In the Amazon Jungle

 Adventures in Remote Parts of the Upper Amazon River, Including a Sojourn Among Cannibal Indians

 By

 Algot Lange

 Edited in Part by J. Odell Hauser

 With an Introduction by Frederick S. Dellenbaugh

 To

 The Memory of

 My Father

INTRODUCTION

When Mr. Algot Lange told me he was going to the headwaters of theAmazon, I was particularly interested because once, years ago, I hadturned my own mind in that direction with considerable longing. I knewhe would encounter many set-backs, but I never would have predictedthe adventures he actually passed through alive. 

He started in fine spirits: buoyant, strong, vigorous. When I sawhim again in New York, a year or so later, on his return, he wasan emaciated fever-wreck, placing one foot before the other onlywith much exertion and indeed barely able to hold himself erect. Afew weeks in the hospital, followed by a daily diet of quinine, improved his condition, but after months he had scarcely arrived athis previous excellent physical state. 

Many explorers have had experiences similar to those related inthis volume, but, at least so far as the fever and the cannibalsare concerned, they have seldom survived to tell of them. Theirinterviews with cannibals have been generally too painfully confinedto internal affairs to be available in this world for authorship, whereas Mr. Lange, happily, avoided not only a calamitous intimacy, but was even permitted to view the culinary preparations relating tothe absorption of less favoured individuals, and himself could havejoined the feast, had he possessed the stomach for it. 

These good friends of his, the Mangeromas, conserved his life whenthey found him almost dying, not, strange as it may appear, forselfish banqueting purposes, but merely that he might return to hisown people. It seems rather paradoxical that they should have lovedone stranger so well as to spare him with suspicious kindness, andlove others to the extent of making them into table delicacies. Theexplanation probably is that these Mangeromas were the reverse ofa certain foreign youth with only a small stock of English, who, onbeing offered in New York a fruit he had never seen before, replied, "Thank you, I eat only my acquaintances"--the Mangeromas eat onlytheir enemies. 

Mr. Lange's account of his stay with these people, of their weapons, habits, form of battle, and method of cooking the human captives, etc. , forms one of the specially interesting parts of the book, andis at the same time a valuable contribution to the ethnology of thewestern Amazon (or Marañon) region, where dwell numerous similar tribeslittle known to the white man. Particularly notable is his descriptionof the wonderful wourahli (urari) poison, its extraordinary effect, and the _modus operandi_ of its making; a poison used extensivelyby Amazonian tribes but not made by all. He describes also thebows and arrows, the war-clubs, and the very scientific weapon, theblow-gun. He was fortunate in securing a photograph of a Mangeroma inthe act of shooting this gun. Special skill, of course, is necessaryfor the effective use of this simple but terrible arm, and, like thatrequired for the boomerang or lasso, practice begins with childhood. 

The region of Mr. Lange's almost fatal experiences, the region ofthe Javary River (the boundary between Brazil and Peru), is one ofthe most formidable and least known portions of the South Americancontinent. It abounds with obstacles to exploration of the mostoverwhelming kind. Low, swampy, with a heavy rainfall, it is inundatedannually, like most of the Amazon basin, and at time of high waterthe rivers know no limits. Lying, as it does, so near the equator, the heat is intense and constant, oppressive even to the native. Theforest-growth--and it is forest wherever it is not river--is forcedas in a huge hothouse, and is so dense as to render progress throughit extremely difficult. Not only are there obstructions in the way oftree trunks, underbrush, and trailing vines and creepers like ropes, but the footing is nothing more than a mat of interlaced roots. Theforest is also sombre and gloomy. To take a photograph required anexposure of from three to five minutes. Not a stone, not even a pebble, is anywhere to be found. 

Disease is rampant, especially on the smaller branches of therivers. The incurable _beri-beri_ and a large assortment of feversclaim first place as death dealers, smiting the traveller with fearfulfacility. Next come a myriad of insects and reptiles--alligators, huge bird-eating spiders, and snakes of many varieties. Snakes, both the poisonous and non-poisonous kinds, find here conditionsprecisely to their liking. The bush-master is met with in the moreopen places, and there are many that are venomous, but the mostterrifying, though not a biting reptile is the water-boa, the sucurujú(_Eunectes murinus_) or anaconda. It lives to a great age and reachesa size almost beyond belief. Feeding, as generally it does at night, it escapes common observation, and white men, heretofore, have notseen the largest specimens reported, though more than thirty feet isan accepted length, and Bates, the English naturalist, mentions onehe heard of, forty-two feet long. It is not surprising that Mr. Langeshould have met with one in the far wilderness he visited, of evengreater proportions, a hideous monster, ranking in its huge bulk withthe giant beasts of antediluvian times. The sucurujú is said to beable to swallow whole animals as large as a goat or a donkey, or evenlarger, and the naturalist referred to tells of a ten-year-old boy, son of his neighbour, who, left to mind a canoe while his father wentinto the forest, was, in broad day, playing in the shade of the trees, stealthily enwrapped by one of the monsters. His cries brought hisfather to the rescue just in time. 

As the Javary heads near the eastern slopes and spurs of the greatPeruvian Cordillera, where once lived the powerful and wealthy Incarace with their great stores of pure gold obtained from prolific minesknown to them, it is again not surprising that Mr. Lange should havestumbled upon a marvellously rich deposit of the precious metal ina singular form. The geology of the region is unknown and the originof the gold Mr. Lange found cannot at present even be surmised. 

Because of the immense value of the rubber product, gold attracts lessattention than it would in some other country. The rubber industryis extensive and thousands of the wild rubber trees are located andtapped. The trees usually are found near streams and the search forthem leads the rubber-hunter farther and farther into the unbrokenwilderness. Expeditions from time to time are sent out by richowners of rubber "estates" to explore for fresh trees, and afterhis sojourn at Remate de Males and Floresta, so full of interest, Mr. Lange accompanied one of these parties into the unknown, withthe extraordinary results described so simply yet dramatically inthe following pages, which I commend most cordially, both to theexperienced explorer and to the stay-by-the-fire, as an unusual andexciting story of adventure. 

FREDERICK S. DELLENBAUGH. 

NEW YORK, November 24, 1911. 

PREFACE

It is difficult, if not impossible, to find a more hospitable andgenerous nation than the Brazilian. The recollection of my trip throughthe wilds of Amazonas lingers in all its details, and although myexperiences were not always of a pleasant character, yet the goodtreatment and warm reception accorded me make me feel the deepestsense of gratitude to the Brazilians, whose generosity will alwaysabide in my memory. 

There is in the Brazilian language a word that better than anyother describes the feeling with which one remembers a sojournin Brazil. This word, _saudades_, is charged with an abundance ofsentiment, and, though a literal translation of it is difficult toarrive at, its meaning approaches "sweet memories of bygone days. "

Although a limitation of space forbids my expressing in full myobligation to all those who treated me kindly, I must not omit to statemy special indebtedness to three persons, without whose invaluableassistance and co-operation I would not have been able to completethis book. 

First of all, my thanks are due to the worthy Colonel Rosendo da Silva, owner of the rubber estate Floresta on the Itecoahy River. Throughhis generosity and his interest, I was enabled to study the work andthe life conditions of the rubber workers, the employees on his estate. 

The equally generous but slightly less civilised Benjamin, highpotentate of the tribe of Mangeroma cannibals, is the second to whom Iwish to express my extreme gratitude, although my obligations to himare of a slightly different character: in the first place, becausehe did not order me to be killed and served up, well or medium done, to suit his fancy (which he had a perfect right to do); and, in thesecond place, because he took a great deal of interest in my personalwelfare and bestowed all the strange favours upon me that are recordedin this book. He opened my eyes to things which, at the time and underthe circumstances, did not impress me much, but which, nevertheless, convinced me that, even at this late period of the world's history, our earth has not been reduced to a dead level of drab and commonplaceexistence, and that somewhere in the remote parts of the world arestill to be found people who have never seen or heard of white men. 

Last, but not least, I wish to express my deep obligation to myvalued friend, Frederick S. Dellenbaugh, who, through his helpfulsuggestions, made prior to my departure, contributed essentially tothe final success of this enterprise, and whose friendly assistancehas been called into requisition and unstintingly given in the courseof the preparation of this volume. 

A. L. 

NEW YORK, January, 1912. 

CONTENTS

 Chapter

 I Remate de Males, or "Culmination of Evils" II The Social and Political Life of Remate de Males III Other Incidents During My Stay in Remate de Males IV The Journey up the Itecoahy River V Floresta: Life Among the Rubber-Workers VI The Fatal March Through the Forest VII The Fatal "Tambo No. 9" VIII What Happened in the Forest IX Among the Cannibal Mangeromas X The Fight Between the Mangeromas and the Peruvians Index

ILLUSTRATIONS

 A Little Village Built on Poles The Javary River The Mouth of the Itecoahy River Nazareth Trader's Store Remate de Males or "Culmination of Evils" The Street in Remate de Males General View of Remate de Males Sunset on the Itecoahy River An Ant Nest in a Tree The Launch "Carolina" The Banks of the Itecoahy The Mouth of the Ituhy River The Toucan The Banks of the Itecoahy River Clearing the Jungle Urubus "Nova Aurora" "Defumador" or Smoking Hut Matamata Tree The Urucu Plant The Author in the Jungle The Mouth of the Branco Branding Rubber on the Sand-Bar The Landing at Floresta The Banks at Floresta A General View of Floresta Morning Coronel Rosendo da Silva Chief Marques Interior of A Rubber-Worker's Hut João The Murumuru Palm A "Seringueiro" Tapping a Rubber Tree Smoking the Rubber-Milk Forest Interior A Fig-Tree Completely Overgrown with Orchids Chico, The Monkey Turtle Eggs on the Sand-Bank The Pirarucu The Last Resting-Place of the Rubber-Workers "Seringueiros" João Floresta Creek Lake Innocence Alligator from Lake Innocence Another Alligator from Lake Innocence Rubber-Workers' Home near Lake Innocence Harpooning a Large Sting-Ray Shooting Fish on Lake Innocence The Pirarucu Amazonian Game-Fish The Track of the Anaconda--The Sucuruju The Paca Rubber-Worker Perreira and Wife in their Sunday Clothes A "New Home" Sewing-Machine in an Indian Hut The Remarkable Pachiuba Palm-Tree Kitchen Interior The Beginning of the Fatal Expedition A Halt in the Forest Jungle Scenery Forest Creek Top of Hill Page Marsh-Deer and Mutum-Bird Jungle Darkness Creek in the Unknown Eating our Broiled Monkey at Tambo No. 5 Hunting The Fatal Tambo No. 9 A Photograph of the Author The Front View of Tambo No. 9 Caoutchouc Process No. 1 Caoutchouc Process No. 2 Caoutchouc Process No. 3 Creek Near Tambo No. 9 The Author's Working Table at Tambo No. 9 Forest Scenery Near Tambo No. 9 Our Parting Breakfast Mangeroma Vase 399

CHAPTER I

REMATE DE MALES, OR "CULMINATION OF EVILS"

My eyes rested long upon the graceful white-painted hull of theR. M. S. _Manco_ as she disappeared behind a bend of the Amazon River, more than 2200 miles from the Atlantic Ocean. After 47 days ofcontinuous travel aboard of her, I was at last standing on theBrazilian frontier, watching the steamer's plume of smoke stillhanging lazily over the immense, brooding forests. More than a plumeof smoke it was to me then; it was the final link that bound me tothe outside world of civilisation. At last it disappeared. I turnedand waded through the mud up to a small wooden hut built on poles. 

It was the end of January, 1910, that saw me approaching this house, built on Brazilian terra firma--or rather terra aqua, for water wasinundating the entire land. I had behind me the Amazon itself, and tothe right the Javary River, while the little house that I was headingfor was Esperança, the official frontier station of Brazil. Theopposite shore was Peru and presented an unbroken range of dense, swampy forest, grand but desolate to look upon. 

A middle-aged man in uniform came towards me and greeted me cordially, in fact embraced me, and, ordering a servant to pull my baggage outof the water, led me up a ladder into the house. I told him thatI intended to go up the Javary River, to a place called Remate deMales, where I would live with a medical friend of mine, whereuponhe informed me that a launch was due this same night, which wouldimmediately proceed to my proposed destination. Later in the eveningthe launch came and I embarked after being once more embraced by thecourteous Cor. Monteiro, the frontier official. The captain of thissmall trading launch was an equally hospitable and courteous man; heinvited me into his cabin and tried to explain that this river, andthe town in particular, where we were going, was a most unhealthy andforbidding place, especially for a foreigner, but he added cheerfullythat he knew of one white man, an Englishman, who had succeeded inliving for several years on the Javary without being killed by thefever, but incidentally had drank himself to death. 

The night was very dark and damp, and I did not see much of the passingscenery; a towering black wall of trees was my total impressionduring the journey. However, I managed at length to fall asleep onsome coffee-bags near the engine and did not wake till the launchwas exhausting its steam supply through its whistle. 

My next impression was that of a low river bank fringed with dirtyhouses lighted by candles. People were sitting in hammocks smokingcigarettes, dogs were barking incessantly, and frogs and crickets weremaking a deafening noise when I walked up the main and only streetof this little town, which was to be my headquarters for many monthsto come. 

After some inquiry, I finally found my friend, Dr. M----, sitting ina dark, dismal room in the so-called _Hotel Agosto_. With a gracefulmotion of his hand he pointed to a chair of ancient structure, indicating that having now travelled so many thousand miles to reachthis glorious place, I was entitled to sit down and let repose overtakeme. Indeed, I was in Remate de Males. 

Never shall I forget that first night's experience with mosquitoes andants. Besides this my debut in a hammock for a bed was a pronouncedfailure, until a merciful sleep temporarily took me from the sadrealities. 

