coming through from the opposite direction. The animals often got jammed in the middle of the tunnel, tearing their loads to pieces in their attempts to disentangle themselves. Once I got jammed myself, and came out minus a patch of skin several inches long from my left shin and knee.

Between La Merced and S. Ramon, a distance of some 10 kil., one had to cross the shaky suspension bridges of La Herreria and S. Ramon. The oscillations of those bridges were so great that it was always a marvel to me that the animals and riders were not precipitated into the river below. The planks of the bridges were in many places so rotten that it was not uncommon for the animals to put their legs right through them. Only one animal at a time could go across, as the bridges were not strong enough to support more.

Farther on we arrived at two more bridges—the Puntayacu and the Rio Seco, one a suspension bridge, the other built of masonry. One met hundreds of Indians upon the trail, in costumes resembling those of the Calabrese of Italy. The men wore heavy woollen hand-knitted stockings up to their knees, or else over their trousers, white leggings left open behind as far down as the knee. Round felt hats were worn by the women, who were garbed in bright blue or red petticoats, very full and much pleated, but[452] quite short. Red was the favourite colour for the shawl which they threw round the body and over the shoulders.

When we proceeded the next morning the heat in the low valley was stifling. The scenery continued to be beautiful, with magnificent waterfalls and torrents flowing down at a steep angle among rocks.

I stopped for the night at the charming little hotel of Huacapistana, situated at a lower level than the road in a most picturesque narrow valley, on the right bank of the Tarma River. The distance between La Merced and Huacapistana was about 35 kil.

Between Huacapistana and Tarma the track was excellent. We went through the Carpapata tunnel, 184 m. long—very dark and narrow, and extremely dangerous if you happened to meet pack animals in the middle. The scenery was enchanting and the vegetation wonderful until, 20 kil. farther, I entered, by a magnificent avenue of eucalyptus trees, the most picturesque town of the higher Andes, Tarma. The narrow, neat streets were paved with cobble-stones. All the houses were painted white, and had red-tiled roofs. The streets swarmed with quaintly attired Indians and tidily dressed Peruvians. There were many Italians and Spaniards in Tarma. Two or three hotels existed here—a capital one, actually lighted by electric light, being kept by a most honest Italian. The elevation of Tarma, taken by the hypsometrical apparatus, was 10,034 ft.

The "Round Table" of the Incas.

Entrance to Inca Subterranean Passages.

I left Tarma on January 29th, following a well-cultivated valley, fairly thickly inhabited. We were travelling over a good mule-track, swarming with[453] Indians, donkeys, mules, and horses. The mud houses and land on either side were enclosed by hedges of cacti, or by walls. We were between barren mountains of a brownish colour, against which the quaint, brightly-coloured costumes of the many people on the road were thrown out in vivid contrast. Most of the houses were constructed of large mud bricks, sun-dried. The crops seemed to consist chiefly of Indian corn. As we went farther, among dark brown rocks and limestone, we came to grottoes and rock habitations. At some remote period there must have been a great upheaval in that country—at least, judging by the sedimentary foliated rock, the strata of which were from one to three feet thick, and which had originally been deposited horizontally by water. These accumulations or sediments now stood up at an angle of 45°. We were now in a region where llamas were plentiful—most delightful animals, with their pointed ears pricked up, their luxuriant coats, and stumpy curled tails.

We came to a steep ascent over a high pass, where the cold wind was fierce. On reaching the pass I found myself on a grassy plateau in which were to be seen two circles of stones by the side of each other.

The partition of the waters flowing into the River Mantaro and the River Tarma took place at the point called Ricran, not far from the high pass we had crossed. It was always advisable when taking the journey between Tarma and Oroya to start early in the morning, so as to be on that pass before noon. In the afternoon the wind was intensely cold and[454] frequently accompanied by violent storms of hail and rain.

I arrived in the evening at Oroya, the distance from Tarma being 30 kil. 236 m. The journey between the two places could be accomplished on a good mule in five or six hours. Oroya was an important point for me, as it was there that I saw the first railway since leaving Araguary in Brazil nearly a year before.

Oroya is perhaps one of the highest railway stations in the world, its accurate elevation by boiling-point thermometers being 12,156 ft.

The town, like all termini of railway lines, was not an attractive place. There were two or three hotels, all extremely bad. One began to feel the effects of civilization in the dishonesty of the people.

Early the next morning, thanks to arrangements made by Mr. D. T. Lee, I was allowed to take the journey to Lima in a "gravity car," in the company of the engineer, Mr. Beverley R. Mayer, instead of by the usual train, which ran twice a week. Of course it was only possible to go by "gravity car" from the highest point of the railway, which is not at Oroya, but at the tunnel of Galera, 5,356 m. (17,572 ft.) above the sea-level as measured by the railway surveyors.

Inca Place of Amusement: a Toboggan Slide of Rock.

An Inca Grave, Bolivia.

The scenery was magnificent on that railway. Having gone through the Galera tunnel, Mr. Mayer and I got on the small "gravity car," keeping all the time just in front of the train. It was quite an exciting journey, the incline being so great that we soon acquired a vertiginous speed—in fact, too much, because our brakes would not act any more. With[455] the snow and rain the rails had become so slippery that we went sliding down at the most alarming pace. Nor did I feel particularly happy at having the train only a few hundred metres behind us. Whenever we got to a station, we had to get off quickly and get our car off the rails to give room to the incoming train. The cold was intense.

The geological formation of the Andes in that particular region was remarkable, and more remarkable still was the British engineering triumph of constructing a railway from the sea to so high an elevation. In one or two places there were iron bridges of great height and ingenious construction. You felt a curious sensation as you flew over those bridges on the tiny car, and you saw between the rails the chasm underneath you; nor did you feel extraordinarily comfortable when, hundreds of feet down, down below, at the bottom of one chasm, you saw a railway engine which had leapt the rails and lay upside down in the middle of a foaming torrent.

Naturally, in building a mountain railway of that type, a great many curves and zigzags were necessary, many of those curves taking place inside tunnels. Along the railway rivers have been switched off through tunnels within the mountain, and produced picturesque cascades where they came out again.

The geological surprises were continual. Next to mountains with perfectly horizontal strata you saw other mountains with strata in a vertical position, especially in the limestone formation. Farther down immense superposed terraces were to be noticed upon the mountain side, evidently made by the ancient[456] dwellers of that country for the cultivation of their inhospitable land.

This interested me greatly. I had seen among the Igorrotes or head-hunters of the island of Luzon, in the Philippine Archipelago, that same method of irrigation, by collecting the water from a high point on the mountain side in order to irrigate consecutively the series of terraces. Not only was I struck by the fact of finding so unusual a method of cultivation at two points of the globe so far apart, but I was even more impressed by the wonderful resemblance in type between the local natives and the inhabitants of the northern island of the Philippines. Undoubtedly these people came from the same stock.

Where we stopped at the different stations there was always something interesting to observe—now the hundreds of llamas which had conveyed goods to the railway; at one place the numberless sacks of ore waiting to be taken to the coast; at another the tall active chimneys of the smelters, which suggested industry on a large scale. I took a number of photographs under difficulties on that journey down the Andes.

At 7.30 p.m. on January 30th, 1912, I arrived safely at Lima, a distance of 222 kil. from Oroya. The total distance from Iquitos to Lima over the Andes was 2,079 kil., which distance I had performed in the record time of one month, the time generally occupied by the usual travellers being from fifty to seventy days.

Inca Remains near Cuzco.

From Lima I proceeded early the next morning to Callao, the port for Lima, a few kilometres farther,[457] where at La Punta I touched the Pacific Ocean, thus ending my trans-continental journey from Rio de Janeiro, with its zigzags and deviations, 22,000 kil. in length, or 13,750 miles.

I was already in better health when I reached Lima. The violent changes of climate from the hot valley of the Amazon to the snows of the Andes, and from there to the sea-coast, had had a beneficial effect upon me. The attack of beri-beri from which I had been suffering was gradually passing away, my right foot, by the time I reached Lima, having slowly got back almost to its normal size, although my toes were still atrophied. It is well known that there is no better cure for beri-beri than sea air.

[458]

## CHAPTER XXVII

The Peruvian Corporation Railway—The Land of the Incas—Lake Titicaca—Bolivia—Chile—The Argentine—A Last Narrow Escape—Back in England

Lima is a beautiful city, as everybody knows. Its wonderful churches, its clean streets, its commerce, the great charm of the people—indeed, the Peruvians are the most cultivated and polished people in South America, and the women the most beautiful—make it one of the most attractive cities I visited on that continent.

I was, nevertheless, anxious to return quickly to Europe. I had no strength left. The mental strain on that long journey had been so great that I had lost my memory altogether.

Owing to the great kindness of the British Minister, Mr. C. des Graz, and of Mr. Mockill, the chief of the Peruvian Corporation at Lima, arrangements were made for me to travel in luxurious comfort through the country of the Incas—so that, although terribly exhausted, I decided to take a further journey in the interior of Peru, Bolivia, and Chile.

Where a Stone Fight took place in the Inca Country.

(Notice the innumerable rocks which have been thrown down the hill from the high Inca structure.)

Entrance to Inca Subterranean Passages.

I left Lima five days after my arrival, on February 5th, going by steamer to the port of Mollendo, where I arrived on February 7th. There I met the railway line of the Peruvian Corporation from the sea coast[459] to Arequipa and Cuzco. A magnificent private car had been placed at my disposal by the Peruvian Corporation, in which I was able to make myself comfortable for the several days which the journey lasted. Not only so, but the Peruvian Corporation kindly looked after my welfare in a most thoughtful way during the whole time I travelled on their line, for which I am indeed extremely grateful, as the travelling in that country would have otherwise been less pleasant.

The railroad from Mollendo went along the coast among curious eroded rocks of great interest; then gradually left the sea among sand-dunes and mounds upon the wide beach.

As the railway began to get higher and higher upon the steep gradient the scenery became more and more beautiful. Presently we found ourselves overlooking a wonderful flat valley between two high hill ranges in lovely green patches, cut with geometrical precision, and well cultivated. Giant cacti of the candelabrum type were plentiful. Farther on we got upon an elevated plateau with a white surface of pumice-stone, followed by red volcanic sand—an immense stretch of country surrounded by low hills of grey tufa and red volcanic rock.

Beyond that we came to a most interesting region of sand-dunes of extraordinary shapes, where the under soil was of a brilliant red, while the sand accumulations were of a grey colour. Some of the dunes were crescent-shaped. They stood usually in sets or rows extending from north-west to south-east. Then there were high mounds, also of sand, and[460] dunes of all kinds, some with a double crescent, or with the inside of the crescent much indented, others with multiple concave curves. The concavity of all those dunes was on the north-east side.

I had seen a similar formation of dunes in the Salt Desert of Persia; also in the south-western desert of Afghanistan and in the northern desert of Beluchistan; but I do not remember ever having seen such a perfect formation of dunes as that to be seen in this part of Peru.

Beyond that sandy zone we had before us a red plateau with fluted sides. Great mounds of blackened volcanic sand were quite frequent, the railway winding its way around immense basins formed by depressions in the land. Then we entered a beautiful green narrow valley along a streamlet intersecting the plateau.

From Mollendo the railway gradually rose to an elevation of 2,301 m. (7,549 ft.) at Arequipa, where I remained for the night.

The Great Inca Ruins of Viraccocha, in Tinta (Cuzco).

Arequipa was an interesting city with its picturesque arcades, its magnificent church of Spanish architecture with marvellous ancient wood carvings, and its prettily-laid-out gardens. I visited the astronomical observatory of Harvard College, a few miles from the town, where excellent work is being done in star photography from that eminently suitable spot for the study of the sky. The observatory was situated at an elevation of 8,060 ft. It worked in conjunction with the Harvard observatory in North America. By having thus one station north and another south of the equator, the observations made by that institution included the stars in all parts of the sky from the North to the[461] South Pole. A 24-inch Bruce photographic telescope, a 13-inch Boyden telescope, an 8-inch Bache telescope, and a 4-inch meridian photometer were the principal instruments used at the Arequipa station.

I left Arequipa on the morning of February 9th, going through country of volcanic tufa and red sand, with immense furrows quite devoid of vegetation. Occasionally we came upon great masses of boulders cast by some volcanic force upon the surface of tufa and sand. Then the railway gracefully climbed in great curves over a plateau nearly 14,000 ft. high, where tufts of grass could be seen, giving a greenish appearance to the landscape.