Remate de Males lies just where a step farther would plunge one intoan unmapped country. It is a little village built on poles; the last"blaze" of civilisation on the trail of the upper river. When therainy winter season drives out of the forests every living creaturethat can not take refuge in the trees, the rubber-workers abandonthe crude stages of the manufacture that they carry on there andgather in the village to make the best of what life has to offer themin this region. At such times the population rises to the number ofsome 500 souls, for the most part Brazilians and domesticated Indiansor _caboclos_. 

Nothing could better summarise the attractions (!) of the place thanthe name which has become fixed upon it. Translated into English thismeans "Culmination of Evils, " Remate de Males. 

Some thirty years ago, a prospector with his family and servants, in all about a score, arrived at this spot near the junction of theJavary and the Itecoahy rivers, close to the equator. They came bythe only possible highway, the river, and decided to settle. Soon theinfinite variety of destroyers of human life that abound on the upperAmazon began their work on the little household, reducing its numberto four and threatening to wipe it out altogether. But the prospectorstuck to it and eventually succeeded in giving mankind a firm holdon this wilderness. In memory of what he and succeeding settlers wentthrough, the village received its cynically descriptive name. 

Remate de Males, separated by weeks and weeks of journey by boatfrom the nearest spot of comparative civilisation down the river, has grown wonderfully since its pioneer days. Dismal as one findsit to be, if I can give an adequate description in these pages, itwill be pronounced a monument to man's nature-conquering instincts, and ability. Surely no pioneers ever had a harder battle than theseBrazilians, standing with one foot in "the white man's grave, " as theJavary region is called in South America, while they faced innumerabledangers. The markets of the world need rubber, and the supplying ofthis gives them each year a few months' work in the forests at veryhigh wages. I always try to remember these facts when I am tempted toharshly judge Remate de Males according to our standards; moreover, Ican never look upon the place quite as an outsider. I formed pleasantfriendships there and entered into the lives of many of its people, so I shall always think of it with affection. The village is placedwhere the Itecoahy runs at right angles into the Javary, the right-handbank of the Itecoahy forming at once its main and its only street. Thehouses stand facing this street, all very primitive and all elevatedon palm-trunk poles as far as possible above the usual high-watermark of the river. Everything, from the little sheet-iron churchto the pig-sty, is built on poles. Indeed, if there is anything inthe theory of evolution, it will not be many generations before theinhabitants and domestic animals are born equipped with stilts. 

Opposite Remate de Males, across the Itecoahy, is a collection ofsome ten huts that form the village of São Francisco, while acrossthe Javary is the somewhat larger village of Nazareth. Like every realmetropolis, you see, Remate de Males has its suburbs. Nazareth is inPeruvian territory, the Javary forming the boundary between Brazil andPeru throughout its length of some 700 miles. This same boundary lineis a source of amusing punctiliousness between the officials of eachcountry. To cross it is an affair requiring the exercise of the limitsof statesmanship. I well remember an incident that occurred during mystay in the village. A sojourner in our town, an Indian rubber-workerfrom the Ituhy River, had murdered a woman by strangling her. Heescaped in a canoe to Nazareth before the Brazilian officials couldcapture him, and calmly took refuge on the porch of a house there, where he sat down in a hammock and commenced to smoke cigarettes, feeling confident that his pursuers would not invade Peruvian soil. Butlocal diplomacy was equal to the emergency. Our officials went to theshore opposite Nazareth, and, hiding behind the trees, endeavoured topick off their man with their . 44 Winchesters, reasoning that thoughtheir crossing would be an international incident, no one couldobject to a bullet's crossing. Their poor aim was the weak spot inthe plan. After a few vain shots had rattled against the sheet-ironwalls of the house where the fugitive was sitting, he got up from amonghis friends and lost himself in the jungle, never to be heard of again. 

About sixty-five houses, lining the bank of the Itecoahy River over adistance of what would be perhaps six blocks in New York City, make upRemate de Males. They are close together and each has a ladder reachingfrom the street to the main and only floor. At the bottom of everyladder appears a rudimentary pavement, probably five square feet inarea and consisting of fifty or sixty whiskey and gin bottles placedwith their necks downwards. Thus in the rainy season when the watercovers the street to a height of seven feet, the ladders always havea solid foundation. The floors consist of split palm logs laid withthe round side up. Palm leaves form the roofs, and rusty corrugatedsheet-iron, for the most part, the walls. Each house has a sort ofbackyard and kitchen, also on stilts and reached by a bridge. 

Through the roofs and rafters gambol all sorts of wretchedpests. Underneath the houses roam pigs, goats, and other domesticanimals, which sometimes appear in closer proximity than might bewished, owing to the spaces between the logs of the floor. That isin the dry season. In the winter, or the wet season, these animalsare moved into the houses with you, and their places underneath areoccupied by river creatures, alligators, water-snakes, and malignant, repulsive fish, of which persons outside South America know nothing. 

Near the centre of the village is the "sky-scraper, " the _Hotelde Augusto_, which boasts a story and a quarter in height. Fartheralong are the _Intendencia_, or Government building, painted blue, the post-office yellow, the _Recreio Popular_ pink; beyond, theresidence of Mons. Danon, the plutocrat of the village, and farther"downtown" the church, unpainted. Do not try to picture any of theseplaces from familiar structures. They are all most unpretentious;their main point of difference architecturally from the rest of thevillage consists in more utterly neglected façades. 

The post-office and the meteorological observatory, in one dilapidatedhouse, presided over by a single self-important official, deservedescription here. The postmaster himself is a pajama-clad gentleman, whose appearance is calculated to strike terror to the souls ofhumble _seringueiros_, or rubber-workers, who apply for lettersonly at long intervals. On each of these occasions I would see thisimportant gentleman, who had the word _coronel_ prefixed to his name, João Silva de Costa Cabral, throw up his hands, in utter despair atbeing disturbed, and slowly proceed to his desk from which he wouldproduce the letters. With great pride this "Pooh-Bah" had a large signpainted over the door. The post-office over which he presides is by nomeans overworked, as only one steamer arrives every five weeks, or so, but still he has the appearance of being "driven. " But when he fussesaround his "_Observatorio meteorologico_, " which consists of a maximumand minimum thermometer and a pluviometer, in a tightly closed box, raised above the ground on a tall pole, then indeed, his air wouldimpress even the most blasé town-sport. I was in the village whenthis observatory was installed, and after it had been running abouta week, the mighty official called on me and asked me confidentiallyif I would not look the observatory over and see if it was all right. 

My examination showed that the thermometers were screwed on tight, which accounted for the amazingly uniform readings shown on hischart. The pluviometer was inside the box, and therefore it would havebeen difficult to convince scientists that the clouds had not entirelyskipped Remate de Males during the rainy season, unless the postmasterwere to put the whole observatory under water by main force. He alsohad a chart showing the distribution of clouds on each day of theyear. I noticed that the letter "N" occupied a suspiciously largepercentage of the space on the chart, and when I asked him for themeaning of this he said that "N"--which in meteorological abbreviationmeans Nimbus--stood for "_None_" (in Portuguese _Não_). And he thoughtthat he must be right because it was the rainy season. 

The hotel, in which I passed several months as a guest, untilI finally decided to rent a hut for myself, had points about itwhich outdid anything that I have ever seen or heard of in comicpapers about "summer boarding. " The most noticeable feature was thequarter-of-a-story higher than any other house in the village. Whilethis meant a lead as to quantity I could never see that it representedanything in actual quality. I would not have ventured up the ladderwhich gave access to the extra story without my Winchester in hand, and during the time I was there I never saw anyone else do so. Theplace was nominally a store-house, but having gone undisturbed forlong periods it was an ideal sanctuary for hordes of vermin--andthese the vermin of the Amazon, dangerous, poisonous, not merely theannoying species we know. Rats were there in abundance, also deadlyscolopendra and centipedes; and large bird-eating spiders were dailyseen promenading up and down the sheet-iron walls. 

On the main floor the building had two large rooms across the centre, one on the front and one on the rear. At each side were four smallrooms. The large front-room was used as a dining-room and had twobroad tables of planed palm trunks. The side-rooms were bedrooms, generally speaking, though most of the time I was there some wereused for stabling the pigs and goats, which had to be taken in owingto the rainy season. 

It is a simple matter to keep a hotel on the upper Amazon. Each roomin the _Hotel de Augusto_ was neatly and chastely furnished witha pair of iron hooks from which to hang the hammock, an articleone had to provide himself. There was nothing in the room besidesthe hooks. No complete privacy was possible because the corrugatedsheet-iron partitions forming the walls did not extend to the roof. Thefloors were sections of palm trees, with the flat side down, makinga succession of ridges with open spaces of about an inch between, through which the ground or the water, according to the season, wasvisible. The meals were of the usual monotonous fare typical of theregion. Food is imported at an enormous cost to this remote place, since there is absolutely no local agriculture. Even sugar and rice, for instance, which are among the important products of Brazil, can be had in New York for about one-tenth of what the natives payfor them in Remate de Males. A can of condensed milk, made to sellin America for eight or nine cents, brings sixty cents on the upperAmazon, and preserved butter costs $1. 20 a pound. 

The following prices which I have had to pay during the wet seasonin this town will, doubtless, be of interest:

 One box of sardines $ 1. 20 One pound of unrefined sugar . 30 One roll of tobacco (16 pounds) 21. 30 One basket of farinha retails in Para for $4. 50 13. 30 One bottle of ginger ale . 60 One pound of potatoes . 60 Calico with stamped pattern, pr. Yd. . 90 One Collins machete, N. Y. Price, $1. 00 12. 00 One pair of men's shoes 11. 00 One bottle of very plain port wine, 22, 000 reis or 7. 30

Under such circumstances, of course, the food supply is verypoor. Except for a few dried cereals and staples, nothing is usedbut canned goods; the instances where small domestic animals areslaughtered are so few as to be negligible. Furthermore, as a rule, these very animals are converted into jerked meat to be kept for monthsand months. Some fish are taken from the river, but the Amazon fishare none too palatable generally speaking, with a few exceptions;besides, the natives are not skilful enough to prepare them to suita civilised palate. 

A typical, well provided table on the Amazon would afford dry farinhain the first place. This is the granulated root of the Macacheiraplant, the _Jatropha manihot_, which to our palates would seem likedesiccated sawdust, although it appears to be a necessity for theBrazilian. He pours it on his meat, into his soup, and even into hiswine and jams. Next you would have a black bean, which for us lacksflavour even as much as the farinha. With this there would probably berice, and on special occasions jerked beef, a product as tender andsucculent as the sole of a riding boot. Great quantities of coffeeare drunk, made very thick and prepared without milk or sugar. Allthese dishes are served at once, so that they promptly get cold andare even more tasteless before their turn comes to be devoured. 

For five months I experienced this torturing menu at the hotel withnever-ceasing regularity. The only change I ever noticed was on Sundaysor days of feast when beans might occupy the other end of the table. 

But what can the Brazilians do? The cost of living is about ten timesas high as in New York. Agriculture is impossible in the regionswhere the land is flooded annually, and the difficulties of shippingare enormous. When I left the hotel and started housekeeping on myown account, I found that I could not do a great deal better. Byspecialising on one thing at a time I avoided monotony to someextent, but then it was probably only because I was a "new broom"at the business. 

As illustrating the community life that we enjoyed at the hotel, I will relate a happening that I have set down in my notes asan instance of the great mortality of this region. One afternoona woman's three-months-old child was suddenly taken ill. The childgrew worse rapidly and the mother finally decided that it was goingto die. Her husband was up the river on the rubber estates and shedid not want to be left alone. So she came to the hotel with thechild and besought them to let her in. The infant was placed in ahammock where it lay crying pitifully. At last the wailings of thepoor little creature became less frequent and the child died. 

Before the body was quite cold the mother and the landlady commencedclearing a table in the dining-room. I looked at this performancein astonishment because it was now evident that they were going toprepare a "_lit de parade_" there, close to the tables where ourmeals were served. The body was then brought in, dressed in a whiterobe adorned with pink, yellow, and sky-blue silk ribbons. Looseleaves and branches were scattered over the little emaciated body, care being taken not to conceal any of the fancy silk ribbons. Emptywhiskey and gin bottles were placed around the bier, a candle stuckin the mouth of each bottle, and then the whole thing was lighted up. 

It was now getting dark fast, and as the doors were wide open, a great crowd was soon attracted by the brilliant display. All the"400" of the little rubber town seemed to pour in a steady stream intothe dining-room. It was a new experience, even in this hotel whereI had eaten with water up to my knees, to take a meal with a funeralgoing on three feet away. We had to partake of our food with the bodyclose by and the candle smoke blowing in our faces, adding more localcolour to our jerked beef and beans than was desirable. More and morepeople came in to pay their respects to the child that hardly anyone had known while it was alive. Through it all the mother sat ona trunk in a corner peacefully smoking her pipe, evidently proud ofthe celebration that was going on in honour of her deceased offspring. 

The kitchen boy brought in a large tray with cups of steaming coffee;biscuits also were carried around to the spectators who sat againstthe wall on wooden boxes. The women seemed to get the most enjoymentout of the mourning; drinking black coffee, smoking their pipes, andpaying little attention to the cause of their being there, only toohappy to have an official occasion to show off their finest skirts. Themen had assembled around the other table, which had been cleared inthe meantime, and they soon sent the boy out for whiskey and beer, passing away the time playing cards. 

I modestly inquired how long this feast was going to last, becausemy room adjoined the dining-room and was separated only by a thinsheet-iron partition open at the top. The landlady, with a happy smile, informed me that the mourning would continue till the early hours, when a launch would arrive to transport the deceased and the gueststo the cemetery. This was about four miles down the Javary River andwas a lonely, half-submerged spot. 

There was nothing for me to do but submit and make the best of it. Allnight the mourners went on, the women drinking black coffee, while themen gambled and drank whiskey in great quantities, the empty bottlesbeing employed immediately as additional candlesticks. Towards morning, due to their heroic efforts, a multitude of bottles totally obliteratedthe "_lit de parade_" from view. I managed to fall asleep completelyexhausted when the guests finally went off at nine o'clock. Thedoctor diagnosed the case of the dead child as chronic indigestion, the result of the mother's feeding a three-months-old infant on jerkedbeef and black beans. 