We travelled along that great table-land, occasionally seeing a herd of llamas stampede away at the approach of the train, now and then observing circular stone walls erected by shepherds as shelters. A gable-roofed hut was occasionally seen. Picturesque natives in their ponchos and red or yellow scarves gazed, astonished, at the train throbbing along slowly upon the steep gradient of that elevated barren country. The cold seemed intense after the tropical heat of Lima. It was snowing hard. In the daytime I generally travelled seated in front of the engine, in order to have a better view of the landscape. In the train everybody suffered from soroche or mountain-sickness, which attacked most people when brought up quickly by the railway from the sea to such high elevations. I was driven away from the front of the engine by the cold rain and sleet beating with great force into my face, and obscuring the landscape to such an extent that I could see nothing at all.

[462] When it cleared up we were travelling in a region of marshes and pools in the lowest point of depressions, then along a magnificent lake with green and brown fantastically-shaped mountains and hills in the foreground, and a high snowy range in the background. The effects of light when the storm was raging over the lake, with its conical and semi-spherical islands dotting the water, were intensely picturesque.

After that the plateau became less interesting. We descended gradually some 400 m. (1,312 ft.) to the junction of Juliaca, 3,825 m. (12,550 ft.) above the sea level.

At that place the luxurious car which had taken me there had to be switched off from the Puno Line to the Cuzco Line.

I had dinner in the hotel, and again was impressed by the great honesty of the Peruvian people in the interior, and their considerate manners. It was somewhat curious to see the Indian waiter—most clumsy, dressed up in uncomfortable and ill-fitting European clothes—waiting on a medley of strange passengers, such as red-faced Spanish priests, tidy, smooth, oily-haired Peruvians, and talkative commercial travellers. But all—whether fat or lean, rich or poor, Indian or Peruvian—were the essence of politeness and thoughtfulness.

Being able to sleep in the luxurious car, where I had two good bedrooms, my own kitchen, and a sitting-room, I was indeed extremely comfortable.

I left again on February 10th over a great flat grassy tableland, with hills terraced up for cultivation. We passed an old church with a wonderful dome, and behind it snow-capped blue mountains.

[463] The women wore peculiar hats with flapping edges in order to protect their faces from the wind. A black cloth was generally worn over the women's heads under the hat, while over their shoulders hung dark green or purple ponchos.

The Indians of that region showed remarkably strong Malay features.

The train steamed through the wide grassy valley, once crossing a fairly large stream. High snowy peaks loomed against the sky on our right, while we were travelling all the time at elevations varying from 3,531 m. (11,584 ft.) at Sicuani to 4,313 m. (14,150 ft.) at La Raya. The cold seemed intense. I got quite frozen sitting on the engine.

Quantities of llamas and sheep grazing were now to be seen on the land, foot-passengers and horsemen crossing the valley in all directions. At the stations large crowds of picturesque women squatted down selling pottery and fruit.

The farther we got into the interior the more picturesque the hats became. The women there wore hats with rectangular gold-braided brims, and with white, red or blue curtains at the sides. The men had pointed woollen caps with ear-flaps. The women were garbed in ample pleated skirts. Curiously enough, while the head and body were so well protected, most of them had bare legs and feet, the skirts reaching only just below the knee.

Near villages one saw neat patches of land turned, with trouble, into vegetable gardens. Stone enclosures were used by the natives as shelters for the animals during storms and to pen them up[464] at night. The people themselves lived in stone huts.

The country reminded me forcibly of Tibet, and so, in a way, did the people—short and stumpy and smothered in clothes. I frequently noticed cairns of stones like the obos typical of Tibet and of the Himahlyas. There, too, as in Tibet, it seemed the fashion for passers-by to place a white stone on those cairns in order to bring good luck.

The men were curiously garbed in short, wide white woollen trouserettes, reaching just below the knees and split behind just over the calf. Under those they wore another pair of trousers, slightly longer. Their coats were short and tight, resembling Eton jackets. They wore wide and much embroidered belts, red and blue being their favourite colours.

An accident had happened to a bridge. It had collapsed, so that the trains could not proceed. Thanks to the great thoughtfulness of Mr. Mockill and his inspector of the line, Mr. Blaisdell, another private car, equally comfortable, had been sent down from Cuzco to the bridge. My baggage was transferred on men's backs to the opposite side of the stream. With the delay of only an hour or so I was able to proceed on another train to Cuzco, where I arrived that same evening.

Inca Pottery, Weapons and Ornaments of Gold and Copper.

The city of Cuzco is situated at an elevation of 11,062 ft. above the sea level. In its vicinity the most important remains of Inca civilization have been found. The city itself was most interesting. Its handsome Spanish cathedral had a façade of beautifully designed columns and a fine central doorway.[465] The great bell in one of the towers contained a large quantity of gold in the bronze, giving wonderful resonance to its vibrating notes. A solid silver altar of great height was to be admired in the interior of the cathedral, while the chancel was of marvellously carved wood. So was a supplementary altar which had been stored away behind the silver one.

The principal square of Cuzco had recently been paved with cement, on which none of the natives could be induced to walk, as they were afraid of slipping, accustomed as they were to the roughest cobble-stone paving of their streets. Only the gentry of the city could be seen treading with great care on the polished pavement, and were looked upon with much admiration by the lower natives, who stared aghast from the porticoes around the square. In the centre of the square was a cheap terra-cotta statue of the Indian hero Atahualpa surmounting a fountain painted of a ghastly green. The gardens were nicely laid out with pretty lawns. Another beautiful church rose in the plaza, the doorway of which was also handsome, but not comparable in beauty with that of the cathedral. The stone carvings of its façade were nevertheless remarkable. There were arcades on three sides of the plaza, the houses being generally only one storey high above them. The buildings were painted light blue, pink, green, or bright yellow, the columns of beautifully cut stone being also covered with hideous paint to match.

Thanks to the kindness of the President of the Republic, Mr. B. B. Legujia, a telegram had been sent asking the Prefect of Cuzco to give me every possible[466] assistance in visiting the Inca ruins in the neighbourhood. The Prefect, Mr. J. J. V. Cuñer, kindly placed at my disposal three excellent horses and an orderly.

It is seldom one can visit a place where the people have more primitive habits than in the city of Cuzco. The streets, so wonderfully picturesque, were not fit to walk upon. The people threw into them all that can be thrown out of the houses, which possess no sanitary arrangements of any kind. Much of the pleasure of looking at the magnificent Inca walls—constructed of great blocks of stone so well fitted that no cement was necessary to hold them together—was really lost through being absolutely stifled by the suffocating odour which was everywhere prevalent in Cuzco.

The photographs that are reproduced in the illustrations of this book will give an idea of the grandeur of the Inca works better than any description. As I intend to produce at a later date a special work on that country, I am unable here to go fully into the history of the marvellous civilization of that race.

A photograph will be seen in one of the illustrations showing the immensity of the three-walled fortress of Sacsayhuaman. Another photograph will show with what accuracy the Incas could carve stone—which, mind you, in those days must have been much softer than it is now, and not unlike the sandstone that is used in England for building purposes.

Many curious subterranean passages were to be found on the mountains near Cuzco, the entrances to which were among picturesque rocks. The Incas[467] seemed to have a regular mania for carving steps and angular channels in rocks. Not far from the fortress could be found the place of recreation of the Incas—the Rodadeiro—over which the Incas tobogganed, perhaps sitting on hides. Thousands and thousands of people must have gone in for the sport, as the solid rock was deeply grooved by the friction of the persons who have slid on it.

The remains of ancient altars for the worship of the sun and an Inca throne, where the king of the Incas must have sat while battles were taking place, were indeed most interesting to examine.

More interesting than any other to me was the particular spot on the mountain side where a kind of throne existed carved out of a huge block of rock, and where a battle of the Incas against their enemies could be reconstructed. Mounds of ammunition, consisting of round stones as big as a lawn-tennis ball, had been accumulated above and near the throne. Just below that high spot I found scattered upon the mountain side quantities of ammunition which had evidently been thrown by the Incas at the attacking foes.

Farther on was the "round table" where the Incas had their feasts—a huge circular table of rock situated near a conical boulder of immense size.

Interesting fountains with carved figure-heads; an Inca bath of graceful lines; and, some kilometres beyond Cuzco, the marvellous ruins of Viraccocha at Tinta, where gigantic walls of a palace were to be seen standing, and ruins of other fortresses filled one with amazement.

On the mountain side near the town were the[468] strange gateways of Choquechaca, which in their lines resembled ancient Egyptian buildings. Not far off were the blocks of rock to which the Incas fastened their prisoners by their legs, arms and heads, and exposed them to the ridicule of the populace.

Many were the wonderful things which had been found in digging near Cuzco; but most interesting of all to me were the deformed crania—some flattened to almost an incredible extent on the top, others elongated backward to an amazing degree, others still with the central part of the skull deeply depressed, so as to form two globular swellings at the sides. Others, again, had been squeezed so as to form an angular ridge longitudinally on the summit. One skull particularly interested me, which had a pronounced elongation backward, and a dent just above the forehead which must have been caused by tying the cranium while young and still in a soft condition. Most of the skulls were of gigantic size when compared with those of modern times. The lower part was under-developed. Many of them possessed magnificent teeth.

Several of the skulls had been trephined, evidently while the person was still alive, some of the perforations in the brain-case being circular in shape, others quadrangular—most of the trephinations having been made in the forehead, others on the top of the skull. I saw one skull with as many as eleven apertures thus made. The operation had evidently been performed by a very able surgeon, for the little cap of bone removed fitted beautifully into the opening that had been made.

Inca Towers of Sillistayni, Puño (Lake Titicaca).

An Inca Statue, Bolivia.

The Incas were great architects. They had an[469] absolute craving for carving rock. They made models of their fortresses and palaces in blocks of hard stone, some of these being of remarkable perfection in their detail.

The pottery, red earthen vessels with geometrical designs upon them, was most interesting, especially the large jars which must have been used for fermenting wine. Those jars of a typical shape must have rested on a pedestal of wood, as they ended in a point at the bottom, which prevented their standing up on a flat surface. Two handles were attached to the lower part of those jars, and also to the great bottles in which they kept wine.

The Incas used tumblers, enamelled in red and green, and of most graceful shape.

They were fond of ornamenting their bottles and vessels with representations of human heads, reproduced with considerable artistic fidelity. Other bottles represented strange gnawing faces, with expanded eyes and a fierce moustache.

Judging from the representations of figures on their jars, the people in those days wore their hair in little plaits round the head. Heads of llamas sculptured in stone or else modelled in earthenware were used as vessels.

The Incas made serviceable mortars for grinding grain, of polished hard rock, mostly of a circular shape, seldom more than two feet in diameter.

The matrimonial stone was interesting enough. It was a double vessel carved out of a solid stone, a perforation being made in the partition between the two vessels. It seems, when marriages were per[470]formed, that the Incas placed a red liquid in one vessel and some water in the other, the perforation in the central partition being stopped up until the ceremony took place, when the liquids were allowed to mingle in emblem of the union of the two lives. Curious, too, was the pipe-like arrangement, called the kenko, ornamented with a carved jaguar head, also used at their marriage ceremonies.

Lake Titicaca.

Guaqui, the Port for La Paz on Lake Titicaca.

Their stone axes and other implements were of extraordinary interest—their rectangularly-shaped stone knives, the star- and cross-shaped heads for their war clubs, as well as the star-shaped weights which they used for offensive purposes, attached, perhaps, to a sling. Many were the weapons of offence made of stone which have been found near Cuzco, some of which were used by holding in the hand, others attached to sticks.

The Incas were fairly good sculptors, not only in stone but also in moulding human figures and animals in silver and gold. Llamas, deer, long-nosed human-faced idols were represented by them with fidelity of detail, although perhaps not so much accuracy in the general proportions. At a later date the Incas used metal implements, such as small rakes and chisels for smoothing rock. They made hair-pins and ear-rings, chiefly of a mixture of gold, silver, lead and copper.

I saw at Cuzco a stone arrangement which was used by the Incas for washing and milling gold. Many ornaments of silex, agate and emerald, and also of coral, which had evidently been brought there from the coast, have also been found near Cuzco.

[471] The spoons and knives which the Incas used were generally made of gold, with representations of heads attached to them. The average length of these articles was from two to four inches.

I left the city on Friday, February 16th, going back the way I had come as far as the junction of Juliaca.

The Cuzco railway, to my mind, crosses the most beautiful and most interesting scenery of any railway I have ever seen. It is a pity that more English people do not travel by it. The great elevation makes people suffer from mountain-sickness, and that perhaps deters many travellers from attempting the journey. The railway has to contend with great natural difficulties—land-slides, which often stop traffic for days at a time, being frequent.

From Cuzco I went direct to Lake Titicaca, where more Inca ruins, such as the cylindrical towers of Sillistayni, existed at Puno. Lake Titicaca is a heavenly sheet of water, situated at an elevation by hypsometrical apparatus of 12,202 ft. With its magnificent background of snowy peaks, the lake looked indeed too impressive for words, as I steamed across it in the excellent steamer of the Peruvian Corporation.

Early in the morning of February 17th, having travelled the entire night in order to cross the lake from north to south, we arrived at Guaqui, the port for La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. Although I travelled in the most luxurious comfort, owing to the kindness of the Peruvian Corporation, the journey by rail and the going about examining the ruins at Cuzco had tired me considerably. My brain was so exhausted that it would really take in no more.

[472] Worse luck, when I reached La Paz it was during carnival time, when it was impossible to go out of the hotel without being smothered in cornflour or chalk, and sprinkled with aniline dyed water. Even bottles of ink were emptied on one's head from the windows. So that, although I crossed Bolivia from one end to the other in its longest part, I was unable to do any further work. I tried to get down to the coast as quickly as possible in order to return home.

La Paz was a beautiful city, extremely neat, with bright red-tiled roofs and white buildings. It was situated in a deep hollow surrounded by a great barrier of mountains. So deep and sudden was the hollow that within a few metres of its upper edge one would never suppose a town to be at hand. Bolivia is a go-ahead country in which English people are greatly interested. We have in our Minister there, Mr. Gosling, a very able representative of British interests.

Bolivians have shown great enterprise in building railways in all directions in order properly to develop their enormously wealthy country. Many important lines are in construction; others are projected—of which, perhaps, the most interesting will be the one from Santa Cruz to Corumba on the Brazilian boundary.

The day will come when the port of Arica on the Pacific Ocean will be joined to Oruro, on the Antofagasta line, the well-known junction in Bolivia, and eventually to Santa Cruz. The present plan is to build a line from the already existing railway at Cochabamba to Porto Velarde on the Rio Grande (Rio Mamore), then to Santa Cruz. The Brazilians[473] on their side will eventually connect São Paulo with Cuyaba and Corumba. It will then be possible to travel by rail right across the South American continent in its richest part.

There is also a project of connecting Santa Cruz with Embarcacion and Campo Santo, in the Argentine Republic, and eventually with the Trans-Andine Railway.

Other smaller lines projected are those between Potosí and Sucre, and one from the Chilian boundary at La Quiada to Tarija. That system of railways will greatly develop the entire southern portion of Bolivia. A small railway is also proposed in the most northern part of the Republic, between Riberalta on the River Madre de Dios and Guajara Merim on the Madeira-Mamore railway, a district of immense wealth for the production of rubber.

The exact elevation of La Paz by hypsometrical apparatus was 12,129 ft.

I left La Paz on February 21st, and travelled through flat, alluvial, uninteresting country—only a huge flock of llamas or vicuñas enlivening the landscape here and there, or a group of Indians in their picturesque costumes. The women, with their green, violet or red shawls and much-pleated short skirts, generally blue, afforded particularly gay patches of colour.

I saw a beautiful effect of mirage near the lake in the vicinity of Oruro, as I was on the railway to Antofagasta. We were going through flat country most of the time. It had all the appearance of having once been a lake bottom. Perhaps that great Titicaca Lake formerly extended as far south as Lake[474] Poopo, which is connected with Lake Titicaca by the River Desaguadero. In fact, if I am not far wrong, the two lakes formed part, in days gone by, of one single immense lake. The mountains on our right as we went southwards towards Oruro showed evidence that the level of the then united lakes must have reached, in days gone by, some 150 ft. higher than the plain on which we were travelling. The low undulations on our left had evidently been formed under water in the lake bottom.

The junction of Oruro, from which the Cochabamba railway branches, was quite a large place, of 8,000 inhabitants, but with no particularly striking buildings. Tin and silver mining was carried on in the surrounding mountains.

From Oruro I continued the journey to Antofagasta via Uyuni. Immense deposits of borax were to be seen all along the line from the station of Ulaca; then we came to a most beautiful sight—the volcano of Ollagüe, 12,123 ft. above the sea level. It looked like a giant dome, snow-capped, and smoking on its southern side. Its slopes were fairly regular, and of most brilliant colouring, red and blue. Near the volcano were mounds of mud and shattered rock. Ollagüe stood on the boundary between Bolivia and Chile.

On the Andes.

After passing San Martin, the first station on the Chilian side, the railway skirted the bed of an ancient lake, an immense circular flat stretch with deposits of sand and borax, in which could be seen occasional pools of stagnant water. On the west side stood a high three-peaked mountain covered with snow, while[475] at the southern end of that plain was a charming lakelet. We had no sooner left this beautiful view than we had before us to the south-west an immense conical mountain, flat-topped. It looked just like the well-known Fujiyama of Japan, only more regular in its sloping lines.

We passed the works of a Borax Company, which were between the stations of Sebollar and Ascotan. There was to be seen another immense lake of borax, some 40 kil. (24 miles) long.

I arrived that evening at Antofagasta, and was fortunate enough to get on board one of the Pacific Mail Line steamers the next morning on my way to Valparaiso. We were now in the height of civilization again—very hot, very uncomfortable, very ambitious, very dirty, the hotels abominable. Had it not been for the kindness of friends I should have fared badly indeed in Valparaiso, for the place was invaded by a swarm of American tourists, who had just landed from an excursion steamer and rendered the place unbearable.

From Valparaiso, as soon as it was possible to obtain accommodation, I travelled across the Andes and as far as Buenos Aires by the Trans-Andine railway. The scenery on this line was most disappointing to any one who has seen the Andes in their real grandeur farther north; but for the average traveller the journey may prove interesting enough, although hot, dull, dusty, and not particularly comfortable.

While I was travelling on the railway between Mendoza and Buenos Aires there was a serious strike[476] of railway employés. The railway had been attacked at many different points. Amateur engineers and attendants ran the trains. We were only two hours from Buenos Aires. The heat and dust were intense as we crossed the great pampas. The shaking of the train had tired me to such an extent that I placed a pillow on the ledge of the open window, and was fast asleep with my head half outside the carriage, when I woke up startled by the sound of an explosion. I found myself covered with quantities of débris of rock. A huge stone, as big as a man's head or bigger, had been thrown with great force at the passing train by the strikers, and had hit the side of my window only about three inches above my head, smashing the woodwork and tearing off the metal frame of the window. Had it struck a little lower it would have certainly ended my journey for good.

Llamas in Bolivia.

Borax Deposits, Bolivia.

As it was I arrived in Buenos Aires safely. A few days later I was on my way to Rio de Janeiro, by the excellent steamer Aragon. Shortly after, by the equally good vessel Araguaya, of the Royal Mail Steamship Company, I returned to England, where I arrived in broken health on April 20th, 1912. It was a relief to me to land at Southampton, with all my notes, the eight hundred photographs I had taken, and the maps which I had made of the regions traversed.

[477]

## APPENDIX

### SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL PLANTS OF BRAZIL

(C.) | = | Colouring and Tanning. | (P.) | = | Palms.
(C.W.) | = | Woods good for Construction. | (L.) | = | Lactiferous.
(M.) | = | Medicinal. | (O.) | = | Oliferous.
(F.) | = | Fibrous. | (S.) | = | Starchy.
(R.) | = | Resinous. | (T.) | = | Tanning.

Alocasia macrorhiza Schott | Inhame | (S.)
Anchietea salutaris St. Hil. | Cipo suma | (M.)
Andira spectabilis Sald. | Angelim Pedra | (C.W.)
Andira vermifuga | Angelim amargoso | (C.W.)
Apuleia præcox M. | Grapiapunha | (F.)
Arachis hypogœa L. | Amendoim | (O.)
Araucaria Brasiliana Lamb | Pinho do Paraná | (C.W.)
Aristoiochia (various kinds) | Jarrinha | (M.)
Asclepia curassavica L. | Official da sala | (M.)
Aspidosperma dasycarpon A.D.C. | Peroba rosa | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma eburneum Fr. All. | Pequia marfim | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma leucomelum Waring. | Peroba parda | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma macrocarpum M. | Guatambú | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma polyneuron M. Arg. | Peroba amarella | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma sessiliflorum Fr. All. | Pequia amarello | (C.W.)
Aspidosperma sp. | Peroba revessa | (C.W.)
Astronium fraxinifolium Schott | Gonçalo Alves | (C.W.)
Attalea funifera M. | Piassava | (P.)
Bertholletia excelsa H.B.K. | Castanha do Pará | (O.)
Bignoniaceas (various kinds) | Caroba | (M.)
Bixa orellana L. | Urucú | (C.)
Boerhavia hirsuta Willd. | Herva-tostão | (M.)
Bromelia (various kinds) | Caragoatá | (F.) (S.)
Brunfelsia Hopeana Benth. | Manacá | (M.)
Byrsonima (various kinds) | Muricy | (C.)
Cabralea cangerana Sald. | Cangerana | (C.W.)
Cæsalpinia echinata Lam. | Pao Brasil | (C.W.)
[478]Cæsalpinia ferrea M. | Pao Ferro | (C.W.)
Calophyllum brasiliense C. | Guanandy | (R.)
Capaifera (various kinds) | Copahyba | (O.)
Cassia (two kinds) | Canafistula | (F.)
Cayaponia (various kinds) | Cayapó | (M.)
Cecropia (various kinds) | Embauba | (F.)
Cedrera fissilis Vell. | Cedro vermelho | (C.W.)
Centrolobium robustum M. | Arariba amarello | (C.W.)
Centrolobium tomentosum Benth. | Arariba rosa | (C.W.)
Chiococca anguifuga M. | Cipo cruz | (M.)
Chrysophyllum glyciphlœum Cazar | Buranhen | (C.W.)
Chrysophyllum glyciphlœum Cazar | Monesia | (M.)
Cissampelos (various kinds) | Abútua | (M.)
Ciusta criuva Cambess | Manguerana | (F.)
Cocos nucifera L. | Coqueiro Bahia | (P.)
Coffea arabica L. | Caféeiro |
Copaifera guaianensis Desf. | Copahyba | (C.W)
Copernicia cerifera M. | Carnahubeira | (C.W.) (P.)
Cordia alliodora Cham. | Louro | (C.W.)
Couratari estrellensis Raddi | Jequitiba Vermelho | (C.W.)
Coutarea hexandra Schum | Quina-quina | (M.)
Cuscuta (various kinds) | Cipo chumbo | (M.)
Dalbergia nigra Fr. All. | Jacarandá cabiuna | (C.W.)
Dioscoreas batatas D.C. | Cará | (S.)
Drimys granatensis Mutis | Casca d'anta | (M.)
Echyrosperum Balthazarii Fr. All. | Vinhatico amarello | (C.W.)
Eloeis guineensis L. | Dendé | (P.)
Erythrina corallodendron L. | Mulungú | (M.)
Esenbeckia febrifuga M. | Laran do Matto | (M.)
Esenbeckia leiocarpa | Guarantan | (C.W.)
Eugenia durissima | Ubatinga | (C.W.)
Euterpe edulis M. | Palmito | (P.)
Euterpe oleracea L. | Assahy | (P.)
Favillea deltoidea Cogu | Fava de S. Ignacio | (O.)
Ficus (various species) | Figueiras | (L.)
Genipa Americana L. | Genipapo | (C.)
Gesnera alagophylla M. | Batata do campo | (M.)
Gossipum (various kinds) | Algodoeiro |
Harncornia speciosa M. | Mangabeira | (L.)
Hedychium coron-koen | Lyrio do brejo | (S.)
Hymencæa courbaril L. | Jatahy | (C.W.) (R.)
Ilex paraguayensis St. Hil. | Maté | (M.)
Inga edulis M. | Inga-assú | (C.W.)
Ipomœa jalapa Pursh. | Jalapa | (M.)
Jatropha curcas L. | Pinhão de purga | (O.)
Johannesia princeps Vell. | Anda-assú | (O.)
[479]Lafoensia (various kinds) | Pacuri | (C.)
Laguncularia rac. Gaertu. | Mangue branco | (F.)
Landolphia (various kinds) | Pacouri | (L.)
Lecythis grandiflora Berg. | Sapucaia commun | (C.W.)
Lecythis ollaria Piso | Sapucaia -assú | (C.W.)
Lecythis ovata | Cambess Sapucaia mirim | (C.W.)
Lisianthus pendulus M. | Genciana Brazil | (M.)
Machærium Alemanni Benth. | Jacarandá violeta | (C.W.)
Machærium incorruptibile Fr. All. | Jacarandá rosa | (C.W.)
Machærium leucopterum Vog. | Jacarandá tan | (C.W.)
Maclura (two kinds) | Tajuba | (C.)
Maclura affinis Mig. | Tajuba | (C.W.)
Malvaceas (various kinds) | Guaxima | (F.)
Manicaria saccifera G. | Ubussú | (P.)
Manihot (two kinds) | Mandioca | (S.)
Manihot | Maniçoba | (L.)
Mauritia vinifera M. | Burity | (P.)
Melanoxylon brauna Schott | Guarauna | (C.W.)
Mespilodaphne sassafras Meissn. | Canella sassafraz | (C.W.)
Mikania (various kinds) | Guaco | (M.)
Mimusops (various kinds) | Massaranduba | (L.)
Mimusops elata Er. All. | Massaranduba Grande | (C.W.)
Moldenhauera floribunda Schrad | Grossahy azeite | (C.W.)
Moquilea tomentosa Benth. | Oity | (C.W.)
Musa (various kinds) | Bananeira |
Myracroduon urundeuva Fr. All. | Urindueva | (C.W.)
Myristica (two kinds) | Bucu huba | (O.)
Myrocarpus erythroxylon Fr. All. | Oleo vermelho | (C.W.)
Myrocarpus frondosus | Oleo pardo | (C.W.)
Myrsine and Rapanea (various kinds) | Copororoca | (F.)
Nectandra amara Meissn. | Canella parda | (C.W.)
Nectandra mollis Meissn. | Canella preta | (C.W.)
Nectandra myriantha Meissn. | Canella capitão-mor | (C.W.)
Nicotina tabacum L. (various kinds) | Fumo |
Operculina convolvulus M. | Batata de purga | (M.)
Oreodaphne Hookeriana Meissn. | Itauba preta | (C.W.)
Paullinia sorbilis M. | Guaraná | (M.)
Pilocarpus pinnatifolius | Jaborandy | (M.)
Piper umbellatum L. | Pariparoba | (M.)
Piptadenia rigida Benth | Angico | (C.W.) (F.)
Protium (various kinds) | Almecega | (R.)
Psidium acutangulum M. | Araça pyranga | (C.W.)
Psychotria ipec. M.A. | Poaya legitima | (M.)
Pterodon pubëscens | Faveiro | (C.W.)
Renealmia occident. P. and E. | Capitiú | (M.)
Rhizophora Mangle L. | Mangue verm. | (F.)
[480]Rhopala Gardnerii Meissn. | Carvalho Vermelho | (C.W.)
Ricinus communis L. | Mamoneira | (O.)
Saccharum officin. L. (various kinds) | Canna de assucar |
Sanserieria (two kinds) | Espada | (F.)
Schinus terebenthifolius Raddi | Aroeira | (C.W.) (R.)
Silvia navalium Fr. All. | Tapinhoã | (C.W.)
Siphonia elastica (Hevea) (various kinds) | Seringueira | (L.)
Smilax (various kinds) | Japecanga | (M.)
Solanum (various kinds) | Jurubeba | (M.)
Strychnos macroacanthos P. | Quassia | (M.)
Stryphnodendron barbatimão M. | Barbatimão | (C.W.) (T.)
Styracaceas (various kinds) | Estoraqueiro | (R.)
Syphonia globulifera L.F. | Anany | (R.)
Tecoma araliacea P.D.C. | Ipé una | (C.W.)
Tecoma pedicellata Bur. and K. Sch. | Ipé tabaco | (C.W.)
Terminalia acuminata Fr. All. | Guarajuba | (C.W.)
Theobroma cacao L. | Cacaoeiro |
Tournefortia (various kinds) | Herva de Lagarto | (M.)
Vanilla (three kinds) | Baunilha | (M.)
Vitex Montevidensis Cham. | Taruman | (C.W.)
Vouacapoua Americana Aubl. | Acapú | (C.W.)
Xanthosoma sagit. Schott | Tayoba | (S.)
Xylopia (various kinds) | Embira | (F.)