Life in the hotel during the rainy season is variegated. I have spokenof having eaten a meal with water up to my knees. That happened oftenduring the weeks when the river was at its highest level. Once whenwe were having our noon-day meal during the extreme high-water perioda man came paddling his canoe in at the open door, sailed past us, splashing a little water on the table as he did so, and navigatedthrough to the back room where he delivered some supplies. 

During this feat everybody displayed the cheerful and courteousdisposition usual to the Brazilians. At this season you mustwear wading boots to eat a meal or do anything else about thehouse. Sleeping is somewhat easier as the hammocks are suspended aboutthree feet above the level of the water, but an involuntary plungeis a thing not entirely unknown to an amateur sleeping in a hammock;I know this from personal experience. 

Every morning the butcher comes to the village between five andsix o'clock and sharpens his knife while he awaits calls for hisministrations. He is an undersized man with very broad shoulders anda face remarkable for its cunning, cruel expression. His olive-browncomplexion, slanting eyes, high cheek-bones, and sharp-filed teethare all signs of his coming from the great unknown interior. Hisbusiness here is to slaughter the cattle of the town. He does thisdeftly by thrusting a long-bladed knife into the neck of the animalat the base of the brain, until it severs the medulla, whereuponthe animal collapses without any visible sign of suffering. It isthen skinned and the intestines thrown into the water where theyare immediately devoured by a small but voracious fish called the_candiroo-escrivão_. This whole operation is carried on inside thehouse, in the back-room, as long as the land is flooded. 

It must be remembered that during the rainy season an area equal insize to about a third of the United States is entirely submerged. Thereis a network of rivers that eventually find their way into the Amazonand the land between is completely inundated. In all this immenseterritory there are only a few spots of sufficient elevation to beleft high and dry. Remate de Males, as I have explained, is at thejunction of the Itecoahy and the Javary rivers, the latter 700 milesin length, and thirty miles or so below the village the Javary joinsthe Amazon proper, or Solimoés as it is called here. Thus we are inthe heart of the submerged region. When I first arrived in February, 1910, I found the river still confined to its channel, with the waterabout ten feet below the level of the street. A few weeks later itwas impossible to take a single step on dry land anywhere. 

The water that drives the rubber-workers out of the forests also drivesall animal life to safety. Some of the creatures seek refuge in thevillage. I remember that we once had a huge alligator take temporarylodgings in the backyard of the hotel after he had travelled no oneknows how many miles through the inundated forest. At all hours wecould hear him making excursions under the house to snatch refusethrown from the kitchen, but we always knew he would have welcomedmore eagerly a member of the household who might drop his way. 

And now a few words about the people who lived under the conditionsI have described, and who keep up the struggle even though, as theythemselves have put it, "each ton of rubber costs a human life. "

In the first place I must correct any erroneous impression as toneatness that may have been formed by my remarks about the animalsbeing kept in the dwellings during the rainy season. The Braziliansare scrupulous about their personal cleanliness, and in fact, gothrough difficulties to secure a bath which might well discouragemore civilised folk. 

No one would dream, for an instant, of immersing himself in therivers. In nine cases out of ten it would amount to suicide to doso, and the natives have bathhouses along the shores; more literallybathhouses than ours, for their baths are actually taken in them. Theyare just as careful about clothing being aired and clean. Indeed, themain item of the Brazilian woman's housekeeping is the washing. Thecooking is rather happy-go-lucky; and there is no use cleaning andpolishing iron walls; they get rusty anyhow. 

The people are all occupied with the rubber industry and the townowes its existence to the economic necessity of having here a shippingand trading point for the product. The rubber is gathered farther upalong the shores of the Javary and the Itecoahy and is transportedby launch and canoe to Remate de Males. Here it is shipped directlyor sold to travelling dealers who send it down to Manaos or Para viathe boat of the Amazon Steam Navigation Co. , which comes up duringthe rainy season. Thence it goes to the ports of the world. 

The rubber-worker is a well paid labourer even though he belongs tothe unskilled class. The tapping of the rubber trees and the smoking ofthe milk pays from eight to ten dollars a day in American gold. This, to him, of course, is riches and the men labour here in order that theymay go back to their own province as wealthy men. Nothing else willyield this return; the land is not used for other products. It is hardto see how agriculture or cattle-raising could be carried on in thisregion, and, if they could, they would certainly not return more thanone fourth or one fifth of what the rubber industry does. The owners ofthe great rubber estates, or _seringales_, are enormously wealthy men. 

There are fewer women than men in Remate de Males, and none of theformer is beautiful. They are for the most part Indians or Braziliansfrom the province of Ceara, with very dark skin, hair, and eyes, andteeth filed like shark's teeth. They go barefooted, as a rule. Hereyou will find all the incongruities typical of a race taking thefirst step in civilisation. The women show in their dress how thewell-paid men lavish on them the extravagances that appeal to thelingering savage left in their simple natures. 

Women, who have spent most of their isolated lives in utterlyuncivilised surroundings, will suddenly be brought into a communitywhere other women are found, and immediately the instinct ofself-adornment is brought into full play. Each of them falls underthe sway of "Dame Fashion"--for there are the _latest things_, evenon the upper Amazon. Screaming colours are favoured; a red skirt withgreen stars was considered at one time the height of fashion, until aninventive woman discovered that yellow dots could also be worked in. Inaddition to these dresses, the women will squander money on elegantpatent-leather French slippers (with which they generally neglect towear stockings), and use silk handkerchiefs perfumed with the finestParisian eau de Cologne, bought at a cost of from fourteen to fifteendollars a bottle. Arrayed in all her glory on some gala occasion, the whole effect enhanced by the use of a short pipe from which sheblows volumes of smoke, the woman of Remate de Males is a unique sight. 

CHAPTER II

THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL LIFE OF REMATE DE MALES

The social life of the town is in about the same stage of developmentas it must have been during the Stone Age. When darkness falls over thevillage, as it does at six o'clock all the year round, life practicallystops, and a few hours afterwards everyone is in his hammock. 

There is one resort where the town-sports come to spend theirevenings, the so-called _Recreio Popular_. Its principal patrons are_seringueiros_, or rubber-workers, who have large rolls of money thatthey are anxious to spend with the least possible effort, and generallyget their desire over the gaming boards. The place is furnished witha billiard table and a gramophone with three badly worn records. Thebilliard table is in constant use by a certain element up to midnight, and so are the three eternal records of the gramophone. It will takeme years surrounded by the comforts of civilisation to get those threefrightful tunes out of my head, and I do not see how they could failto drive even the hardened _seringueiros_ to an early grave. 

Another resort close by, where the native _cachassa_ is sold, ispatronised principally by negroes and half-breeds. Here they playthe guitar, in combination with a home-made instrument resemblinga mandolin, as accompaniment to a monotonous native song, whichis kept up for hours. With the exception of these two places, thevillage does not furnish any life or local colour after nightfall, the natives spending their time around the mis-treated gramophones, which are found in almost every hut. 

The men of the village, unlike the women, are not picturesquein appearance. The officials are well paid, so is everyone else, yet they never think of spending money to improve the looks of thevillage or even their own. Most of them are ragged. A few exhibit aninadequate elegance, dressed in white suits, derby hats, and veryhigh collars. But in spite of the seeming poverty, there is not a_seringueiro_ who could not at a moment's notice produce a handful ofbills that would strike envy to the heart of many prosperous businessmen of civilisation. The amount will often run into millions of reis;a sum that may take away the breath of a stranger who does not knowthat one thousand of these Brazilian reis make but thirty cents inour money. 

The people of the Amazon love to gamble. One night three merchantsand a village official came to the hotel to play cards. They gatheredaround the dining-room table at eight o'clock, ordered a case ofPabst beer, which sells, by the way, at four dollars and sixty centsa bottle in American gold, and several boxes of our National BiscuitCompany's products, and then began on a game, which resembles ourpoker. They played till midnight, when they took a recess of halfan hour, during which large quantities of the warm beer and manycrackers were consumed. Then, properly nourished, they resumed thegame, which lasted until six o'clock the next morning. This was afair example of the gambling that went on. 

The stakes were high enough to do honours to the fashionable gamblersof New York, but there was never the slightest sign of excitement. Atfirst I used to expect that surely the card table would bring forth allsorts of flashes of tropic temperament--even a shooting or stabbingaffair. But the composure was always perfect. I have seen a loserpay, without so much as a regretful remark, the sum of three millionand a half reis, which, though only $1050 in our money, is still aconsiderable sum for a labourer to lose. 

Once a month a launch comes down from Iquitos in Peru, about fivedays' journey up the Amazon. This launch is sent out by Iquitosmerchants, to supply the wants of settlers of the rubber estates onthe various affluents. It is hard to estimate what suffering wouldresult if these launches should be prevented from reaching theirdestinations, for the people are absolutely dependent upon them, the region being non-producing, as I have said, and the suppliesvery closely calculated. In Remate de Males, the superintendent, orthe mayor of the town, generally owns a few head of cattle broughtby steamer, and when these are consumed no meat can be had in theregion but Swift's canned "Corned Beef. "

Then there are the steamers from the outer world. During the rainyseason, the _Mauretania_ could get up to Remate de Males fromthe Atlantic Ocean without difficulty, though there is no heavynavigation on the upper Javary River. But steamers go up the Amazonproper several days' journey farther. You can at the present get athrough steamer from Iquitos in Peru down the Amazon to New York. 

These boats occasionally bring immigrants from the eastern portions ofBrazil, where they have heard of the fortunes to be made in working therubber, and who have come, just as our prospectors came into the West, hoping to take gold and their lives back with them. Besides passengers, these boats carry cattle and merchandise and transport the preciousrubber back to Para and Manaos. They are welcomed enthusiastically. Assoon as they are sighted, every man in town takes his Winchester downfrom the wall and runs into the street to empty the magazine as manytimes as he feels that he can afford in his exuberance of feeling atthe prospect of getting mail from home and fresh food supplies. 

On some occasions, marked with a red letter on the calendar, canoesmay be seen coming down the Itecoahy River, decorated with leavesand burning candles galore. They are filled with enthusiasts who aresetting off fireworks and shouting with delight. They are devotees ofsome up-river saint, who are taking this conventional way of payingthe headquarters a visit. 

The priest, who occupies himself with saving the hardened souls ofthe rubber-workers, is a worthy-looking man, who wears a dark-browncassock, confined at the waist with a rope. He is considered thechampion drinker of Remate de Males. The church is one of the neatestbuildings in the town, though this may be because it is so small asto hold only about twenty-five people. It is devoid of any articleof decoration, but outside is a white-washed wooden cross on whosefoundation candles are burned, when there is illness in some family, or the local patron saint's influence is sought on such a problem asgetting a job. The religion is, of course, Catholic, but, as in everycase where isolation from the source occurs, the natives have graftedlocal influences into their faith, until the result is a Catholicismdifferent from the one we know. 

The administration of the town is in the hands of the superintendent, who is a Federal officer not elected by the villagers. His power ispractically absolute as far as this community is concerned. Underhim are a number of Government officials, all of whom are extremelywell paid and whose duty seems to consist in being on hand promptlywhen the salaries are paid. 

The chief of police is a man of very prepossessing appearance, butwith a slightly discoloured nose. His appointment reminded me of thatof Sir Joseph Porter, K. C. B. , in _Pinafore_, who was made "ruler ofthe Queen's navee" in spite of a very slight acquaintance with thingsnautical. Our chief of police had been _chef d' orchestre_ of themilitary band of Manaos. They found there that his bibulous habitswere causing his nose to blush more and more, so he was given theposition of Chief of Police of Remate de Males. It must be admittedthat in his new position he has gone on developing the virtue thatsecured it for him, so there is no telling how high he may rise. 

The police force consists of one man, and a very versatile one, as will be seen, for he is also the rank and file of the militaryforce. I saw this remarkable official only once. At that time he wasin a sad condition from over-indulgence in alcoholic beverages. Thereare exact statistics of comparison available for the police andmilitary forces. The former is just two-thirds of the latter innumber. Expressed in the most easily understood terms, we can put itthat our versatile friend has a chief to command him when a policeman, and a coronel and lieutenant when he is a soldier. Whether thereis any graft in it or not, I do not know, but money is saved by thepolice-military force being one man with interchangeable uniforms, andthe money must go into somebody's pocket. It might be thought that whenthe versatile one had to appear in both capacities at once, he might beat a loss. But not a bit of it. The landing of one of the down-riversteamers offers such an occasion. As soon as the gangplank is out, the policeman goes aboard with the official papers. He is welcomed, receives his fee, and disappears. Not two minutes afterwards, themilitary force in full uniform is seen to emerge from the same hutinto which the policeman went. He appears on the scene with entireunconcern, and the rough and ready diplomacy of Remate de Males hasagain triumphed. 

One of the reasons for the flattering (!) name of the town, "Culmination of Evils, " is the great mortality of the community, whichit has as a part of the great Javary district. Its inhabitants sufferfrom all the functional diseases found in other parts of the world, and, in addition, maladies which are typical of the region. Among themost important of these are the paludismus, or malarial swamp-fever, the yellow-fever, popularly recognised as the black vomit, and last butnot least the beri-beri, the mysterious disease which science does notyet fully understand. The paludismus is so common that it is lookedupon as an unavoidable incident of the daily life. It is generallycaused by the infectious bite of a mosquito, the _Anopheles_, whichis characterised by its attacking with its body almost perpendicularto the surface it has selected. It is only the female mosquitothat bites. There are always fever patients on the Amazon, and the_Anopheles_, stinging indiscriminately, transfers the malarial microbesfrom a fever patient to the blood of well persons. The latter are sureto be laid up within ten days with the _sezoes_, as the fever is calledhere, unless a heavy dose of quinine is taken in time to check it. 

The yellow fever mosquito, the _Stygoma faciata_, seems to prefer otherdown-river localities, but is frequent enough to cause anxiety. Theycall the yellow fever the black vomit, because of this unmistakablesymptom of the disease, which, when once it sets in, always meansa fatal termination. The beri-beri still remains a puzzling maladyfrom which no recoveries have yet been reported, at least not on theAmazon. On certain rivers, in the Matto Grosso province of Brazil, or in Bolivian territory, the beri-beri patients have some chanceof recovery. By immediately leaving the infested district they candescend the rivers until they reach a more favourable climate nearthe sea-coast, or they can go to more elevated regions. But hereon the Amazon, where the only avenue of escape is the river itself, throughout its length a hot-bed of disease where no change of climateoccurs, the time consumed in reaching the sea-coast is too long. Thecause of this disease, and its cure, are unknown. It manifests itselfthrough paralysis of the limbs, which begins at the finger-tips andgradually extends through the system until the heart-muscles becomeparalysed and death occurs. 

The only precautionary measures available are doses of quinine andthe use of the mosquito-net, or _mosquitero_. The latter's value asa preventive is problematical, however, for during each night oneis bound to be bitten frequently, yes, hundreds of times, by theever-present insects in spite of all. 

But if we curse the mosquito, what are we to say of certain otherpests that add to the miseries of life in that out-of-the-way cornerof the globe, and are more persistent in their attentions thaneven the mosquito? In the first place, there are the ants. They areeverywhere. They build their nests under the houses, in the tables, and in the cracks of the floors, and lie in ambush waiting the arrivalof a victim, whom they attack from all sides. They fasten themselveson one and sometimes it takes hours of labour to extract them. Manyare the breakfasts I have delayed on awaking and finding myself tobe the object of their attention. It proved necessary to tie wadsof cotton covered with vaseline to the fastenings of the hammock, to keep the intruders off. But they even got around this plan. Assoon as the bodies of the first arrivals covered the vaseline, therest of the troops marched across them in safety and gained access tothe hammock, causing a quick evacuation on my part. Articles of foodwere completely destroyed by these carnivorous creatures, within afew minutes after I had placed them on the table. 

I present here a list of the various species of ants known to thenatives, together with the peculiarities by which they distinguishthem. I collected the information from Indians on the Seringal"Floresta" on the Itecoahy River. 

_Aracara_--the dreaded fire-ant whose sting is felt for hours. 

_Auhiqui_--lives in the houses where it devours everything edible. 

_Chicitaya_--its bite gives a transient fever. 

_Monyuarah_--clears a large space in the forest for its nest. 

_Sauba_--carries a green leaf over its head. 

_Tachee_--a black ant whose bite gives a transient fever. 

_Tanajura_--one inch long and edible when fried in lard. 

_Taxyrana_--enters the houses like the _auhiqui_. 

_Termita_--builds a typical cone-shaped nest in the dry part ofthe forests. 

_Tracoã_--its bite gives no fever, but the effect is of long duration. 

_Tucandeira_--black and an inch and a half long, with a bite not onlypainful but absolutely dangerous. 

_Tucushee_--gives a transient fever. 

_Uça_--builds large nests in the trees. 

While convalescing from my first attack of swamp-fever, I hadoccasion to study a most remarkable species of spider which was afellow lodger in the hut I then occupied. In size, the specimen wasvery respectable, being able to cover a circle of nearly six inchesin diameter. This spider subsists on large insects and at times onthe smaller varieties of birds, like finches, etc. Its scientificname is _Mygale avicularia_. The natives dread it for its poisonousbite and on account of its great size and hairy body. The first timeI saw the one in my hut was when it was climbing the wall in closeproximity to my hammock. I got up and tried to crush it with my fist, but the spider made a lightning-quick move and stopped about five orsix inches from where I hit the wall. 

Several times I repeated the attack without success, the spideralways succeeding in moving before it could be touched. Somewhatout of temper, I procured a hammer of large size and continuedthe chase until I was exhausted. When my hand grew steady again, I took my automatic pistol, used for big game, and, taking a steadyaim on the fat body of the spider, I fired. But with another of theremarkably quick movements the spider landed the usual safe distancefrom destruction. Then I gave it up. For all I know, that animal, Ican scarcely call it an insect after using a big game pistol on it, is still occupying the hut. About nine months later I was tellingCaptain Barnett, of the R. M. S. _Napo_ which picked me up on the Amazonon my way home, about my ill success in hunting the spider. "Lange, "he asked, "why didn't you try for him with a frying-pan?"

CHAPTER III

OTHER INCIDENTS DURING MY STAY IN REMATE DE MALES

Remate De Males, with Nazareth and São Francisco, is set down in themidst of absolute wilderness. Directly behind the village is thealmost impenetrable maze of tropical jungle. If with the aid of amachete one gets a minute's walk into it, he cannot find his way outexcept by the cackling of the hens around the houses. A dense wallof vegetation shuts in the settlement on every side. Tall palms standabove the rest of the trees; lower down is a mass of smaller but moreluxuriant plants, while everywhere is the twining, tangled _lianas_, making the forest a dark labyrinth of devious ways. Here and thereare patches of tropical blossoms, towering ferns, fungoid growths, orsome rare and beautiful orchid whose parasitical roots have attachedthemselves to a tree trunk. And there is always the subdued confusionthat betokens the teeming animal life. 

Looking up the Itecoahy River, one can see nothing but endless forestand jungle. And the same scene continues for a distance of some eightor nine hundred miles until reaching the headwaters of the riversomewhere far up in Bolivian territory. No settlements are to be foundup there; a few _seringales_ from seventy-five to a hundred milesapart constitute the only human habitations in this large area. Sowild and desolate is this river that its length and course are onlyvaguely indicated even on the best Brazilian maps. It is popularlysupposed that the Itecoahy takes its actual rise about two weeks'journey from its nominal head in an absolutely unexplored region. 

I found the life very monotonous in Remate de Males, especially whenthe river began to go down. This meant the almost complete ending ofcommunication with the outer world; news from home reached me seldomand there was no relief from the isolation. In addition, the varioustorments of the region are worse at this season. Sitting beside themuddy banks of the Itecoahy at sunset, when the vapours arose from theimmense swamps and the sky was coloured in fantastical designs acrossthe western horizon, was the only relief from the sweltering heat ofthe day, for a brief time before the night and its tortures began. Soonthe chorus of a million frogs would start. At first is heard only thecroaking of a few; then gradually more and more add their music untila loud penetrating throb makes the still, vapour-laden atmospherevibrate. The sound reminded me strikingly of that which is heard whenpneumatic hammers are driving home rivets through steel beams. Therewere other frogs whose louder and deeper-pitched tones could bedistinguished through the main nocturnal song. These seemed alwaysto be grumbling something about "_Rubberboots--Rubberboots_. "

By-and-bye one would get used to the sound and it would loseattention. The water in the river floated slowly on its long journeytowards the ocean, almost 2500 miles away. Large dolphins sometimescame to the surface, saluting the calm evening with a loud snort, and disappeared again with a slow, graceful movement. Almost everyevening I could hear issuing from the forest a horrible roar. It camefrom the farthest depths and seemed as if it might well representthe mingled cries of some huge bull and a prowling jaguar that hadattacked him unawares. Yet it all came, I found, from one throat, that of the howling monkey. He will sit alone for hours in a tree-topand pour forth these dreadful sounds which are well calculated tomake the lonely wanderer stop and light a camp-fire for protection. 

On the other hand, is heard the noise of the domestic animals ofthe village. Cows, calves, goats, and pigs seemed to make a habit ofexercising their vocal organs thoroughly before retiring. Dogs barkat the moon; cats chase rats through openings of the palm-leaf roofs, threatening every moment to fall, pursued and pursuers, down upon thehammocks. Vampires flutter around from room to room, occasionallyresting on the tops of the iron partitions, and when they halt, continuing to chirp for a while like hoarse sparrows. Occasionallythere will come out of the darkness of the river a disagreeablesound as if some huge animal were gasping for its last breath beforesuffocating in the mud. The sound has its effect, even upon animals, coming as it does out of the black mysterious night, warning them notto venture far for fear some uncanny force may drag them to death inthe dismal waters. It is the night call of the alligator. 

The sweet plaintive note of a little partridge, called _inamboo_, would sometimes tremble through the air and compel me to forgetthe spell of unholy sounds arising from the beasts of the jungle andriver. Throughout the evening this amorous bird would call to its mate, and somewhere there would be an answering call back in the woods. Manywere the nights when, weak with fever, I awoke and listened to theircalling and answering. Yet never did they seem to achieve the blissof meeting, for after a brief lull the calling and answering voiceswould again take up their pretty song. 

Slowly the days went by and, with their passing, the river fell lowerand lower until the waters receded from the land itself and wereconfined once more to their old course in the river-bed. As the groundbegan to dry, the time came when the mosquitoes were particularlyvicious. They multiplied by the million. Soon the village was filledwith malaria, and the hypodermic needle was in full activity. 

A crowd of about fifty Indians from the Curuça River had been broughtto Remate de Males by launch. They belonged to the territory owned byMons. Danon and slept outside the store-rooms of this plutocrat. Men, women, and children arranged their quarters in the soft mud until theycould be taken to his rubber estate some hundred miles up the JavaryRiver. They were still waiting to be equipped with rubber-workers'outfits when the malaria began its work among them. The poor mistreatedIndians seemed to have been literally saturated with the germs, asthey always slept without any protection whatever; consequently theirsystems offered less resistance to the disease than the ordinaryBrazilian's. In four days there were only twelve persons left outof fifty-two. 

During the last weeks of my stay in Remate de Males, I received aninvitation to take lunch with the local Department Secretary, ProfessorSilveiro, an extremely hospitable and well educated Brazilian. Theimportance of such an invitation meant for me a radical change inappearance--an extensive alteration that could not be wrought withoutconsiderable pains. I had to have a five-months' beard shaved off, andthen get into my best New York shirt, not to forget a high collar. Ialso considered that the occasion necessitated the impressivenessof a frock-coat, which I produced at the end of a long search amongmy baggage and proceeded to don after extracting a tarantula andsome stray scolopendra from the sleeves and pockets. The sensation ofwearing a stiff collar was novel, and not altogether welcome, since thetemperature was near the 100° mark. The reward for my discomfort came, however, in the shape of the best meal I ever had in the Amazon region. 

During these dull days I was made happy by finding a copy of MarkTwain's _A Tramp Abroad_ in a store over in Nazareth on the Peruvianside of the Javary River. I took it with me to my hammock, hailingwith joy the opportunity of receiving in the wilderness somethingthat promised a word from "God's Own Country. " But before I couldbegin the book I had an attack of swamp-fever that laid me up fourdays. During one of the intermissions, when I was barely able to movearound, I commenced reading Mark Twain. It did not take more thantwo pages of the book to make me forget all about my fever. When Igot to the ninth page, I laughed as I had not laughed for months, andpage 14 made me roar so athletically that I lost my balance and fellout of my hammock on the floor. I soon recovered and crept back intothe hammock, but out I went when I reached page 16, and repeated theperformance at pages 19, 21, and 24 until the supplementary excitementbecame monotonous. Whereupon I procured some rags and excelsior, made a bed underneath the hammock, and proceeded to enjoy our eminenthumourist's experience in peace. 

CHAPTER IV

THE JOURNEY UP THE ITECOAHY RIVER

With the subsiding of the waters came my long-desired opportunityto travel the course of the unmapped Itecoahy. In the month of Junea local trader issued a notice that he was to send a launch up theriver for trading purposes and to take the workers who had beensojourning in Remate de Males back to their places of employment, to commence the annual extraction of rubber. The launch was scheduledto sail on a Monday and would ascend the Itecoahy to its headwaters, or nearly so, thus passing the mouths of the Ituhy, the Branco, and Las Pedras rivers, affluents of considerable size which arenevertheless unrecorded on maps. The total length of the Branco Riveris over three hundred miles, and it has on its shores several largeand productive _seringales_. 

When on my way up the Amazon to the Brazilian frontier, I had stoppedat Manaos, the capital of the State of Amazonas. There I had occasionto consult an Englishman about the Javary region. In answer to one ofmy inquiries, I received the following letter, which speaks for itself:

Referring to our conversation of recent date, I should wish oncemore to impress upon your mind the perilous nature of your journey, and I am not basing this information upon hearsay, but upon personalexperience, having traversed the region in question quite recently. 

Owing to certain absolutely untrue articles written by one H----, claiming to be your countryman, I am convinced that you can not relyupon the protection of the employees of this company, as having beenso badly libelled by one, they are apt to forget that such articleswere not at your instigation, and as is often the case the innocentmay suffer for the guilty. 

On the other hand, without this protection you will find yourselfabsolutely at the mercy of savage and cannibal Indians. 

I have this day spoken to the consul here at Manaos and explainedto him that, although I have no wish to deter you from your voyage, you must be considered as the only one responsible in any way forany ill that may befall you. 

Finally, I hope that before disregarding this advice (which I offeryou in a perfectly friendly spirit) you will carefully consider theconsequences which such a voyage might produce, and, frankly speaking, I consider that your chance of bringing it to a successful terminationis Nil. 

Believe me to be, etc. , J. A. M. 

During the time of my journey up the river and of my stay in Rematede Males, I had seen nothing of the particular dangers mentionedin this letter. The only Indians I had seen were such as smokedlong black cigars and wore pink or blue pajamas. The letter furtherdeveloped an interest, started by the hints of life in the interior, which had come to me in the civilisation of Remate de Males. I was, of course, particularly desirous of finding out all I could about thewild people of the inland regions, since I could not recall that muchhad been written about them. 