### MAMMALS

Atele paniscus | Coatá
Balsena australis | Baleia austral
Bradypus tridactylus | Preguiça
Callithrix scicuria | Saymiri do Pará
Canis brasiliensis | Aguarachaim
Canis jubatus | Guará
Cavia cobaya | Cobaya
Cebus appella | Macaco chorão
Cercolabos prehensilis | Coandú
Cervus dama | Gamo
Cervus elaphus | Veado
Cervus rufus | Guazú-Pita
Cœelogenys pacca | Pacca
Dasyprocta aguti | Cotia
Dasypus novemcinctus | Tatú de cauda comprida
Delphinus amazonicus | Golfinho
Dicotyles labiatus | Porco queixada branco
Dicotyles torquatus | Caetitú canella ruiva
[481]Didelphis azuræ | Gambà
Didelphis marsupialis | Philandra
Felis concolor | Sussuarana
Felis onça | Jaguar
Felis pardalis | Jaguatirica
Gallictis barbara | Irara
Hapale jacchus | Ouistití or mico
Hydrochoerus capibara | Capivara
Lepus brasiliensis | Coelho
Lutra brasiliensis | Ariranha
Manatus australis | Peixe-boi do Pará
Mephitis suffocans | Jacarecaguá
Myrmecophaga jutaba | Tamanduá bandeira
Nasua socialis | Caotí de bando
Nasua solitaria | Caotí de mundeo
Phyllostoma spectrum | Vampiro
Procyon concrivorus | Guaxinim
Sciurus æstuans | Caxinguelê
Tapirus americanus | Anta
Vespertilio auritus | Morcego orelhudo
Vespertilio murinus | Morcego commun

### BIRDS

Ajaja | Colhereiro
Alauda arvensis | Cotovia
Amazona amazonica | Curiça
Amazona brasiliensis | Papagaio
Ampelis atropurpurea | Cotinga vermelha do Pará
Anumbius anumbi | Cochicho
Ara ararauna | Arara azul
Ara macao | Arara piranga
Ara nobilis | Maracanã
Aramides saracura | Saracura
Aramus scolopaceus | Carão
Ardea Socoi | João Grande
Ateleodacius speciosa | Sahi
Belonopterus cayannensis | Quero-quero
Brotogeris tirica | Periquito
Cacicus cela | Checheo
Cairina moschata | Pato do matto
Calospiza pretiosa | Sahira
Calospiza toraxica | Sahira verde
Caprimulgus cericeocaudalus | Curiango
[482]Cathartes atratus | Urubú
Cathartes Papa | Urubú roi
Ceryle amazona | Martim pescador
Charadrius dominicus | Tarambola
Chasmorhychus nudicolis | Araponga
Chauna cristata | Tachan
Chiromachæris gutturosus | Corrupião
Colaptes campestris | Pica-pão
Columba domestica | Pombo domestico
Columba turtur | Rõla
Conurus jendaya | Nandaya
Corvus corax | Corvo
Crax alector | Hocco do Pará
Crax pinima | Mutum
Creciscus exilis | Frango d'agua verde
Crypturus japura | Macucan
Crypturus notivagus | Jahó
Crypturus rufescens | Tinamú ruivo
Crypturus scolopax | Juó
Crypturus soui | Turury
Crypturus variegatus | Inhambú anhanga
Dacnis cayana | Sahi azul
Dendrocygna fulva | Marreca peba
Dendrocygna viduata | Irerê
Donacubius articapillus | Japacamin
Eudocimus ruber | Guará
Euphonia aurea | Gaturamo amarello
Eurypyga helias | Pavão do Pará
Falco destructor | Harpya
Falco haliætus | Aguia
Falco sparverius | Falcão
Fringilla carduelis | Pintasilgo
Fulica armillata | Carqueja
Furnarius rufus | João de barro
Gallinago delicata | Narceja
Gallinago gigantea | Gallinhola
Grotophaga ani | Anú
Glaucidium brasilianum | Caburé
Heterospizias meridionalis | Gavião caboclo
Hycter americanus | Can-can
Ibis rubra | Ibis escarlate
Jacamaralcyon tridactyla | Beija flor bicudo
Jonornis martinica | Frango d'agua azul
Lauru macubipennis | Gaivota
Leptotila rufaxilla | Juruty
Loxia cardinalis | Cardeal
[483]Meleagris gallopavo | Perú
Microdactylus cristatus | Seriema
Minus lividus | Sabiá da praia
Milvago Chimachim | Caracará
Milvago chimango | Chimango
Molothrus bonariensis | Vira-bosta
Molybdophanes cœrules | Maçarico real
Morinella interpres | Batuira
Mucivora tyrannus | Tesoura
Myopsitta monachus | Catorrita
Myothera rex | Myothera real
Nomomyx dominicus | Can-can
Nothura maculosa | Codorna
Nyctidromus albicolis derbyanus | Bacuraú
Odontophorus capueira | Urú
Opisthocomus cristatus | Cigana
Oriolus brasiliensis | Sapú
Oryzoborus angolensis | Avinhado
Oryzoborus crassirostris | Bicudo
Ostinops decumanus | Yapú
Otalis katraca | Aracuan
Parra jacana | Jacaná
Pavo cristatus | Pavão
Penelope cristata | Jacú
Phasianus colchicus | Faisão
Piaya cayana | Alma de gato
Picus Martius | Picanço negro
Pionus menstruns | Maitaca
Pipra strigilata | Manequim variegado
Piroderus scutatus | Pavó
Pisorhin choliba | Coruja
Pitherodius pileatus | Garça real
Podiceps americanus | Mergulhão
Polyborus tharus | Carancho
Psittacus passerinus | Tuim
Psophius crepitans | Agami
Rhamphastos discolorus | Tucano
Rhea americana | Avestruz, Ema
Rupicola | Gallo do Pará
Siconea mycteria | Jaburú
Stephanophorus leucocephalus | Azulão
Sterna hirundinacea | Trinta reis
Sula leucogastra | Mergulhão
Syrigma sibilatrix | Socó assobiador
Tanagra citrinella | Tanagra de cabeça amarella
Tantalus americanus | Tuyuyu
[484]Tinamus tao | Macuco
Triclaria cyanogaster | Sabia-cica
Turdus rufiventris | Sabia larangeira
Volatinia jacarini | Serrador
Xanthormis pyrrhopterus | Encontro

### FISH

Acanthurus bahianus | Acanthuro Bahiano
Caranx pisquelus | Solteira
Chromis acara | Acará
Cichla brasiliensis | Nhacundá
Coryphœna | Dourado
Curimatus laticeps | Curimatá
Cybium regale | Sororóca
Cymnotus electricus | Poraqué
Eugraulis Brossnü | Anchova
Eugraulis encrausicholus | Sardinha
Leporinus | Piaú
Macrodon trahira | Trahira
Merlangus vulgaris | Pescada
Murœna anguilla | Enguia dos rios
Petromyzom marinum | Lampreia do mar
Platystoma Lima | Surubim
Primelodé Pirinambú | Pirinambú
Prochilodus argenteus | Pacú
Rhinobates batis | Raia lisa
Scomber scombrus | Cavalla
Serrasalmo piranha | Piranha
Silurus bagrus | Bagre
Solea vulgaris | Linguado
Squalus carcharias | Tuburão
Tristis antiquorum | Espadarte
Vastres gigas | Pirarucú

### REPTILES

#### CROCODILES AND LIZARDS

Caiman fissipes | Jacaré
Enyalius bilimeatus | Camaleão listrado
Teus monitor | Teyú

[485]

#### SNAKES

Boa constrictor | Giboia constrigente
Bothrops indolens | Jararaca preguiçosa
Ciclagras gigas | Boipevaussú
Coluber poecilostoma | Caninana
Crotalus durissus | Cobra de cascavel commun
Crotalus horridus | Cobra de cascavel hor.
Crotalus mutus | Sururucú
Crotalus terrificus | Boicininga, Cascavel
Drimobius bifossatus | Cobra nova
Elaps corallinus | Boi coral
Elaps corallinus | Cobra coral
Elaps frontalis | Boi coral
Erythrolamprus æsculapii | Cobra coral
Eunectes murinus | Sucuriú
Helicops modestus |
Herpetodryas carinatus |
Herpetodryas sexcarinatus | Copra-cipó
Hyla faber | Pereréca ferreiro
Lachesis alternatus | Urutú, cotiara, cruzeiro, etc.
Lachesis atrox | Jararaca, jararacucu
Lachesis bilineatus | Surucucú patioba
Lachesis castelnaudi |
Lachesis itapetingæ | Cotiarinha, boipeva, furta-côr
Lachesis jararacucu | Jararacucu, surucuçú, tapête
Lachesis lanceolatus | Jararaca, jararacucu
Lachesis Lansbergii |
Lachesis mutus | Sururucú, surucutinga
Lachesis neuwiedii | Urutú, jaraca do rabo branco
Liophis almadensis | Jararaquinha do campo
Liophis pœcilogyrus |
Oxirhopus trigeminus | Cobra coral, boi coral
Philodryas serra |
Pipa curcurucú | Entanha
Phrynonax sulphureus | Canninana
Radinœa Merremii | Cobra d'agua
Radinœa undulata |
Rhachidelus Brazili | Mussurana
Thamnodynastes nattereri |
Xenedon merremii | Boipeva