Henry W. Bates, the famous explorer who ascended the Amazon as faras Teffé, came within 120 miles of the mouth of the Javary River inthe year 1858, and makes the following statement about the indigenoustribes of this region:

The only other tribe of this neighbourhood concerning which I obtainedany information was the Mangeromas, whose territory embraces severalhundred miles of the western banks of the river Javary, an affluentof the Solimoës, a hundred and twenty miles beyond São Paolo daOlivença. These are fierce and indomitable and hostile people, like theAraras of the Madeira River. They are also cannibals. The navigationof the Javary River is rendered impossible on account of the Mangeromaslying in wait on its banks to intercept and murder all travellers. 

Now to return to the letter; I thought that perhaps my English friendhad overdrawn things a little in a laudable endeavour to make me morecautious. In other words, it was for me the old story over again, oflearning at the cost of experience--the story of disregarded advice, and so I went on in my confidence. 

When the announcement of the launch's sailing came, I went immediatelyfor an interview with the owner, a Brazilian named Pedro Smith, whose kindness I shall never forget. He offered me the chance ofmaking the entire trip on his boat, but would accept no remuneration, saying that I would find conditions on the little overcrowded vesselvery uncomfortable, and that the trip would not be free from actualbodily risk. When even he tried to dissuade me, I began to thinkmore seriously of the Englishman's letter, but I told him that I hadfully made up my mind to penetrate the mystery of those little knownregions. I use the term "little known" in the sense that while theyare well enough known to the handful of Indians and rubber-workersyet they are "terra incognita" to the outside world. The white manhas not as yet traversed this Itecoahy and its affluents, althoughit would be a system of no little importance if located in some othercountry--for instance, in the United States. 

My object was to study the rubber-worker at his labour, to find out thetrue length of the Itecoahy River, and to photograph everything worthwhile. I had with me all the materials and instruments necessary--atleast so I thought. 

The photographic outfit consisted of a Graflex camera with a shutterof high speed, which would come handy when taking animals in motion, and a large-view camera with ten dozen photographic plates and acorresponding amount of prepared paper. In view of the difficultiesof travel, I had decided to develop my plates as I went along and makeprints in the field, rather than run the risk of ruining them by someunlucky accident. Perhaps at the very end of the trip a quantityof undeveloped plates might be lost, and such a calamity wouldmean the failure of the whole journey in one of its most importantparticulars. Such a disastrous result was foreshadowed when a porter, loaded with my effects, clambering down the sixty-foot incline extremelow water made at Remate de Males, lost his balance in the last fewfeet of the descent and dropped into the water, completely ruininga whole pack of photographic supplies whose arrival from New York Ihad been awaiting for months. Luckily this was at the beginning ofthis trip and I could replace them from my general stock. 

A hypodermic outfit, quinine, and a few bistouries completed myprimitive medical department. Later on these proved of the greatestvalue. I would never think of omitting such supplies even in a casewhere a few pounds of extra weight are not rashly to be considered. Itturned out that in the regions I penetrated, medical assistance wasa thing unheard of within a radius of several hundred miles. 

A Luger automatic pistol of a calibre of nine millimetres, and severalhundred cartridges, were my armament, and for weeks this pistol becamemy only means of providing a scant food supply. 

Thus equipped I was on hand early in the morning of the day ofstarting, anxious to see what sort of shipmates I was to have. Theyproved all to be _seringueiros_, bound for the upper river. Ourcraft was a forty-foot launch called the _Carolina_. There was alarge crowd of the passengers assembled when I arrived, and theykept coming. To my amazement, it developed that one hundred andtwenty souls were expected to find room on board, together withseveral tons of merchandise. The mystery of how the load was to beaccommodated was somewhat solved, when I saw them attach a lighter toeach side of the launch, and again, when some of the helpers broughtup a fleet of dugouts which they proceeded to make fast by a sternhawser. But the mystery was again increased, when I was told thatnone of the passengers intended to occupy permanent quarters on theauxiliary fleet. As I was already taken care of, I resolved that ifthe problem was to worry anybody, it would be the _seringueiros_, though I realised that I would be travelling by "slow steamer" whenthe little old-fashioned _Carolina_ should at length begin the taskof fighting the five-mile current with this tagging fleet to challengeits claim to a twelve-horse-power engine. 

The _seringueiros_ and their families occupied every foot of spacethat was not reserved for merchandise. Hammocks were strung overand under each other in every direction, secured to the posts whichsupported the roof. Between them the rubber-coated knapsacks weresuspended. On the roof was an indiscriminate mass of chicken-coopswith feathered occupants; and humanity. 

About midships on each lighter was a store-room, one of which wasoccupied by the clerk who accompanied the launch. In this theygenerously offered me the opportunity of making my headquartersduring the trip. The room was about six feet by eight and containeda multitude of luxuries and necessities for the rubber-workers. Therewere . 44 Winchester rifles in large numbers, the usual, indispensableCollins machete, and tobacco in six-feet-long, spindle-shapedrolls. There was also the "***" Hennessy cognac, selling at 40, 000reis ($14. 00 gold) a bottle; and every variety of canned edible fromCalifornia pears to Horlick's malted milk, from Armour's corned beefto Heinz's sweet pickles. 

Every one was anxious to get started; I, who had more to look forwardto than months of monotonous labour in the forests, not the least. Atlast the owner of the boat arrived, it being then two o'clock in theafternoon. He came aboard to shake hands with everyone and after along period of talking pulled the cord leading to the steam-whistle, giving the official signal for departure. It then developed that oneof the firemen was missing. Without him we could not start on ourjourney. The whistling was continued for fully forty minutes withoutany answer. Finally, the longed-for gentleman was seen emergingunsteadily from the local gin-shop with no sign of haste. He managedto crawl on board and we were off, amid much noise and firing of guns. 

After a two-hours' run we stopped at a place consisting of two housesand a banana patch. Evidently the owner of this property made aside-business of supplying palm-wood as fuel for the launch. A loadwas carried on board and stowed beside the boiler, and we went oncemore on our way. I cannot say that the immediate surroundings werecomfortable. There were people everywhere. They were lounging in thehammocks, or lying on the deck itself; and some were even sprawlinguncomfortably on their trunks or knapsacks. A cat would have haddifficulty in squeezing itself through this compact mass of men, chattering women, and crying children. But I had no sooner begun toreflect adversely on the situation, than the old charm of the Amazonasserted itself again and made me oblivious to anything so trivialas personal comfort surroundings. I became lost to myself in theenjoyment of the river. 

That old fig-tree on the bank is worth looking at. The mass of itsbranches, once so high-reaching and ornamental, now lie on the groundin a confused huddle, shattered and covered with parasites and orchids, while millions of ants are in full activity destroying the lastclusters of foliage. It is only a question of weeks, perhaps days, before some blast of wind will throw this humbled forest-monarch overthe steep bank of the river. When the water rises again, the trunkwith a few skeleton branches will be carried away with the currentto begin a slow but relentless drift to old Father Amazon. Here andthere will be a little pause, while the river gods decide, and then itwill move on, to be caught somewhere along the course and contributeto the formation of some new island or complete its last long journeyto the Atlantic Ocean. 

As the launch rounds bend after bend in the river, the same magnificentforest scenery is repeated over and over again. Sometimes a tallmatamatá tree stands in a little accidental clearing, entirelycovered with a luxuriant growth of vegetation. But these are borrowedplumes. Bushropes, climbers, and vines have clothed it from rootto topmost branch, but they are only examples of the legion ofbeautiful parasites that seem to abound in the tropics. They willsap the vitality of this masterpiece of Nature, until in its turnit will fall before some stormy night's blow. All along the shorethere is a myriad life among the trees and beautifully coloured birdsflash in and out of the branches. You can hear a nervous chatteringand discern little brown bodies swinging from branch to branch, or hanging suspended for fractions of a second from the network ofclimbers and aerial roots. They are monkeys. They follow the launchalong the trees on the banks for a while and then disappear. 

The sun is glaring down on the little craft and its human freight. Thetemperature is 112 degrees (F. ) in the shade and the only place forpossible relief is on a box of cognac alongside the commandant'shammock. He has fastened this directly behind the wheel so that hecan watch the steersman, an Indian with filed teeth and a machetestuck in his belt. 

Would anyone think that these trees, lining the shore for miles andmiles and looking so beautiful and harmless by day, have a miasmaticbreath or exhalation at night that produces a severe fever in one whois subjected for any length of time to their influence. It would beimpossible for even the most fantastical scenic artist to exaggeratethe picturesque combinations of colour and form ever changing likea kaleidoscope to exhibit new delights. A tall and slender palmcan be seen in its simple beauty alongside the white trunk of theembauba tree, with umbrella-shaped crown, covered and gracefullydraped with vines and hanging plants, whose roots drop down untilthey reach the water, or join and twist themselves until they form aleaf-portière. And for thousands of square miles this ever changingdisplay of floral splendour is repeated and repeated. And it would bea treat for an ornithologist to pass up the river. A hundred timesa day flocks of small paroquets fly screaming over our heads andsettle behind the trees. Large, green, blue, and scarlet parrots, the araras, fly in pairs, uttering penetrating, harsh cries, andsometimes an egret with her precious snow-white plumage would keepjust ahead of us with graceful wing-motion, until she chose a spotto alight among the low bushes close to the water-front. 

The dark blue toucan, with its enormous scarlet and yellow beak, would suddenly appear and fly up with peculiar jerky swoops, at thesame time uttering its yelping cry. Several times I saw light greenlizards of from three to four feet in length stretched out on branchesof dead trees and staring at us as we passed. 

Night came and drew its sombre curtain over the splendours. I wasnow shown a place of unpretentious dimensions where I could suspendmy hammock, but, unluckily, things were so crowded that there wasno room for a mosquito-net around me. Under ordinary circumstances, neglect of this would have been an inexcusable lack of prudence, but I lay down trusting that the draft created by the passage of theboat would keep the insect pests away, as they told me it would. Ifound that experience had taught them rightly. 

To the post where I tied the foot-end of my hammock there were fastenedsix other hammocks. Consequently seven pairs of feet were bound tocome into pretty close contact with each other. While I was luckyenough to have the hammock closest to the rail, I was unlucky enoughto have as my next neighbour a woman; she was part Brazilian negroand part Indian. She had her teeth filed sharp like shark's teeth, wore brass rings in her ears, large enough to suspend portières from, and smoked a pipe continually. I found later that it was a habit totake the pipe to bed with her, so that she could begin smoking thefirst thing in the morning. She used a very expensive Parisian perfume, whether to mitigate the effects of the pipe or not, I do not know. 

Under the conditions I have described I lay down in my hammock, butfound that sleep was impossible. There was nothing to do but resignmyself to Fate and find amusement, with all the philosophy possible, by staring at the sky. I counted the stars over and over again andtried to identify old friends among the constellations. Among them theSouthern Cross was a stranger to me, but the Great Dipper, one endof which was almost hidden behind the trees, I recognised with allthe freedom of years of acquaintance. My mind went back to the lasttime I had seen it; across the house-tops of old Manhattan it was, and under what widely different conditions!

At last a merciful Providence closed my eyes and I was soon transportedby the arms of Morpheus to the little lake in Central Park that I hadliked so well. I dreamed of gliding slowly over the waters of thatplacid lake, and awoke to find myself being energetically kicked in theshins by my female neighbour. There was nothing to do but indulge ina few appropriate thoughts on this community-sleeping-apartment life, and then I got up to wander forward, as best I could in the dark, across the sleeping forms and take refuge on top of my case of cognac. 

We seemed to be down in a pool of vast darkness, of whose walls noone could guess the limits. I listened to the gurgling of water atthe bow and wondered how it was possible for the man at the wheelto guide our course without colliding with the many tree trunks thatwere scattered everywhere about us. The river wound back and forth, hardly ever running straight for more than half a mile, and the pilotcontinually had to steer the boat almost to the opposite bank to keepthe trailing canoes from stranding on the sand-bars at the turns. Nowand then a lightning flash would illuminate the wild banks, provingthat we were not on the bosom of some Cimmerian lake, but following acontinuous stream that stretched far ahead, and I could get a glimpseof the dark, doubly-mysterious forests on either hand; and now andthen a huge tree-trunk would slip swiftly and silently past us. 

The only interruption of the perfect quiet that prevailed was theoccasional outburst of roars from the throat of the howling monkey, which I had come to know as making the night hideous in Remate deMales. But the present environment added just the proper atmosphereto make one think for a second that he was participating in somephantasm of Dante's. 

There was no particular incident to record on the trip, till Junethe 16th, in the night-time, when we arrived at Porto Alegre, theglad harbour, which consisted of one hut. This hut belonged to theproprietor of a _seringale_. I followed the captain and the clerkashore and, with them, was warmly received by the owner, when we hadclambered up the ladder in front of the hut. He had not heard fromcivilisation for seven months, and was very glad to see people fromthe outside world, especially as they were bringing a consignment ofmerchandise that would enable him to commence the annual tapping ofthe rubber trees. 

About a dozen _seringueiros_ and their families disembarked here andwent without ceremony to their quarters, where they had a fire goingin less than no time. 

It is the custom in this section of Brazil to make visitors welcomein a rather complicated manner. You first place your arm around theother man's waist, resting the palm of your hand on his back. Thenwith the other hand you pat him on the shoulder, or as near thatpoint as you can reach. Whether it recalled my wrestling practice ornot, I do not know, but the first time I ever tried this, I nearlysucceeded in throwing down the man I was seeking to honour. 

After the proprietor had greeted each of us in this cordial way, we satdown. A large negress made her appearance, smoking a pipe and carryinga tray full of tiny cups, filled with the usual unsweetened jet-blackcoffee. After a brief stay, during which business was discussed andan account given of the manner of death of all the friends who haddeparted this life during the season in Remate de Males, we took ourleave and were off again, in the middle of the night, amid a generaldischarging of rifles and much blowing of the steam-whistle. 

The night was intensely dark, what moon there was being hidden behindclouds most of the time, and an occasional flash of lightning wouldshow us that we were running very close to the shores. I decidedto go on the roof of the right-hand lighter, where I thought Iwould get better air and feel more comfortable than in the closequarters below. On the roof I found some old rags and a rubber coatedknapsack. Taking these to the stern, I lay down upon them and wentto sleep. I imagine that I must have been asleep about two hours, when I was aroused by a crashing sound that came from the forepartof the boat. Luckily, I had fallen asleep with my eyeglasses on, otherwise, as I am near-sighted, I should not have been able to graspthe situation as quickly as proved necessary. 

We were so close to the shore that the branches of a low-hanging treeswept across the top of the lighter, and it was this branch that causedthe turmoil as the craft passed through it, causing everything to betorn from the roof; trunks, bags, and chicken-coops, in a disorderedmass. I had received no warning and hardly had collected my sensesbefore this avalanche was upon me. Seizing the branches as they came, Iheld on for dear life. I tried to scramble over them to the other partof the roof, but having fallen asleep on the stern there was no chance. 

I felt myself being lifted off the boat, and as I blindly held on Ihad time to wonder whether the tree would keep me out of the water, or lower me into the waiting jaws of some late alligator. But it didbetter than that for me. The branches sagged under my weight, and Isoon saw that they were going to lower me upon the trailing canoes. Idid not wait to choose any particular canoe, but, as the first onecame beneath me, I dropped off, landing directly on top of a sleepingrubber-worker and giving him probably as bad a scare as I had had. Forthe remainder of the night I considered the case of cognac, previouslyreferred to, a marvellously comfortable and safe place to stay. 

During the next day we made two stops, and at the second took on boardeighteen more passengers. It seemed to me that they would have to sleepin a vertical position, since, as far as I could discover, the placeswhere it could be done horizontally were all occupied. At five in theafternoon of this day, we arrived at a small rubber estate called BoaVista, where the owner kept cut palm-wood to be used for the launch, besides bananas, pineapples and a small patch of cocoa-plants. Thefiremen of our launch were busily engaged in carrying the wood, when one of them suddenly threw off his load and came running downthe bank. The others scattered like frightened sheep, and only withdifficulty could be brought to explain that they had seen a snakeof a poisonous variety. We crept slowly up to the place under thewood-pile which they had pointed out, and there about a foot of thetail of a beautifully decorated snake was projecting. I jammed mytwenty-four-inch machete through it longitudinally, at the same timejumping back, since it was impossible to judge accurately where thehead might come from. It emerged suddenly about where we expected, thethin tongue working in and out with lightning speed and the reptileevidently in a state of great rage, for which I could hardly blameit, as its tail was pinned down and perforated with a machete. Wedispatched it with a blow on the head and on measuring it foundthe length to be nearly nine feet. The interrupted loading of woodcontinued without much additional excitement and we were soon on ourway again. 

That night I passed very badly. My female neighbour insisted onusing the edge of my hammock for a foot-rest, and, to add to mygeneral discomfort, my hammock persisted in assuming a convex shaperather than a more conventional and convenient concave, which put mein constant danger of being thrown headlong into the river, only afew inches away. Finally, I took my hammock down from its fasteningsand went aft where I found a vacant canoe among those still trailingbehind. I threw my hammock in the bottom and with this for a bedmanaged to fall asleep, now and then receiving a blow from someunusually low branch which threatened to upset my floating couch. 

The next morning it was found that we had lost two canoes, evidently torn loose during the night without anybody noticing theaccident. Luckily, I had not chosen either of these to sleep in, nor had anyone else. I cannot help thinking what my feelings wouldhave been if I had found myself adrift far behind the launch. 

For several days more we continued going up the seemingly endlessriver. Human habitations were far apart, the last ones we had seenas much as eighty-five miles below. We expected soon to be in theterritory owned by Coronel da Silva, the richest rubber proprietor inthe Javary region. I found the level of this land we were passingthrough to be slightly higher than any I had traversed as yet, although even here we were passing through an entirely submergedstretch of forest. There were high inland spaces that had alreadybegun to dry up, as we could see, and this was the main indicationof higher altitude than had been found lower down the river. Anotherindication was that big game was more in evidence. The animals findhere a good feeding place without the necessity of migrating todistant locations when the water begins to come through the forest. 

At a place, with the name of Nova Aurora, again consisting of one hut, we found a quantity of skins stretched in the sunlight to dry. Theywere mostly the hides of yellow jaguars, or pumas, as we call themin the United States, and seven feet from the nose to the end of thetail was not an unusual length. Although, as we learned, they had beentaken from the animals only a few weeks previously, they had alreadybeen partly destroyed by the gnawing of rats. A tapir, weighing nearlyseven hundred and fifty pounds, had been shot the day before and wasbeing cut up for food when we arrived. We were invited to stay andtake dinner here, and I had my first opportunity of tasting roasttapir. I found that it resembled roast beef very much, only sweeter, and the enjoyment of this food belongs among the very few pleasantmemories I preserve of this trip. 

While they were getting dinner ready, I noticed what I took to be astuffed parrot on a beam in the kitchen. But when I touched its tailI found that it was enough alive to come near snapping my fingeroff. It was a very large arara parrot with two tail feathers, eachabout thirty-six inches long, a magnificent specimen worthy of a placein a museum. Parrots of this particular species are very difficultto handle, being as stupid and malicious as they are beautiful. Theyoften made me think of dandies who go resplendent in fine clothesbut are less conspicuous for mental excellences. 

After having indulged in black coffee, we were invited to give thehouse and the surroundings a general inspection. Directly behind thestructure was the smoking hut, or _defumador_, as it is called. Insidethis are a number of sticks inclined in pyramid form and covered withpalm-leaves. In the floor a hole was dug for the fire that serves forcoagulating the rubber-milk. Over this pit is hung a sort of frame forguiding the heavy stick employed in the smoking of the rubber. At thistime the process had not become for me the familiar story that it wasdestined to be. Beneath the hut were several unfinished paddles and acanoe under construction. The latter are invariably of the "dugout"type. A shape is roughly cut from a tree-trunk and then a fire isbuilt in the centre and kept burning in the selected places until thetrunk is well hollowed out. It is then finished off by hand. Paddlesare formed from the buttresses which radiate from the base of thematamatá tree, forming thin but very strong spurs. They are easilycut into the desired shape by the men and receive decorations fromthe hands of the women who often produce striking colour effects. Abeautiful scarlet tint is obtained from the fruit of the urueu plant, and the genipapa produces a deep rich-black colour. These dyes areremarkably glossy, and they are waterproof and very stable. 

After sunset the launch was off again. Everything went quietly untilmidnight, when we were awakened with great suddenness. The launchhad collided with a huge log that came floating down the stream. Itwedged itself between the side of the boat and the lighter and itrequired much labour to get ourselves loose from it. After we gotfree, the log tore two of the canoes from their fastenings and theydrifted off; but the loss was not discovered until the next morning, when we were about thirty-five miles from the scene of the accident. 

Two more days passed without any incident of a more interestingnature than was afforded by occasional stops at lonely _barracãos_where merchandise was unloaded and fuel for the engine taken in. Wewere always most cordially received by the people and invited to takecoffee, while murmurs of "_Esta casa e a suas ordenes_"--This houseis at your disposal--followed our departure. Unlike many conventionalphrases of politeness, I do not know that the sentiment was entirelyexaggerated, It is typical of the Brazilian and is to be reckonedwith his other good qualities. They always combine a respect forthose things that are foreign, with their decided patriotism. Thehospitality the stranger receives at their hands is nothing short ofmarvellous, and no greater insult can be inflicted than to offer topay for accommodations. I find any retrospective glance over the daysI spent among these people coloured with much pleasure when I reviewincidents connected with my contact with them. There is a word in thePortuguese language which holds a world of meaning for anyone who hasbeen in that land so richly bestowed with the blessings of Nature, Brazil. It is _saudades_, a word that arouses only the sweetest andtenderest of memories. 

There were seven more days of travel before we reached the headquartersof Floresta, the largest rubber-estate in the Javary region. It coversan area somewhat larger than Long Island. Coronel da Silva, the owner, lives in what would be called an unpretentious house in any otherplace but the Amazon. Here it represents the highest achievement ofarchitecture and modern comfort. It is built on sixteen-foot poles andstands on the outskirts of a half-cleared space which contains also sixsmaller buildings scattered around. The house had seven medium-sizedrooms, equipped with modern furniture of an inexpensive grade. Therewas also an office which, considering that it was located about2900 miles from civilisation, could be almost called up-to-date. Iremember, for instance, that a clock from New Haven had found itsway here. In charge of the office was a secretary, a Mr. Da Marinha, who was a man of considerable education and who had graduated inthe Federal capital. Several years of health-racking existence inthe swamps had made him a nervous and indolent man, upon whose facea smile was never seen. The launch stopped here twenty-four hours, unloading several tons of merchandise, to replenish the store-houseclose to the river front. I took advantage of the wait to conversewith Coronel da Silva. He invited me cordially to stop at his houseand spend the summer watching the rubber-work and hunting the gamethat these forests contained. It was finally proposed that I go withthe launch up to the Branco River, only two days' journey distant, andthat on its return I should disembark and stay as long as I wished. Tothis I gladly assented. We departed in the evening bound for the BrancoRiver. On this trip I had my first attack of fever. I had no warningof the approaching danger until a chill suddenly came over me on thefirst day out from Floresta. I had felt a peculiar drowsiness forseveral days, but had paid little attention to it as one generallyfeels drowsy and tired in the oppressive heat and humidity. When tothis was added a second chill that shook me from head to foot with suchviolence that I thought my last hour had come, I knew I was in for myfirst experience of the dreaded Javary fever. There was nothing to dobut to take copious doses of quinine and keep still in my hammock closeto the rail of the boat. The fever soon got strong hold of me and Ialternated between shivering with cold and burning with a temperaturethat reached 104 and 105 degrees. Towards midnight it abated somewhat, but left me so nearly exhausted that I was hardly able to raise myhead to see where we were going. Our boat kept close to the bank soas to get all possible advantage of the eddying currents. 

I was at length aroused from a feverish slumber by being flung suddenlyto the deck of the launch with a violent shock, while men and womenshouted in excitement that the craft would surely turn over. Wewere careened at a dangerous angle when I awoke and in my reducedcondition it was not difficult to imagine that a capsize was to be theresult. But with a ripping, rending sound the launch suddenly righteditself. It developed that we had had a more serious encounter witha protruding branch than in any of the previous collisions. This onehad caught on the very upright to which my hammock was secured. Thestanchion in this case was iron and its failure to give way had causedthe boat to tilt. Finally the iron bent to an S shape and the branchslipped off after tearing the post from its upper fastenings. Itwas a narrow escape from a calamity, but the additional excitementaggravated my fever and I went from bad to worse. Therefore it wasfound advisable, when we arrived, late the next day, at the mouth ofthe Branco, to put me ashore to stay in the hut of the manager of therubber estate, so that I might not cause the crew and the passengersof the launch inconvenience through my sickness and perhaps ultimatedeath. I was carried up to the hut and placed in a hammock whereI was given a heavy dose of quinine. I dimly remember hearing thefarewell-toot of the launch as she left for the down-river trip, andthere I was alone in a strange place among people of whose languageI understood very little. In the afternoon a young boy was placed ina hammock next to mine, and soon after they brought in a big, heavyBrazilian negro, whom they put on the other side. Like me they weresuffering from Javary fever and kept moaning all through the afternoonin their pain, but all three of us were too sick to pay any attentionto each other. That night my fever abated a trifle and I could hearthe big fellow raving in delirium about snakes and lizards, whichhe imagined he saw. When the sun rose at six the next morning he wasdead. The boy expired during the afternoon. 

It was torture to lie under the mosquito-net with the fever pulsingthrough my veins and keeping my blood at a high temperature, but Idared not venture out, even if I had possessed the strength to do so, for fear of the mosquitoes and the sand-flies which buzzed outside inlegions. For several days I remained thus and then began to mend alittle. Whether it was because of the greater vitality of the whiterace or because I had not absorbed a fatal dose, I do not know, but I improved. When I felt well enough, I got up and arranged withthe rubber-estate manager to give me two Indians to paddle me and mybaggage down to Floresta. I wanted to get down there where I couldhave better accommodations before I should become sick again. 

CHAPTER V

FLORESTA: LIFE AMONG THE RUBBER-WORKERS

It was half past five in the morning when we arrived at the landingof the Floresta estate. Since it was too early to go up to thehouse I placed my trunk on the bank and sat admiring the surroundinglandscape, partly enveloped in the mist that always hangs over thesedamp forests until sunrise. The sun was just beginning to colour theeastern sky with faint warm tints. Before me was the placid surface ofthe Itecoahy, which seemed as though nothing but my Indian's paddleshad disturbed it for a century. Just here the river made a wide turnand on the sand-bar that was formed a few large freshwater turtlescould be seen moving slowly around. The banks were high and steep, and it appeared incredible that the flood could rise so high thatit would inundate the surrounding country and stand ten or twelvefeet above the roots of the trees--a rise that represented aboutsixty-seven feet in all. 

When I turned around I saw the half-cleared space in front of mestretching over a square mile of ground. To the right was Coronelda Silva's house, already described, and all about, the humbler_barracãos_ or huts of the rubber-workers. In the clearing, palm-treesand guava brush formed a fairly thick covering for the ground, butcompared with the surrounding impenetrable jungle the little open spacedeserved its title of "clearing. " A few cows formed a rare sight asthey wandered around nibbling at the sparse and sickly growth of grass. 

By-and-bye the sun was fully up; but even then it could not fullydisperse the mists that hung over the landscape. The birds were wakingand their calls filled the air. The amorous notes of the inamboo wererepeated and answered from far off by its mate, and the melancholysong of the wacurão piped musically out from the vastness of theforest. Small green paroquets flew about and filled the air withtheir not altogether pleasant voices. These are the same birds thatare well-known to the residents of New York and other large cities, where a dozen of them can often be seen in charge of an intrepidItalian, who has them trained to pick cards out of a box for anyonedesiring his fortune told for the sum of five cents. Here they mustprovide by their own efforts for their own futures, however. Even atthis hour the howling monkey had not left off disturbing the peacewith its hideous din. 