#### TORTOISES

Chelys fimbriata | Mata-matá
Emys amazonica | Jurara-assú
Emys tracaxa | Tracajá
Testudo tabulata | Jabuti

[486]

### VOCABULARIES

#### BORORO—APIACAR—MUNDURUCU—CAMPAS or ANTIS

ENGLISH. | BORORO. | APIACAR. | MUNDURUCU. | CAMPAS OR ANTIS.
--- | --- | --- | --- | ---
Anger |  |  |  | nokatzmatahtzeh
Angry |  |  | sapecoreh |
Ant |  |  |  | cachpigache
Anta (Tapir) |  |  | biuh |
Ariranha |  |  | auareh |
Arm |  |  | ueiba | noshempa
Arm (1st pers.) | ikkanna | zizuhbáh |  |
Arm (2nd pers.) | akkanna |  |  |
Arm (3rd pers.) | kanna |  |  |
Arm (elbow to shoulder) |  | zizubah puha |  |
Arm (elbow to wrist) (1st pers.) | ittaddagara | zizubah ziahppura |  |
Arm (elbow to wrist) (2nd pers.) | akkeddagan |  |  |
Arm (elbow to wrist) (3rd pers.) | akkagara |  |  |
Armlet (ribbon) | canagadje geo | tahttùh ahsa (metal bracelet) zih pahürahna (fibre bracelet) |  |
Arrow |  |  |  | tchohkopi
Arrow-head | tugh otto | uübaffah |  |
Arrow feathers | attahga | uübappah |  |
Arrows | tuhga | uüba | ubipah |
Ashes | djoroguddo | tahnimbuga tanimbo | kaburi |
Attack (to) | bakkuredda | ahre mohmmahíh |  |
Aureole of feathers | parikko | ahkahntarah |  |
Axe |  |  | uah |
Bad |  |  |  | kahmáhri
Bag |  |  |  | nottaratti
Bands (ankle) | burere paro gagadje geo | tah pakkuhrah |  |
Bands (knee) | buregadje geo | tah pakkuhrah |  |
Barter (to) |  | ahmazohppuhru |  |
Baskets (for bones of deceased) | koddo | mbuhah |  |
Beans |  |  | adianrap | macha
[487]Beard | nogua buh | tennovohava | erapirap | noshpatonna
Beautiful |  |  | rip |
Bees |  |  | eit |
Belly | butto |  | euk | nomucha
Belt (for women) | coggu | mahté pikku ahsa |  |
Belt |  |  |  | nuata quero
Big | kurireo | huh or hun | berehiubuh | niroikki
Bird | kiyeggeh | ühráh | uassehm | tzmehdi
Black |  |  | inucat | potztaghi takarontz
Blind | yoko bokkua | dai haï |  |
Blood |  | ærui |  | irantz
Blue |  |  | ibitacobush | tahmaroli
Born (to be) | curi butto | ohíh |  |
Bow | baiga | ühwürrappara | irarek | piamen
Bow (1st pers.) | inaiga |  |  |
Bow (2nd pers.) | anaiga |  |  |
Bow (3rd pers.) | baiga |  |  |
Bow-string | baighikko | übühra pahama |  |
Boy | méhdrogo |  |  |
Boy (plural) | neh ghe kogureh | azzih van vohsáh |  |
Bracelet |  |  |  | marentz
Break (to) | rettegaddo, tuo | ahmoppéhn |  |
Breathe | akke | ippottuh hém |  |
Brother |  |  | uagnuh | yegue
Brother eldest | ihmanna | zikkuhbuhra | uamuh |
Brother (1st pers.) |  |  |  |
Brother (2nd pers.) | ahmanna |  |  |
Brother (3rd pers.) | uhmanna |  |  |
Brother (general) | tchemanna |  |  |
Brother (1st p. p.) | pahmanna |  |  |
Brother (2nd p. p.) | tahmanna |  |  |
Brother (3rd p. p.) | ettuhmanna |  |  |
Brother younger |  | zihrukkiera | ocutoh |
Brother (1st pers.) | ihvieh |  |  |
Brother (2nd pers.) | ahvieh |  |  |
Brother (3rd pers.) | uhvieh |  |  |
Brother (general) | tchevieh |  |  |
Brother (1st p. p.) | pahvieh |  |  |
Brother (2nd p. p.) | tahvieh |  |  |
Brother (3rd p. p.) | ettuvieh |  |  |
Butterfly |  |  | orebereb | kittandaro
Canoe | ikka | ühara |  | pitotzu
Caress (to) | kera amudda appo | uahvaippiáhr |  |
Charcoal | djoradde | tattah pühn |  |
[488]Chest (man's) | immorora | zipassiah | uei cameah | notto piné
Chest (1st pers.) |  |  |  |
Chest (2nd pers.) | ammorore |  |  |
Chest (3rd pers.) | morora |  |  |
Chest (woman's ) | immokkuro ammokkuro mokkuro | izi kahma | uei came | ciuccioni
Child |  |  |  | entzih
Chin (1st pers.) | inogura | zirenuvah | hueniepaeh |
Chin (2nd pers.) | akogura |  |  |
Chin (3rd pers.) | okkura |  |  |
Cloak (worn by Campas) |  |  |  | kittahreutz
Cloud |  |  | crehreate |
Clouds | boettugo | ivagon |  | menkori
Cold | biakko | irhossahn |  |
Comet | cujedje kigareu |  |  |
Courage | paguddah bokua | ihmandarahih |  |
Crocodile |  |  | abatchiri |
Cry | araguddu | oh zaïyóh |  | niraatcha
Dance | erehru | ahniuaréh |  |
Dark | boetcho | puhtunhaïba |  | stiniri taki
Daughter |  |  | araichih | nessintcho
Day | meriji | koeïn |  |
Dead |  |  | abeh |
Deaf | bia bokkua | diahppuhai |  |
Deer |  |  | arapisehm |
Design (to ornament) | tugo | ohkuazzihat |  |
Die (to) | bi | ahmonnoh |  |
Dog | arigao | ahwaráh | yacurité | otzitii
Drink (to) | kuddo | uhükkuhr |  | nerachi nerativo riratzi
Drunk |  |  | icanuh | noshinghitatcha
Dumb | battaru bokkua | nogni enghih |  |
Ears |  | zinambí | naeinebui | noyembitta
Ears (1st pers.) | iviyah |  |  |
Ears (2nd pers.) | aviyah |  |  |
Ears (3rd pers.) | biyah |  |  |
Earth | motto | wuhra |  |
Earthquake | mottumagaddo |  |  |
Eat | ko | animaüvuttáh | inenetieh com, combih | noatcha
Egg |  |  | tupissa |
Enemy |  | zih ruhwahsahra |  |
[489]Eyebrows |  | zirapezavah |  | notta makku
Eyebrows (1st pers.) | iyerera |  |  |
Eyebrows (2nd pers.) | aerira |  |  |
Eyebrows (3rd pers.) | djerira |  |  |
Eyelashes |  |  |  | noshumpigokki
Eyes (1st pers.) | yokko | ziarakkuara |  | lokki
Eyes (2nd pers.) | aekko |  |  |
Eyes (3rd pers.) | dyokko |  |  |
Fat | kavaddo | hih haï |  | uannanowata
Father | pao | zihruwa | utahbah | ahppah
Father (1st pers.) | iyuohka |  |  |
Father (2nd pers.) | ao |  |  |
Father (3rd pers.) | uho |  |  |
Father (plur., our) | tcheo |  |  |
Father (your) | tao |  |  |
Father (their) | ettuoh |  |  |
Feathers (of wings) | ikkoddo | ürapeppoh |  |
Feathers (of tail) | ayaga | mehruazah |  |
Fight |  |  |  | nogempi
Find (to) | jordure gí | uèppiahr |  |
Finger or thumb | ikkera kurireo | ziffah |  | notta pakki
Finger (first) | boya gaisso |  |  |
Finger (second) | boya taddao | ziffah mottehra |  |
Finger (third) | mekkijio | ziffah inha |  |
Finger (small) | biagareo | ziffah inha |  |
Fire | djoro | tahttáh | eraitcha | pah mahri
Fish | kahre | pihráh | ashiman | gna denga aite shumma
Five |  |  | brancogeh |
Fling arrows with a bow | kiddogoddu | oh üvahn |  |
Fly (to) | koddu | ahvevéh |  | haratzu
Foot |  | zihppuha | ibuih | numaronca nocunta noetzi
Foot (1st pers.) | iyure |  |  |
Foot (2nd pers. ) | aure |  |  |
Foot (3rd pers.) | bure |  |  |
Foot (sole of) |  |  |  | noetzi or nuitche
Forehead |  |  |  | nohpanka nopanka
Forest | ittura | kahueh kauru khuh |  |
Forest (thick) | iguro kurireo |  |  |
Four |  |  | ibaribrip |
Fowl |  |  |  | ataripa
Friend |  |  | ubeshi |
Fright | paguddah | ohkkriheéh |  | nottaruatzo
[490] |  |  |  |
Give (to) | makko | ahmandáh |  |
(I give him) | makkai |  |  |
Girl | ahredrogo | ahwah vohsáh |  |
Girl (plural) | naguareh kogureh |  |  |
God |  |  | Tuhpane | (Sun) pahua
Good |  |  | tchipat | kahméhta
Good afternoon |  | ené mahrukka |  |
Good day |  | ené cohéma |  |
Good night |  | nehppi tuhna kattuh |  |
Give me water |  |  |  | bina ina
Gourds (rattling gourds used by Bororos) | bappo |  |  |
Grandfather |  | zihra magna |  |
Grandfather (1st pers.) | yeddaga |  |  |
Grandfather (2nd pers.) | aeddoga |  |  |
Grandfather (3rd pers.) | iyeddoga |  |  |
Grandmother |  | zihza ruza |  |
Grandmother (1st pers.) | mugapega |  |  |
Grandmother (1st pers.) | imaruga |  |  |
Grandmother (2nd pers.) | atcharuga |  |  |
Grandmother (3rd pers.) | itcharuga |  |  |
Grass |  |  |  | tuarish
Green |  |  |  | natchari
Guayaba (fruit) |  |  |  | comassique
Gums of teeth |  |  |  | nohtapu
Gun |  |  |  | natziarih
Hair |  | ziava | kahp | noeshi
Hair (1st pers.) | ittao |  |  | nuesse
Hair (2nd pers.) | akkao |  |  |
Hair (3rd pers.) | ao |  |  |
Hand |  | zippoa | ibuih | nakku
Hand (1st pers.) | ikkera |  |  |
Hand (2nd pers.) | akkera |  |  |
Hand (3rd pers.) | ijera |  |  |
Happy | jakkare | horrüm |  |
Hatred | okki | naimïa roi |  |
Head |  | ziakkan |  | noppolo
Head (1st pers.) | ittaura |  |  |
Head (2nd pers.) | akkaura |  |  |
Head (3rd pers.) | aura |  |  |
Head band (worn by Campas) |  |  |  | nahmattery
Hear (to) |  |  |  | nokkie makimpi
Hearing | merudduo | ziahppuhăh |  |
[491]Heart |  |  |  | nasangani
Heat |  | heai |  |
Heel |  |  |  | tsungueche
Hippopotamus | aidje |  |  |
Honey |  |  | eit attuh |
Hunt (to) |  |  | itieh urepp | nomarma wai tazu
Husband | ohreddo | zihméhna acuimibaeh |  | nueme
Husband (plural) | tcheddoreddo pagoreddo ettohreddo |  |  |
Hut |  |  | anioca | mengotcha pangotzu
I do not want |  |  |  | erocaticondaca, fenotchiro eroka
I want you |  |  |  | noni chempe naka
Ill | cogoddu | ikkaruhara |  | nohmahrtzi
Illness | jorubbu | zihkkáh ruhara |  |
Ill-treat (to) | utchebai, erugoddo kigoddo | huàuàr |  |
Indian corn |  |  |  | sagre ssengue famadole ssengue
Infuriated (to be) | kurigoddo | zih manarahíh |  |
Iron |  |  |  | kirieh tonghi
Island |  |  | tiahueruh |
Jump | karetta | appóll |  | nuhme atcha
Kill (to) | bitto | ahzukkah |  | noautziri
Knee | ippoh godaoh | zirinupphuá | yon-ah | loyeretto yerito
Knuckles |  |  |  | nouaviro
Lake | kuruga | üppiah |  |
Large | kuri | hih haï |  | andavuete
Laugh | noguari | ahpukkàh |  | noshontatchu
Leaf |  |  |  | kahrashi
Lean |  |  |  | tonghnizi
Leg |  | zirito mahk | oira-oh | noh pori
Leg (1st pers.) | ippogora | khana |  |
Leg (2nd pers.) | appogora |  |  |
Leg (3rd pers.) | pogora |  |  |
Let us go |  |  |  | fame ate
Light | djorugo | uhüga |  | (lamp) purika
Light a fire (to) | djaro guddo djoruggo | tahttàh induh |  |
Lightning | baigahbe | tupan veravah tupasseo |  | pureka
[492]Lip (lower) |  |  |  | nohtchare
Lip (upper) |  |  |  | nohpanti
Lips |  |  |  | tchara
Little |  |  |  | capichenni
Lose (to) | okkua | ohkkagnüh |  |
Love | aiddu | ahmán oron |  | nohnindatzimbi
Lunacy |  | heh wuhruh |  |
Man | mehddo | ahzibah | aniocat | shambari
Man (plural) | ihme |  |  |
Man (old) |  |  | iabut |
Milky way | cujedje doghe ehro guddo | aniang puku zahwara | kabieureh tpuih |
Monkey |  |  | taueh | oshetto
Moon | ahri | zahir |  | kahshi
Moon (during a) |  |  | kachi |
Morning |  |  | kabi ason | kittaittidih
Mosquito |  |  | caame |
Mother |  | zihuba | anhih | nanná
Mother my | ihmuga (1st p.) |  |  |
Mother thy | atche (2nd p.) |  |  |
Mother his | utche (3rd p.) |  |  |
Mother | tchedge (general) |  |  |
Mother our | padge (1st pers. plural) |  |  |
Mother yours | tadge (2nd p.) |  |  |
Mother theirs | ettudge (3rd) |  |  |
Mountain |  | iuitir | otioah | chahtoshi
Mountains | toreakkari | ühwüttura |  |
Mountains (range of) | toreakkari doghe | ühwüttura |  |
Moustache |  |  |  | noshpatonna
Mouth |  |  | ueibi | nottaramash
Mule |  |  |  | manno mari
Nails (of fingers) |  |  | ueimba rahn | nosha takki tchamoro
Neck |  |  |  |
Neck (front of) | iruho | zisuhra |  |
Neck (1st pers.) |  |  |  |
Neck (2nd pers.) | aruho |  |  |
Neck (3rd pers.) | ruho |  |  |
Neck (back of) |  | zikupeah |  |
Neck (1st pers.) | ikiddoro |  |  |
Neck (2nd pers. ) | akkiddoro |  |  |
Neck (3rd pers. ) | ittoro |  |  |
Necklace |  |  |  | nighitzki
Night | batchioji | kaáhrúh puitun ahiueh | atchiman |
[493]No | boro, carega boekkimo kah (suffix) bokkua | napohttahri | cahmah |
Nose |  | zissignah |  | nokkirimash
Nose (1st pers.) | ikkenno |  |  |
Nose (2nd pers.) | akkenno |  |  |
Nose (3rd pers.) | kenno |  |  |
Oar |  |  |  | kumarontzu
Old |  |  |  | kinkiuari
Onça (jaguar) |  |  | huira |
One |  |  | pan |
Parrot |  |  | aruh |
Perspire (to) | caroh | zihruhaï |  | nama savitache
Pig |  |  |  | pihratz
Pottery (for cooking) |  | tahpe quazzihar |  |
Pot (large) | ariya |  |  |
Pot (small) | ruobo | gnaéh peppóh |  |
Pot (very small) | pohri |  |  |
Pot (very small) | pohri (gabo) |  |  |
Pot (very small) | pohrero |  |  |
Present | makkakai | ahmbehunteheh |  |
Rain | buh buttu | ahmanna | monbaht | ngagni
| (boe) buttu | aman |  |
Rainbow |  |  |  | ohyié
Rapid (cataract) |  | ituihi |  |
Receive | makkinai (I received) | ahmbohul |  |
Red |  |  | patpecat | kitchongahri
Reward | mohri |  |  |
Rise (to) | racodje | ehppóhan |  |
River | poba | parana |  | gnah
River (large) | poba kurireo | parana hun |  |
River (small) | pahga | parana hin |  |
Rock | tori | ittahih(n) |  |
Rock (large) | tori kurireo | ittahuh(n) |  |
Rocks |  |  |  | mappih
Run | reh | oh gnama |  | preteten spayieni
Run (to) |  |  |  | noshatchah
Run away (to) | arekoddo | zihppohséh |  |
Sad | kierigoddo | ahnimombü áh |  |
Salt |  |  | caotah |
Same |  |  |  | fecatche cuanta nana
Scratch | kiggori | ogni oï |  |
[494]Sea |  |  |  | (unknown)
Search (to) | wogai | éhekkahr |  |
See (to) |  |  |  | nogna akuripi
Shame | poguruh | ah(g)ni nossïn |  |
Shin | iraetta |  |  |
Shiver | magoddo | zihrahúh |  |
Shooting stars | aroi koddo | zahir ta tai wai |  |
Sight | aiyuoh djohruddoh | ueppiáh pottahr |  |
Silver |  |  |  | kiriekki
Sing |  | amaracaib |  |
Sing (to) | roya, arage | mahrakkahi | huamame |
Sing (and dance) |  |  |  | nowishtiaccia
Sister |  | garikie zihreüsa | etchih | tchogue
Sister (1st pers.) | ittuiyeh |  |  |
Sister (2nd pers.) | attuiyeh |  |  |
Sister (3rd pers.) | uttuhiyeh |  |  |
Sister (general) | tchedduiyeh |  |  |
Sister (1st p. p.) | pahduiyeh |  |  |
Sister (2nd p. p.) | tahduiyeh |  |  |
Sister (3rd p. p.) | ettuhduiyeh |  |  |
Sister (younger) |  | zihkuppuhera |  |
Sit (to) | mogudda | oh ahppúh |  | nosseiki
Sky | baru | üvahga ivagh | kabi |
Sleep |  |  |  | ahmayaweh
Sleep (to) | nuddoh | okkiéht |  |
Small | biagattigé biagareu pikkiriri rogo | suhhin |  | entzit gliagnini japchoquin
Smell (sense of) | ikkenomeruddo (nose hears) | uéttóhn |  |
Smoke | djereddudde | tahttahssin |  |
Smoke (to) | coguatta medji (eat smoke) | ohppeh tambúh |  |
Snake |  |  | puibui |
Snake (large) |  |  | pushiribeh |
Son |  |  | ipot | nientzteh nochumi
Speak |  |  |  | nona guayte
Speak (to) | battaru | ogni éh |  | nugniáni
Spit |  |  |  | notchôrah
Star | cujedje | zahir ta tai | kasupta |
Stars | cujedje doghe |  |  | bogro
Steel |  |  |  | coshintzi
Stone |  |  | itai |
Streamlet |  |  |  | gnahtinka
Strong |  |  |  | niroite katzuini
Strong sun |  |  |  | minchare pahua
[495]Sun | mehri | ahra cuaracu | huatchi | pah hua
Sunrise | mehri rutto | ahra nikki uh appoha |  |
Sunset | mehri re rotto mehri butto | ahra nikki hoh |  |
Swim | kuhru | oh üttapp |  | nahmatatzu
Tail (of an animal) | oh | behruaza |  |
Tall | kuritchiga aritchodo | ih zuh hàh |  | iriritheh
Tattoo |  | zihzuppohra (on chin) zihra pegnana (on forehead and eyebrows) |  |
Teeth |  | ziragna | erahi | naikki
Teeth (1st pers.) | ittah |  |  |
Teeth (2nd pers.) | akkoh |  |  |
Teeth (3rd pers.) | oh |  |  |
Ten |  |  | ohehssuat |
Thank you | unknown to all
Then | tohare |  |  |
Thigh | immomonna ippohgahdde | zihuwa |  |
Thin | rakkiggiarogogo | ah sihnnin |  |
Thirst |  |  | bipehrehp |
Three |  |  | tchibapehng |
Throat |  |  | huenie combira |
Throw (to) | barigo | ahmenbott |  |
Thumb |  |  |  | notta pakki
Thunder | boejaruru | tupah aman tsiuic |  | takkirisse
Tired |  |  | yahboroeh | nomautache (I am tired)
Toes | bure bahppe | zihppuhán |  | noetzi tapaki
Tongue |  |  |  | nonnenni
Tortoise |  |  | kanianiareh |
Touch | kerajettudji | ahmahppuh |  |
Tree | ippo | üba | eïp |
Tree (trunk of) | ippo | üba poh |  | uhtchattu
Tree (branch of) | ippo ittura | übakkan |  |
Trees |  |  |  | chatto
Trumpet |  | niumbiháh |  |
Two |  |  | tchepitchepe |
Ugly |  |  | guereh |
Umbilicus |  |  |  | nohmoetto
Uncle |  | tzi |  | natchalene
[496] |  |  |  |
Village |  | amonabuh |  |
Vomit (to) | towari goddo | zirivipposüh |  | nokkamarangatzu
Wait (to) | to gudduguddu giao | eh ohnroh |  |
Wake (to) | yettado | ehmma èh |  |
Walk | mehru | oh attáh |  | atteh otzki
Warm | boero | hakkuh |  |
Water | poba | üha | iribbi | gnah
Waterfall | pobbore | üttuh (fall) ühppohsuh (rapid) |  | opparengnahtazzi
Way |  |  |  | aboche
Weak |  |  |  | teshintztéh
West, East, North, South | (unknown to all)
What is this in the ... language? | Inno ba boi yiere? | gar te zih méhrennoih? |  |
White |  |  | iretiat | kittamorori
Wife | ohredduje | kuhnia | otachi | nuena
Wife (plural) |  |  |  |
Wife (1st pers.) | tchevireh |  |  |
Wife (2nd pers.) | pavireh |  |  |
Wife (3rd pers.) | ettuvireh tcheddoreddo (abbreviation of) tcheddoredduje |  |  |
Wild beasts | bahregghe | zahwahra |  |
Wind |  | iuituh | kabihru | tampeah
Woman | ahreddo | ahvah | tanian | coya
Woman (plural) | ahréhme |  | aiatiah |
Yellow |  |  |  | tchengotz
Yes | uh | apohttáh | ibeheh |
Yuka (jute) |  |  |  | cagniri