Gradually the camp woke up to the day's work. A tall pajama-clad manspied me and was the first to come over. He was a very serious-lookinggentleman and with his full-bearded face looked not unlike the artist'sconception of the Saviour. He bade me welcome in the usual generousterms of the Brazilians and invited me into the house, where I againmet Coronel da Silva. This first-mentioned grave-looking man was Mr. DaMarinha. The kindness with which he welcomed me was most grateful;especially so in my present physical condition. I noticed what hadnot been so apparent on my first meeting with him, that recent andcontinuous ravages of fevers and spleen troubles had reduced him, though a fairly young man, to the usual nerve-worn type that thewhite man seems bound to become after any long stay in the upperAmazon region. 

Not knowing where I might stop when I left Remate de Males, I hadbrought with me a case of canned goods. I only succeeded in insultingthe Coronel when I mentioned this. He gave me his best room andsent for a new hammock for me. Such attentions to a stranger, whocame without even a letter of introduction, are typical of Brazilianhospitality. 

After a plentiful meal, consisting of fried fish and roastloin of tapir, which tasted very good, we drank black coffee andconversed as well as my limited knowledge of the Portuguese languagepermitted. After this, naturally, feeling very tired from my travelsand the heat of the day, I arranged my future room, strung my hammock, and slept until a servant announced that supper was served. This mealconsisted of jerked beef, farinha, rice, black beans, turtle soup, and the national Goiabada marmalade. The cook, who was nothing buta sick rubber-worker, had spoiled the principal part of the meal bydisregarding the juices of the meat, and cooking it without salt, besides mixing the inevitable farinha with everything. But it wasa part of the custom of the country and could not be helped. _Degustibus non est disputandum. _

When this meal was over, I was invited to go with the secretary, Mr. Da Marinha, the man who had first greeted me in the morning, to see a sick person. At some distance from the house was a smallbarracão, where we were received by a _seringueiro_ named Marques. Thisremarkable man was destined to figure prominently in experiences thatI had to undergo later. He pulled aside a large mosquito-net whichguarded the entrance of the inner room of this hut. In the hammockwe found a middle-aged woman; a native of Cearã. Her face was notunattractive but terribly emaciated, and she was evidently verysick. She showed us an arm bound up in rags, and the part exposedwas wasted and dark red. It was explained that three weeks before, an accident had forced a wooden splinter into her thumb and she hadneglected the inflammation that followed. I asked her to undo thewrappings, a thing which I should never have done, and the sightwe saw was most discouraging. The hand was swollen until it wouldnot have been recognised as a hand, and there was an immense lesionextending from the palm to the middle of the forearm. The latter was ina terrible condition, the flesh having been eaten away to the bone. Itwas plainly a case of gangrene of a particularly vicious character. 

Suddenly it dawned upon me that they all took me for a doctor; and thequestions they asked as to what should be done, plainly indicated thatthey looked to me for assistance. I explained that I had no knowledgeof surgery, but that in spite of this I was sure that if somethingwere not done immediately the woman would have little time to live. 

I asked if there was not a doctor that could be reached within a fewdays' journey. We discussed sending the woman to Remate de Males bycanoe, but this idea was abandoned, for the journey even undertaken bythe most skilful paddlers could not be made in less than eighteen days, and by that time the gangrene would surely have killed the patient. 

Coronel da Silva was called in. He said that the woman was the wifeof the chief of the _caucheros_ and that her life must be saved ifpossible. I explained my own incapacity in this field once more, butinsisted that we would be justified in undertaking an amputation asthe only chance of preventing her death. 

I now found myself in a terrible position. The operation is a verydifficult one even in the hands of a skilful surgeon, and here I wascalled to perform it with hardly an elementary knowledge of the scienceand not even adequate instruments. At the same time, it seemed moralcowardice to avoid it, since evidently I was the one best qualified, and the woman would die in agony if not soon relieved. I trembled allover when I concluded that there was no escape. We went to the roomand got the bistoury and the forceps given me by a medical friendbefore I left home. Besides these, I took some corrosive sublimate, intended for the preparation of animal skins, and some photographicclips. The secretary, after a search produced an old and rusty hacksawas the only instrument the estate could furnish. This we cleaned ascarefully as possible with cloths and then immersed it in a solutionof sublimate. Before going to the patient's hut I asked the owner andthe woman's husband if they were reconciled to my attempt and wouldnot hold me responsible in case of her death. They answered that, as the woman was otherwise going to die, we were entirely rightin doing whatever we could. I found the patient placidly smokinga pipe, her injured arm over the edge of the hammock. By this timeshe understood that she was to have her arm amputated by a surgicalnovice. She seemed not to be greatly concerned over the matter, andwent on smoking her pipe while we made the arrangements. We placed heron the floor and told her to lie still. We adjusted some rubber clothunder the dead arm. Her husband and three children stood watching withexpressionless faces. Two monkeys, tied to a board in a corner wereplaying and fighting together. A large parrot was making discursivecomment on the whole affair, while a little lame dog seemed to be themost interested spectator. The secretary took the bistoury from thebowl containing the sublimate and handed it to me with a bow. Witha piece of cotton I washed the intended spot of operation and traceda line with a pencil on the arm. 

Imagine with what emotions I worked! After we had once started, however, we forgot everything except the success of our operation. Iomit a description of the details, as they might prove toogruesome. The woman fainted from shock just before we touched thebone, --Nature thus supplying an effective, if rude, anæsthetic. Wehad forgotten about sewing together the flesh, and when we cameto this a boy was dispatched to the owner's house for a package ofstout needles. These were held in the fire for a few seconds, andthen immersed when cold in the sublimate before they were used tojoin the flesh. By the time it was done, I was, myself, feeling verysick. Finally I could stand the little room of torture no longer, and left the secretary dressing the wound. Would she recover fromthe barbaric operation? This question kept coursing through my headas I vainly tried for a long time to go to sleep. 

The next day, after an early observation of my patient, who seemedto have recovered from the shock and thus gave at least this hopeof success, I spent my time going around to visit the homes of the_seringueiros_. They were all as polite as their chief, and afterexchanging the salute of "Boa dia, " they would invite me to climbup the ladder and enter the hut. Here they would invariably offerme a cup of strong coffee. There were always two or three hammocks, of which I was given the one I liked best. The huts generally consistof two rooms with a few biscuit-boxes as chairs, and Winchester riflesand some fancy-painted paddles to complete the furniture. 

The following day I arose with the sun and, after some coffee, askeda huge small-pox-scarred fellow to accompany me on my first excursioninto the real jungle. Up to this time I had only seen it from my backporch in Remate de Males and from the deck of the launch _Carolina_, but now I was in the heart of the forest and would indulge in jungletrips to my heart's content. We entered through a narrow pathway calledan _estrada_, whose gateway was guarded by a splendid palm-tree, like a Cerberus at the gates of dark Hades. The _estrada_ led uspast one hundred to one hundred and fifty rubber trees, as it woundits way over brooks and fallen trees. Each of the producing treeshad its rough bark gashed with cuts to a height of ten to twelvefeet all around its circumference. These marks were about an inchand a half in length. Alongside of the tree was always to be founda stick, on the end of which were a dozen or so of small tin-cupsused in collecting the rubber-milk. Every worker has two _estradas_to manage, and by tapping along each one alternately he obtains themaximum of the product. This particular _estrada_ was now desertedas the _seringueiro_ happened to be at work on the other one underhis jurisdiction. 

It was in a sense agreeable to work there as the sun could notpenetrate the dense foliage and the air was therefore cool. After wehad walked for about an hour, my big guide complained of being tiredand of feeling unwell. I told him he could go back to the camp andleave me to find my way alone. Accordingly he left me and I now hadthe task of carrying without assistance my large 8 x 10 view-camera, a shotgun, a revolver, and a machete. 

Gradually my ear caught a terrible sound which to the uninitiatedwould have seemed like the roaring of a dozen lions in combat, butthe dreadful notes that vibrated through the forest were only thoseof the howling monkey. I always had a great desire to see one of thisspecies in the act of performing this uncanny forest-concert, thereforeI left the rubber pathway after placing my camera on the ground, upagainst a rubber tree, and commenced following the noise, cutting myway through the underbrush. I walked and walked, but the sound seemedto remain the same distance away, and I stopped to reconnoitre. 

I hesitated whether to proceed or not, fearing I might lose the wayand not be able to find my camera again. The monkey was not visibleat all; it fact, it was not possible to see anything, unless it wasvery close by, so dense was the foliage. I laid my automatic pistolon a fallen tree-trunk, and was trying to figure out the chances ofgetting a look at my simian friend and at the same time not losing myvaluable property on the pathway, when I heard another startling sound, this time near-by. I prepared myself for whatever species of animal wasdue, and could feel the excitement a hunter knows when he thinks he isabout to get a sight of big game. Suddenly the undergrowth parted infront of me and a herd of wild boars came trotting out. I drew a beadon the biggest of the lot and fired, letting five soft-nose bullets gothrough his head to make sure; the others fled, and I hastened to thespot to examine my prize more closely. It was a boar of medium size, weighing in the neighbourhood of one hundred and twenty-five pounds, and he had a fine set of tusks. He was rather vicious-looking andwas doing considerable kicking before he gave up the ghost. It wasimpossible for me to carry him through the bush owing to the fact thatI had the valuable camera and apparatus to take care of, so I madea mental note of the spot, and cut his ears off. It took four hours'search to find the camera, in spite of my belief that I had not gonefar, and it was late in the afternoon when I arrived at headquarters. 

The very next morning there was a good opportunity to see the smokingof rubber-milk. A _seringueiro_ had collected his product and whenI went to the smoking-hut I found him busy turning over and over abig stick, resting on two horizontal guides, built on both sides ofa funnel from which a dense smoke was issuing. On the middle of thestick was a huge ball of rubber. Over this he kept pouring the milkfrom a tin-basin. Gradually the substance lost its liquidity andcoagulated into a beautiful yellow-brown mass which was rubber inits first crude shipping state. 

The funnel from which the smoke issued was about three feet high and ofa conical shape. At its base was a fire of small wooden chips, whichwhen burning gave forth an acrid smoke containing a large percentageof creosote. It is this latter substance which has the coagulatingeffect upon the rubber-milk. When the supply of milk was exhausted, he lifted the ball and stick off the guides and rolled it on a smoothplank to drive the moisture out of the newly-smoked rubber. Then hewas through for the day. He placed the stick on two forked branchesand put some green leaves over the funnel to smother the fire. On topof the leaves he put a tin-can and a chunk of clay, then filled thehole in the ground with ashes. Under this arrangement the fire wouldkeep smouldering for twenty-four hours, to be used anew for the nextrepetition of the smoking process. 

In the afternoon we again went out to hunt. This time I took only a12-gauge shotgun. As we travelled through the forest I was impressedonce more by the fascination of the grandly extravagant vegetation. 

But there is little charm about it, nothing of the tranquillity ouridyllic Catskills or even the sterner Adirondacks, create. There is noinvitation to repose, no stimulus to quiet enjoyment, for the myriadlife of the Amazon's jungle forest never rests. There is always somesound or some movement which is bound to stir in one the instinctof self-preservation. You have to be constantly alive to the dangerof disagreeable annoyance from the pests that abound, or of actualbodily harm from animals of the reptilian order. 

Were I in possession of adequate descriptive power I could picturethe impression that this jungle creates upon the mind of one from theNorth, but now, as I once more sit in a large city with sky-scraperstowering about me, and hear the rattling noise of the elevated railwaytrain as it rushes past, my pen fails me and I have to remove myself onthe wings of thought to those remote forests, fully realising, "_Beatusille, qui procul negotiis, ut_" etc. , etc. Then I can feel againthe silence and the gloom that pervade those immense and wonderfulwoods. The few sounds of birds and animals are, generally, of a pensiveand mysterious character, and they intensify the feeling of solituderather than impart to it a sense of life and cheerfulness. Sometimesin the midst of the noon-day stillness, a sudden yell or scream willstartle one, coming from some minor fruit-eating animal, set upon by acarnivorous beast or serpent. Morning and evening, the forest resoundswith the fearful roar of the howling monkeys, and it is hard, evenfor the stoutest heart, to maintain its buoyancy of spirit. The senseof inhospitable wilderness, which the jungle inspires, is increasedtenfold by this monstrous uproar. Often in the still hours of night, a sudden crash will be heard, as some great branch or a dead tree fallsto the ground. There are, besides, many sounds which are impossibleto account for and which the natives are as much at a loss to explainas myself. Sometimes a strange sound is heard, like the clang of aniron bar against a hard, hollow tree; or a piercing cry rends theair. These are not repeated, and the succeeding stillness only tendsto heighten the unpleasant impression which they produce on the mind. 

The first thing that claimed our attention, shortly after we started, was a sound of breaking branches and falling leaves, somewhere inthe distance. Through the trees I could perceive that it was a bigdark-grey monkey, which we had alarmed. He was scrambling up a talltree when I fired at him. I evidently missed, for I could see himprepare for a mighty jump to a lower tree where he would be out ofsight. But in the jump he got another load of pellets, which struckhim in the back. His leap fell short of the mark and he landed headlongamong some bushes, kicking violently as I came up to him. As he seemedstrongly built and had a rather savage expression, it did not seemwise to tackle him with bare hands, therefore, as I desired to get himalive, I ran back and procured my focussing cloth, which I tied aroundhis head. Thus I got him safely back to the camp, where he was tiedto a board and the bullets extracted from his flesh. Then his wounds, which were not serious, were bound up and he was put into a cage witha bunch of bananas and a saucer of goat's milk to cheer him up a bit. 