[497]

## INDEX

- Acre territory, i, 3; ii, 403, 408
- Aguachini River, ii, 440
- Albuquerque, Mr., ii, 276, 361-369
- Alcobaça, Port of, i, 110
- Amazon, main estuary of the, ii, 387
- Amazon River, ii, 385-391, 394-404, 416-418
- Amazon State, Governor of, ii, 405-406, 414
- Amazon, State of, i, 3
- Amazonas, launch, ii, 411
- Andes, journey across the, ii, 438-476
- Antofogasta, ii, 472, 473, 474, 475
- Ants, ii, 325
- Apiacar Indians, ii, 266, 278
- Apiacars, Vocabulary of language (Appendix), 486-496
- Arabiranga I., ii, 390
- Araguary, i, 51-61
- Araguaya River, i, 109, 115, 119, 159, 168
- Araguaya River, sources of the, i, 167
- Araujo, Mr. J. G., ii, 408
- Arequipa, ii, 460
- Arinos River, the, i, 431; ii, 1-150
- Arinos River, birthplace of the, i, 413
- Arinos River, meeting-place with the Juruena River, ii, 149-151
- Arinos-Juruena, ii, 151-263
- Ariranha (Lutra Brasiliensis), ii, 21, 26, 33, 58, 78, 88, 93, 159, 165
- Arrival in England, ii, 476
- Associação Commercial do Amazonas, ii, 408
- Atahualpa, S.S., ii, 416
- Atrocities, ii, 266
- August Falls, ii, 196-206
- Azupizu River, ii, 437, 440

- Bandeiras, the, i, 17
- Barretto, José Sotero, ii, 266, 269, 271, 273
- Batataes, i, 44
- Bay of Coralhina, ii, 389
- Bay of Guajara, ii, 390
- Bay of Jappelin, ii, 390
- Bay of Marajo, ii, 389
- Bees, i, 392; ii, 72, 123, 321
- Belem (Pará), ii, 390, 392
- Bella Vista, ii, 380
- Beluchistan, ii, 460
- Beri-beri, ii, 393, 457
- Bernardelli, Prof., i, 10
- Bertino Miranda Island, ii, 262
- Bilans, ii, 434
- Birds of Brazil (Appendix), 481
- Bolivia, ii, 471-474
- Bolivian Railways, ii, 473
- Booth Steamship Line, ii, 394, 410, 416, 417, 419
- Borax, ii, 475
- Bororo Indians, their origin, customs, manners, legends, anthropometric measurements, language, superstitions, music, etc., i, 207-263
- Bororos, Vocabulary of language (Appendix), 486-496
- Boundaries, i, 115, 116, 159; ii, 417
- [498] Boundaries, Matto-Grosso and Pará, ii, 268
- Boundaries, Minas Geraes and Goyaz, ii, 60, 62
- Boundary between Bolivia and Chili, ii, 474
- Brazil, area of, i, 3
- Brazil, wealth of, i, 4
- Brazil, Col. R. E., "King of the Tapajoz," ii, 368, 373-381
- Bueno de Silva, Bartholomeu, i, 105
- Buenos Ayres, ii, 475-476
- Butterflies, i, 94; ii, 55, 72

- Cacti, i, 155
- Cahombanas, ii, 435, 436
- Cahombanas, trails from, ii, 435
- Cairns, ii, 464
- Caju or Acaju, i, 158; ii, 335
- Caldas de Goyaz, i, 76
- Campas or Antis Indians, ii, 434, 444
- Campas or Antis Indians, Vocabulary of language (Appendix), 486-496
- Campinas, i, 91
- Cañon, a, i, 295, 358
- Canuma River, ii, 412
- Carnival, ii, 472
- Carrapatinhos, i, 136, 188, 342, 392
- Carrapatos, i, 138, 188, 334, 342
- Carts, i, 69
- Cashibos (Carapaches and Callisecas), ii, 432, 434
- Cassicus icterronatus (Jappelin), ii, 396
- Castanha do Pará, ii, 370
- Cathartes (Urubu), ii, 59
- Cattle breeding, i, 22, 106
- Cayapo Indians, ii, 13
- Cepa d'agua, i, 397
- Cervus elaphus (Veado), i, 184, 269, 316
- Church Rock, i, 382
- Ciancias, ii, 431
- Cocoa, ii, 400
- Coffee, i, 26-37
- Coffee, estates, i, 26
- Coffee, export, i, 21
- Colbacchini, Father A., i, 281
- Collings Bros., ii, 403
- Concepção (on the Araguaya), i, 110, 115
- Concepção Island, ii, 390
- Condamano, ii, 427
- Corumbá River, i, 70
- Corumbahyba, i, 68
- Crax pinima (mutum), ii, 284, 288
- Credentials, the use of, i, 118
- Cretins, i, 360
- Crocodiles, ii, 132
- Crypturus notivagus (jaho), ii, 284, 292
- Cuñer, J. J. V., Prefect of Cuzco, ii, 466
- Cutijuba Island, ii, 390
- Cuvettes, i, 312, 313, 318, 321, 327, 330, 347, 369, 378, 380, 412, 417, 430
- Cuyaba River, i, 19
- Cuzco, ii, 464
- Cuzco Railway, ii, 458-464

- De Rio Branco, Baron, i, 7
- Diamantino, i, 410, 419-428
- Diamantino, prices of commodities in, i, 420
- Diamonds, i, 149, 420
- Distance between Araguary and Goyaz, i, 101
- Distance between Iquitos and Lima, ii, 456
- Distance between Manaos and Iquitos, ii, 419
- Distance from the River Araguaya to Capim Branco, i, 343
- Distance from the River Arinos to Araguary, i, 432
- Distance from Araguary to Serra Azul, i, 410
- Distance from Goyaz City to Serra Azul, i, 410
- Dogs, ii, 130
- Dumont Estate, i, 36
- Dumont Railway, i, 37

- Effects of food after long period of starvation, ii, 346
- Effects of starvation on the brain, ii, 311, 316, 324, 326, 329, 331
- Electric spring of water, i, 284
- Elevation of the Araguaya, i, 169
- End of transcontinental journey, ii, 457
- [499] Esploradora, the launch, ii, 430, 437
- Eunictes murinus (Sucuriú), ii, 162
- Expedition, outfit of, i, 13

- Farquhar, Percival, ii, 403
- Fish, i, 153, 168; ii, 63, 90, 96, 104, 107, 126, 158, 223, 387, 484
- Flora, i, 4, 62, 75, 82, 85, 89, 99, 139, 143, 152, 155, 158, 164, 172, 175, 275, 311, 330, 332, 347, 348, 355, 380, 389, 396, 397, 406, 416, 417, 430; ii, 4, 10, 24, 25, 37, 49, 52, 54, 58, 63, 94, 95, 105, 108, 134, 207, 224, 227, 336, 370, 388, 398, 430, 432, 437, 477-480
- Fonseca, Marechal Hermes da, i, 107
- Forest, i, 5, 12
- Forest, across the virgin, ii, 278-365
- Forest, the Brazilian, ii, 67-69
- Forest fire, i, 385
- Fossils, the discovery of giant, i, 371-376
- Fossils, loss of, ii, 270
- Franca, i, 45
- Frontin, Dr. Paulo, i, 8, 16
- Furnas Corros Mountains, i, 206

- Garibaldi's grandson, ii, 450
- Gavião caboclo, i, 412
- Geological formation, i, 176, 182, 186, 187, 190, 194, 200, 204, 205, 267, 271, 273, 276, 278, 282, 287, 292, 301, 319, 322, 332, 334, 336, 349, 356, 363, 364, 368, 370, 380, 382-385, 393, 400, 407, 418; ii, 99, 142, 155, 168, 262, 384, 455
- Goyaz, i, 19
- Goyaz, city of, i, 100-131
- Goyaz, Government of, i, 108
- Goyaz, railway line in construction, i, 59, 61
- Goyaz, State of, i, 3
- Guajara Merim, ii, 403
- Guanabara, Alcindo, i, 7; ii, 124

- Hammocks, ii, 87
- Harvard Observatory, ii, 460
- History of the wars in the kingdom of Brazil between Holland and Portugal, i, 414
- Honesty of Peruvians, ii, 444, 452
- Horses of Goyaz, i, 106
- Huacapistana, ii, 452
- Hydrochærus Capibara (Capivara), ii, 49, 56, 124

- Igorrotes of Luzon Island, ii, 456
- Ilex Paraguayensis (Mate), ii, 59, 81
- Inca implements, ii, 470
- Inca matrimonial stone, ii, 469
- Inca ornaments, ii, 470
- Inca pottery, ii, 469
- Inca skulls, ii, 468
- Inca throne, ii, 467
- Inca weapons, etc., ii, 470
- Incas, the, ii, 441, 466-471
- Incas, architecture of the, ii, 466
- Incas, civilization of the, ii, 466-471
- Indians, i, 12, 17, 105, 185, 205, 207-263, 282, 338, 353; ii, 13, 70, 134, 158, 274, 423, 424, 430, 432, 434
- Insanity, i, 124
- Iquitos, ii, 418
- Islands of the Arinos and Arinos-Juruena Rivers—vol. ii.—
  - Ada I., ii, 120
  - Alastor I., ii, 65
  - Alberto Masõ I., ii, 171
  - Albert Rex I., ii, 110
  - Angela I., ii, 159
  - Anna I., ii, 121
  - Antonio Prado I., ii, 126, 128
  - Arabella I., ii, 140
  - Araujo I., ii, 263
  - Ariadne I., ii, 222
  - Armida I., ii, 98
  - Aspasia I., ii, 149
  - Babin I., ii, 186
  - Barretos I., ii, 126
  - Belinda I., ii, 184
  - Bertha I., ii, 141
  - Bomfin I., ii, 176
  - Bridget I., ii, 39
  - Camilla I., ii, 107
  - Carmela I., ii, 156
  - Caterina I., ii, 157
  - [500] Clara I., ii, 161
  - Corona I., ii, 122
  - Daphne I., ii, 126
  - Diana I., ii, 141, 168
  - Dora I., ii, 115
  - Edna I., ii, 115
  - Eileen I., ii, 141
  - Eleonora I., ii, 52
  - Elfrida Landor I., ii, 152
  - Elizabeth Chimay I., ii, 97
  - Elizabeth R. I., ii, 62, 111
  - Eloisa I., ii, 110
  - Emma I., ii, 117
  - Erminie I., ii, 121
  - Eva I., ii, 109
  - Evelina I., ii, 141
  - Faith, Hope and Charity Is., 98
  - Francesco I., ii, 152
  - Gabriella I., ii, 93
  - George Rex I., ii, 158, 160
  - Gemma I., ii, 71
  - Germaine I., ii, 111
  - Gingillo I., ii, 142
  - Giselle I., ii, 171
  - Helena I., ii, 66
  - Hilda I., ii, 156
  - Hugo I., ii, 120
  - James Dewar I., ii, 172
  - Jessica I., ii, 176
  - Josephine Island, 122
  - Julia I., ii, 70
  - Jupiter I., ii, 126
  - Kuvera I., ii, 172
  - Landor, Charles, I., ii, 96
  - Laurita I., ii, 116
  - Leander I., ii, 263
  - Leda I., ii, 175, 263
  - Lilian I., ii, 118
  - Loel I., ii, 80
  - Lucia I., ii, 115
  - Lucky I., ii, 39, 43
  - Lunghissima I., ii, 155
  - Lydia I., ii, 61
  - Mabel I., ii, 112
  - Magda I., ii, 109
  - Margie I., ii, 112
  - Maria I., ii, 106
  - Mars I., ii, 126
  - Martia I., ii, 107
  - Maude I., ii, 93
  - Maude Adams I., ii, 169
  - May I., ii, 110
  - Medea I., ii, 175
  - Melusine I., ii, 170
  - Meraud I., ii, 80
  - Midas I., ii, 171
  - Minerva I., ii, 169
  - Miranda I., ii, 171
  - Mosquito I., ii, 46
  - Nair I., ii, 105
  - Negrino I., ii, 63
  - Nina I., ii, 114
  - Noailles I., ii, 112
  - Nora I., ii, 120
  - Normand I., ii, 173
  - Olivia I., ii, 133, 161
  - Oriana I., ii, 168
  - Orlando I., ii, 97
  - Pandora I., ii, 134
  - Passos I., ii, 47
  - Passos Junior I., ii, 47
  - Paulina I., ii, 161
  - Pelleas and Melisande Is., ii, 162
  - Pericles I., ii, 149
  - Philomela I., ii, 160
  - Pomona I., ii, 168
  - Portia I., ii, 160
  - Priscilla I., ii, 125
  - Providence I., ii, 114
  - Psyche I., ii, 160
  - Queen Mary I., ii, 171
  - Rebecca I., ii, 103
  - Rhea I., ii, 160
  - Rita I., ii, 110
  - Rock I., ii, 105
  - Rodriguez, J. Carlos I., ii, 117
  - Romeo and Juliet Is., ii, 115
  - Romola I., ii, 156
  - Rosalinda I., ii, 160
  - Rose I., ii, 109
  - Sarah I., ii, 102
  - [501] Schnoor, Luiz, I., ii, 95
  - Seven Sisters Is., ii, 153
  - Sibyl I., ii, 134
  - Sophia I., ii, 142
  - Stella I., ii, 156
  - Susan I., ii, 118
  - Sylvia I., ii, 124
  - Tanis I., ii, 60
  - Teffe I., ii, 108
  - Teresa I., ii, 125
  - Three Graces Is., ii, 113
  - Toledo, Pedro de, I., ii, 44
  - Tristan and Isolde Is., ii, 161
  - Two Sisters Is., 46
  - Una I., ii, 157
  - Urania I., ii, 157
  - Vanessa I., ii, 160
  - Vera I., ii, 93
  - Victor Emmanuel I., ii, 74
  - Yolanda I., ii, 156
- Itaituba, ii, 380
- Itaquatiara, ii, 402, 412

- Jacutinga, ii, 48
- Jaguar, the, i, 184, 307, 316; ii, 315
- Jararakinha I., ii, 390
- Javari River, ii, 417
- Jeckill, Mrs., ii, 404
- Jesuits, i, 414
- Jews, ii, 258, 262
- Jiggers, ii, 338
- Jornal do Commercio, i, 7
- Juliaca junction, ii, 462
- Junction of the Arinos-Juruena and Tres Barras or S. Manoel River, ii, 263
- Juruena River, ii, 149
- Juruena River, meeting-place of with the Arinos River, ii, 149-151

- Krause, Dr., i, 121

- La Merced, ii, 450
- La Paz, ii, 472
- Lage, Mr., ii, 380
- Lagoa dos Veados, i, 413, 415
- Lagoa Formosa, i, 96, 328
- Land, value of, i, 38, 43, 45, 49
- Las Palmas River, ii, 449
- Legislative Congress of Goyaz (State), i, 112
- Leguia, Dr. B. B., President of Peru, ii, 465
- Leopoldina, i, 110
- Leprosy, i, 87
- Leticia, ii, 418
- Lighthouses, ii, 388
- Lima, ii, 456, 458
- Llamas, ii, 453, 456, 461, 463, 473
- Lovelace, Dr. Carl, ii, 404
- Lua Nova, ii, 376
- Lunar halo, i, 199, 328, 333

- Macaws, i, 308; ii, 132, 396, 398
- Macedo, Commandante, ii, 380-391
- Macrocerus hyacinthinus (araruna), ii, 396
- Madeira-Mamore Railway, ii, 402-404
- Madeira River, ii, 277, 347, 411-414
- Magalhães, Couto de, i, 109
- Malampaya Sound, i, 9
- Malan, Father A., i, 309
- Mammals of Brazil (Appendix), 480
- Manaos, ii, 402, 405-411
- Manaos, Commandants of the Federal Troops in, ii, 409, 414, 416
- Manaos, Improvements, Limited, ii, 410
- Mangabeira, the, i, 406
- Mangabel, ii, 374-377
- Manobos, ii, 434
- Maps, i, 116, 414
- Maps, inaccurate, i, 404
- Maribondos (hornets), ii, 194
- Masisea, ii, 430
- Masõ, Dr. Alberto, ii, 408, 416
- Matto Grosso (State of), i, 3
- May, Jeckill & Randolph, Messrs., ii, 403-404
- Maya Indians of Yucatan, ii, 254
- Mazagan, i, 70
- Medicinal plants, i, 152 (Appendix), 477-480
- Minas Geraes, Province of, i, 3
- [502] Minerals, i, 4
- Minister of Marine, ii, 407
- Mirage, ii, 473
- Miranda, Dr. Bertino, ii, 408
- Miriatiriami, ii, 440
- Mitchell, Mr., English Consul at Iquitos, ii, 419
- Mockill, Mr., Chief of Peruvian Corporation, ii, 458, 464
- Mogyana Railway, i, 38-51
- Mollendo, ii, 458
- Monoliths, i, 363, 364
- Mori Brothers, ii, 260
- Mori, Don Eulogio, ii, 367
- Morro da Meza, i, 59
- Mountain sickness, ii, 461
- Mules, i, 140, 389
- Müller, Severiano, i, 7
- Mundurucu Indians, ii, 248, 252, 369
- Mundurucu Indians, vocabulary of the language (Appendix), 486-496

- Nasua socialis (coati), i, 319; ii, 354
- Nasua solitaria (coati), i, 319
- Nazaratec River, ii, 437
- Nery, Julio V., ii, 266, 275, 276, 280, 283
- New York (Ucayalli), ii, 421
- Nunes, Dom Pedro, ii, 343-348

- Obidos, ii, 399
- Oliveira, Regis de, i, 11
- Ollagüe Volcano, ii, 474
- Opisthocomus cristatus (cigana), ii, 132
- Oroya, ii, 454
- Oroya, railway, ii, 454-456
- Oruro, ii, 472, 473, 474

- Pachitea River, ii, 431-435
- Pack-saddles, i, 78
- Palms, i, 5
- Pampas, ii, 445
- Pará chestnut, ii, 207
- Pará Fiscal Agency, ii, 268, 272
- Pará Province of, i, 3
- Paraguay River, birthplace of, i, 414
- Paraguay River, sources of, i, 416
- Parana River, i, 167
- Parana River, birthplace of, i, 414
- Paranahyba River, i, 60
- Paredão Grande, the, i, 292
- Paredãozinho, i, 287
- Parintins, ii, 412
- Passos, Dr. F. Pereira, i, 8
- Pasture lands, i, 6
- Paulista Railway, i, 24
- Paulistas, the, i, 17, 105
- Pedro II., Emperor, i, 100, 109, 134
- Penelope cristata (jacú), ii, 26, 132, 237, 296, 354
- Peruvian Corporation, ii, 458-471
- Peruvian Railway, ii, 458-473
- Philadelphia (Ucayalli), ii, 424
- Photography, ii, 82
- Pichis River, ii, 435-438
- Pinto, Mr., ii, 368
- Pium, i, 173, 300, 302
- Podiceps Americanus (mergulhão commun), ii, 48
- Polvora, the, i, 300
- Pombas Island, ii, 369
- Poopo, Lake, ii, 473-474
- Port Bermudez, ii, 437
- Port Guaqui, ii, 471
- Porto do Castanho, i, 161
- Porto Velho, ii, 1, 20, (Rio Madeira) 403
- Potzuzu, ii, 435
- Pouso Alto, i, 86
- Prado, Antonio, i, 7, 22, 26
- Praia da Rainha, i, 110
- Preguya, the, ii, 432
- Prices of commodities, ii, 259, 372, 410, 424
- Prison of Goyaz, i, 123
- Province of Loreto, Prefect of, ii, 420, 430, 437
- Pueblo Pardo, ii, 449
- Putumayo River, ii, 417

- Raft made of demijohns, ii, 335-341
- Railways, i, 111
- [503] Redemptionist Friars, i, 90, 92
- Reptiles of Brazil (Appendix), 484
- Requeña, ii, 422
- Riberão Preto, i, 38
- Rio Arinos, i, 413, 431; ii, 1-150
- Rio Barreiros or das Garças, i, 195, 196, 206, 264, 265, 284
- Rio Caitté, i, 416
- Rio Canuma, ii, 269, 412
- Rio Capim Branco, i, 335, 337, 346
- Rio Chabo, i, 409
- Rio Chanchamayo, ii, 449
- Rio Claro, i, 149
- Rio Corgo Fundo, i, 194
- Rio Corisho, i, 416
- Rio Crepore, ii, 374
- Rio Cuyaba, i, 359, 402, 404, 405
- Rio das Mortes, i, 116, 350
- Rio dos Patos, ii, 39, 43
- Rio Estivado, i, 416
- Rio Euphrasia, ii, 268
- Rio Grande, i, 46
- Rio Jamanchin, ii, 378
- Rio Jangada, i, 359
- Rio Las Almas, i, 153
- Rio Macucu, i, 417
- Rio Madeira, ii, 127
- Rio Manso, i, 387-389
- Rio Misericordia, ii, 268
- Rio Mollah, i, 416
- Rio Montagna, ii, 377-378
- Rio Paraguay (Paraná), i, 323
- Rio Paraná, i, 349, 411, 415
- Rio Pedra Grande, i, 366, 369
- Rio Ponte Alto, i, 154
- Rio Preto, i, 413
- Rio Roncador, i, 364, 369
- Rio S. Florencio, ii, 268
- Rio S. Lourenço, i, 341, 349
- Rio S. Lourenço, headwaters of, i, 323
- Rio S. Manoel or Tres Barras, i, 403
- Rio S. Thomé, ii, 268
- Rio Secundury, ii, 269, 328, 333, 349, 351
- Rio Sumidoro, ii, 53
- Rio Tapajoz, ii, 269
- Rio Tarma, ii, 452
- Rio Trombetas, ii, 399
- Rio Uruguatos, ii, 218
- Rio Verde, i, 403
- Rio Vermelho, i, 109, 133
- Rio Xingu, i, 403; ii, 127
- Rio Xingu, nearest point to Rio Tapajoz, ii, 379
- Rio de Janeiro, i, 9
- Rock carvings, i, 338
- Rodadeiro or toboggan slide of the Incas, ii, 467
- Rodriguez, José Carlos, i, 7
- Rondon, Col., i, 12
- Ross, Mr., ii, 391
- "Round Table" of the Incas, the, ii, 467
- Royal Mail Steamship Co., i, 9; ii, 476
- Rubber, i, 36; ii, 4, 46, 48, 60, 63, 78, 91, 97, 267, 272, 369, 434
- Rubber, coagulation of the latex, ii, 8
- Rubber, collection of the latex, ii, 6
- Rubber, collectors, i, 424; ii, 1

- S. Antonio, i, 88
- S. Benedicto, Mt., ii, 274, 367
- S. Isabel (Castanho), ii, 373
- S. Jeronimo, ii, 429
- S. Luiz de Caceres, i, 419, 429
- S. Luiz de Shuaro, ii, 449
- S. Manoel, Collectoria of, ii, 264
- S. Manoel, Tres Barras or Paranatinga River, ii, 263
- S. Paulo, i, 16
- S. Paulo, elevation of, i, 23
- S. Paulo, State of, i, 20, 22
- S. Ramon, ii, 451
- Salesian Friars, i, 132, 264, 280, 284, 309
- Salto Benjamin, i, 342
- Salto Floriano Peixoto, i, 342
- Sand-dunes, ii, 459
- Santarem, ii, 385
- Santarem to Belem (Pará), ii, 385-391
- Sauba Ants (Œcodonia cephalotes), ii, 119, 315, 318-320
- Schmidt, Col. (The Coffee King), i, 37
- [504] Schnoor, Luiz, i, 56
- Seringueiros, or rubber collectors, the, i, 424; ii, 1, 22, 250, 258, 272, 273, 276, 361, 369, 371, 379, 411, 428
- Serra Azul, the, i, 399-405, 411
- Serra das Pedra, i, 405
- Serra de Almerin, ii, 387
- Serra de Callos, i, 70, 74
- Serra de Pasco, ii, 435
- Serra de Sta. Rita (or Dourada), i, 96
- Serra do Sappé, i, 77
- Serra do Tombador, i, 419, 429
- Sete Lagõas, i, 413-415, 416
- Sillistayni towers, ii, 471
- Siphonia elastica (Hevea Brasiliensis), or rubber trees, i, 429; ii, 4, 60, 63, 78, 91, 97, 249
- Slavery, i, 423; ii, 11, 19, 22, 40
- Snakes, i, 93; ii, 162, 180
- Snakes of Brazil (Appendix), 485
- Solimões River, ii, 416-418, 421
- Sorveira (milk trees), ii, 10, 105, 288
- Stars, i, 179
- Starvation, ii, 300-345
- Sungaro Paro Mts., ii, 437

- Tabatinga, ii, 418
- Table of comparative anthropometric measurements, i, 261
- Tamandua Bandeira, the, i, 307, 316
- Tambos, ii, 438, 441, 443, 444, 446, 447, 448
- Tapajoz River, ii, 367-385
- Tapanhonas Indians, ii, 70
- Tapiche River, ii, 423
- Tapirus Americanus (Anta), i, 316; ii, 76, 345
- Tarma, ii, 452
- Taxipa I., ii, 390
- Telepathy, ii, 363
- Termites (Termes album), i, 155-158, 348, 431
- Terra Blanca Lake, ii, 426
- Thermal springs, i, 76
- Titicaca Lake, ii, 471, 474
- Tocantins River, i, 110
- Toledo, Pedro de, i, 7, 12, 15
- Trans-Andine Railway, ii, 475
- Troglodytes fuscus, ii, 395
- Tucano, the, i, 164
- Tunnels, ii, 451, 452, 454

- Uancabamba, ii, 435
- Uberaba, i, 48
- Uberabinha, i, 50
- Ucayalli River, ii, 421-431
- Urubu, i, 154
- Useful Plants (Appendix), 477-480

- Valparaiso, ii, 475
- Vampire Indians, ii, 432
- Vastres gigas (pirarucú), ii, 387
- Venus, i, 296; ii, 128
- Vocabularies of Indian languages—Apiacar, Bororo, Campas, Mundurucu (Appendix), 486-496

- Water during long periods of starvation, ii, 309
- Watersheds, i, 96, 349, 355, 414
- Wellman's Balloon, ii, 425
- Wild boar, i, 152
- Wireless telegraphy, ii, 422, 437
- Women of Goyaz, i, 128
- Woods for construction (Appendix), 477-480
- Woods, fibrous (Appendix), 477-480
- Woods, lactiferous (Appendix), 477-480
- Woods, oleaginous (Appendix), 477-480
- Woods, resinous (Appendix), 477-480

- Yanna Yakka River, ii, 425
- Yessup, ii, 438
- Yuta (jute), ii, 425

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