The suddenness with which these monkey delicacies disappeared, convinced me that his complete recovery was a matter of only a shorttime, unless perchance some hungry rubber-worker, surreptitiously, had removed these viands while nobody was looking, for bananas andmilk are things which will tempt any Amazonian from the narrow pathof rectitude; but it was not so in this case. The conviction as torecovery proved right, and with the improvement of his health hedisplayed a cheerful and fond disposition that decided me to takehim back with me to New York when I should go. I have since beeninformed that he belonged to the Humboldt Sika species. I watched himfor several months and came to like him for the innocent tricks henever tired of playing. One night he managed to liberate himself fromthe tree near the hut where he was tied. He disappeared for two days, but on the third he returned, chains and all. He had doubtless foundlife in the jungle trees not altogether cheerful with a heavy chainsecured to his waist, and he had returned reconciled to captivityand regular meals. There is at present one specimen of this kind ofmonkey at the Bronx Zoölogical Gardens in charge of the head keeper. 

At the time of low water, the so-called _prayas_ appear at the bendsof the river; they grow with the accumulation of sand and mud. They arewide and often of a considerable area, and on them the alligators liketo bask in the sunshine of early morning and late afternoon, and the_tartarugas_, or fresh-water turtles, lay their eggs. These eggs arelaid in the months of September and October on moon-lit nights andare somewhat smaller than the ordinary hen's egg, the yolk tastingvery much the same, but they are covered with a tough parchment-likeshell. Here on the upper Amazon the people prepare a favourite mealby collecting these eggs and storing them for two or three weeks, when they tear open the shell and squeeze out the yolks, mixing themall up into a mush with the inevitable farinha. Few people, exceptnative Brazilians, ever acquire a relish for this remarkable dish. 

I spent a whole day waiting for the elusive alligators on one ofthese sand-bars, but evidently they were too wise, for they never camewithin camera-range. I did, however, see some tapir-tracks, leadingdown to the water's edge. After the long wait I grew discouraged, and chose a camping place farther up the river, where I prepareda meal consisting of turtle eggs and river water. The meal was notabsolutely undisturbed, as the air was full of a species of fly thatderives its principal sustenance from the bodies of various deadanimals always to be found through the jungle, whose teeming lifecrowds out all but those fittest to survive. 

I had begun my vigil before sunrise, when there are two or three hoursvery cool and humid. In the dry season the dew which collects is ofthe greatest importance to animal and plant life. For the tired andthirsty wanderer, the calyx of the beautiful scarlet orchid, whichgrows abundantly in this region, contains the refreshment of two orthree ounces of clear, cool water. But you must look carefully intothis cup of nature to see that no insects lurk in its depths to spoilthe draught. 

I have previously described the breakfast table of the millionaireCoronel R. Da Silva, with its black beans, the dreadful farinha, theblack coffee, and the handful of mutilated _bolachas_ or biscuits. Theonly variable factor was the meat, sometimes wild hog, occasionallytapir, and very often the common green parrot or the howling monkey. Atmost meals the _pirarucu_ fish appears, especially on Mondays whenthe rubber-workers have had the whole of Sunday in which to indulgein the sport of shooting this gamy two-hundred-pound fish. They carrytheir _pirarucu_ to headquarters and courteously offer the best cutsto the Coronel, afterwards cutting the rest into long strips andleaving them to dry in the sun. Jerked beef was always to be reliedupon when other supplies ran low. 

There must have been some terrible mystery connected with themilk. There were twenty-one cows on the place, but never a drop ofmilk from them was to be had. I was always afraid to ask any questionsabout this deficiency for fear I might be treading on dangerous ground, but with the lack of any other explanation I ascribe it to continualsickness from which the cattle must probably suffer, in common withevery other living thing here. 

During the month of September, the number of patients from fever, pleurisy, and accidents, at Floresta headquarters, amounted to 82% ofthe population. A fever resembling typhoid resulted in several casesfrom drinking the river-water. The Coronel claimed that MangeromaIndians living in the interior about 150 miles from Floresta hadpoisoned the creeks and affluents of the Itecoahy to take revenge uponthe traders who brought the much dreaded Peruvian rubber-workers upto the Itecoahy River estates. These Peruvians are hated because theyabduct the women of the indigenous tribes, when on their expeditionsfar into the forests where these tribes live, and consequently theyare hunted down and their entrance to the region as far as possibleprevented. 

At this morning hour in New York (Floresta is on the same meridianas New York), thousands of toilers are entering the hot subways andlegions of workers are filing into their offices and stuffy shopsto take their places at the huge machinery which keeps the worldin motion. At the very same hour a handful of rubber-workers arepassing my house, returning from their first trip in the _estradas_, where they have been tapping the trees, and on their way to the hutsand a frugal breakfast. Here in the wilds of Brazil there are nosubways, no worry about the "market, " nor indeed any thought for themorrow. Nature supplies the rubber trees, and the "boss" the tools towork them with; the philosophy of the rubber-worker goes no farther. Ashirt, trousers, and a hat are all the dress that fashion requires, and often the worker even finds the shirt superfluous. He wears apair of overalls, and carries slung over his shoulder his rifle andthe little hatchet for tapping the trees, besides a small rubber bagin which he keeps a supply of farinha and jerked beef, should he beprevented from reaching his hut in regulation time. 

The _seringueiro_ is free in his movements and in his mind, he is aquick and keen observer of nature, and an expert in knowledge of thecries and calls of the animals of the forest. He knows their habitsand hiding-places to perfection, and he could probably astonish thenaturalist by informing him of many things he has observed that hisbrother scientist never has heard of. He knows the names of the treesand plants in the forest and what they can be used for, though hisknowledge of them is often supplemented by superstitious imaginings. Heknows the multitudinous fish of the Amazon, whether they are to becaught with a net, speared, or shot with bow and arrows, or, if thehunter is of a progressive disposition, shot with rifle ball. There arevarieties that have, as yet, not been seen, classified, or identifiedby the scientist of to-day--I am positive of having seen several such. 

The inhabitant of this region is clean in his habits and in his mind assoon as he gets away from the evil influence of civilisation--which forhim is the town of Remate de Males or "Culmination of Evils. " He takesa bath at least twice a day, and attends closely to the cleanliness ofhis wardrobe, which for that matter does not absorb any considerableamount of time. As a rule, he is industrious, but frequent attacks offever, dysentery, liver and spleen complaints, or pneumonia make himin the end, like all living things here not native to the forests, sluggish in general, and irritable on occasion. 

A little distance from the headquarters lies a beautiful lake. It isnot wider than the Itecoahy itself, four hundred feet on an average, and is about five miles long. It runs parallel with the river, and hasonly one outlet. In the dry season this amounts to nothing more than alittle rivulet across which a large fallen tree has formed a naturalbridge, but in January, when the waters rise, the creek is so fullthat the servants of Coronel da Silva can wash the linen there. Aftersome weeks of sojourn at Floresta, I found my way to this lake, and itwas here that I was able to observe some of the largest specimens ofAmazonian reptiles in their haunts, where the equatorial sun had fullopportunity to develop an amazing growth of faunal and floral life. 

It was a most enchanting stretch of water. I had heard of the dangerslurking beneath its surface long before I saw it, so when I arrivedthere one morning I was surprised to find a placid lake, set inpicturesque and romantic surroundings. My first impulse was to exclaim, partly to myself, and partly to the Indian João who accompanied me, "Why, this is Lake Innocence, " so peaceful did it appear. In fact, so much did it charm me that during the remainder of my stay atFloresta there was hardly a day some part of which I did not spendin the immediate vicinity of this lake. But it was treacherous. Itwas the home of six or seven old alligators and of young ones--toonumerous to count; the oldest reaching a length of about seventeenfeet. They would lie perfectly still under the banks, among the deadbranches and snags, which made the shores generally inaccessible toboat or canoe, but when a person approached they would make theirpresence known by violent splashing in the water and repeated loudgrunts, very much resembling those of a walrus. Then they would burrowunder the soft mud and remain quiet for an hour or two. In the earlyforenoon, before the sun became too hot, they would sun themselves, but in the sweltering mid-day hours they remained buried in the mud, and were then very hard to rouse. 

I found, on the shores of the lake, two alligator nests, formed of manytwigs and branches stuck together, half in the water and half in thesoft slimy mud. There they deposited their eggs, oblong tough ones;and one could always count on finding the female in the neighbourhood, should one desire to visit her. I came near stepping on one of thesefemale alligators during a morning hunt with my camera. I was intentlyexamining a group of eggs I found under a cluster of branches, whenI was startled by a splash in the water and a loud grunt. As fastas the muddy ground would let me, I scrambled up the bank, and whenI reached the top I saw the alligator swimming away from the veryspot where I had been standing, its small close-set eyes fastened onme. Then it disappeared in the mud. 

My next encounter occurred one forenoon, when I was sitting closeto the dried-up canal which formed the outlet of the lake. It wasalmost mid-day. I was sitting in the shade, safe from the blazing sun, enjoying a peaceful smoke. The air was fairly vibrating with heat, causing the blood to surge through my veins. Not a sound was heardexcept the irritating buzz of the ever-present mosquitoes. For sometime I had been aware of the slow, stealthy movement of a large bodynear-by, though only half consciously. The heat made me sluggishand sleepy, but suddenly I awoke to the fact that the moving thing, whatever it might be, was near me. Mechanically, I released the"safety" of my automatic pistol, and then realised that out of thereeds near me was creeping a medium-sized alligator. He was makingstraight for the water, and I do not know whether he was cognisant ofmy presence or not. He was moving steadily, advancing a few inches, stopping for a minute, then resuming the journey. I believe I wasnot more than five feet from the head as it emerged from the fringeof reeds. I raised my camera, secured a focus, and snapped theshutter. The click of the apparatus and perhaps my movement drewhis attention. He stopped abruptly. The long jaws opened towardme, displaying an enormous expanse of pink flesh and two rows ofshining teeth. I lost not a second in throwing aside the camera andjumping back to a position of relative safety, whence I fired intothe open mouth of the beast. I killed him. On examining the carcass, I noticed that he had unusually large eyes, indicating that he wasa young specimen. 

A few days later I again went to this lake--which, from my remarks, hadnow come to be generally called "Lago Innocencia"--to catch fish withmy Indian friend João. He carried a bow, four arrows with detachableheads, and a harpoon six feet long. The little boat which we foundclose to the outlet of the lake was pushed away from the shore, weeach seized one of the peculiarly decorated paddles, and were off, looking for finny game. We paddled quietly along near the shore, now and then receiving a bump from some concealed snag which nearlyupset us. It requires considerable skill to navigate one of thesepoorly-made dugouts, the slightest move causing a disproportionateamount of disturbance of equilibrium. 

Suddenly João jumped up, his black eyes glowing with excitement. Hemotioned me to keep quiet, but it was quiet superfluous for him todo this, as I was unable to talk, or even look around, for fear thecanoe might upset. He seized the harpoon, and with a powerful swingsent it into the water ahead of us, at the same time grasping the linewhich was attached to the end. The spear sank deep into the water, and then by the vivacity with which it danced around I could tellthere was something on the end of it. As he began to pull in the line, the struggle became so violent that I crept forward on my knees inthe bottom of the canoe and helped him recover the spear. Only aftersome strenuous balancing feats and a stiff fight by both of us, didwe land our game. It was a large flat fish at least four feet square, with a long whip-shaped tail, at the base of which were two barbedbones each about three and a half inches in length. Our first act wasto sever this tail with a hatchet, as it was far too active to makethe fish a pleasant neighbour in close quarters. When the sting-ray, or, as the Brazilians call it, the _araya_, was dead, I cut out thetwo barbed bones and no longer wondered why these fish are so dreadedby those who know them. João told me that they attack anyone whoventures into the water, and with their sharp, barbed bones inflicta wound that in most cases proves fatal, for the bones are brittleand break off in the flesh. Superstition and carelessness are themain factors that make the wound dangerous; the people believe toomuch in an ever-present evil spirit which abides in all the viciousand fiendish animals of the forest and swamp. Once wounded by any ofthese malignant creatures, they believe there is no hope of recoveryand they hardly try to survive. Besides, lack of proper care andtreatment of a wound generally results in its terminating in a caseof septicaemia and ultimately gangrene. 

I have mentioned the _pirarucu_ several times as being the largestedible fish of the Amazon. When full grown, it attains a weight of twohundred and fifty pounds. In Lake Innocence we saw this remarkablefish feeding close to the shore in shallow water, surrounded by aschool of young ones. The old one was about seven feet in lengthand the others but recently hatched, from nine to ten inches. TheIndian who pointed them out to me stood up in the bow of the canoeand, fitting one of his five-foot arrows to the bow-string, sent itthrough the air and into the head of the big fellow. 

The bow which he used was of his own manufacture. It was about sevenand a half feet long, very tough and straight, and made of Caripariwood. The shafts of the arrows were made of long straight reeds, thestalks of a certain species of wild cane. The detachable part of thearrow is a short but extremely hard piece of wood upon which is fittedan iron head with two barbs. When the point pierces the flesh this hardpiece comes off, but remains attached to the shaft by a short stoutcord. This allows the shaft free play so that it will not break duringthe struggles of the victim. Then there is a line attached to the headitself so that the hunter can handle the struggling animal or fish bymeans of it and of the shaft of the arrow. The whole contrivance isa marvel of ingenuity in meeting the conditions the Amazon hunter iscalled on to face. When the arrow struck this particular _pirarucu_, at close range, he made straight for the shore, hauling the canoeand its contents after him at considerable speed. We got tangledamong the low branches and fought the fish in considerable dangerof being overturned--and I should not at all care to be capsized onLake Innocence. 

Finally, we got our prize ashore. I sent the Indian to headquarters, telling him to go, as fast as he could and bring assistance so thatwe could get the fish home. I myself mounted guard over the carcassto see that neither the turkey buzzards nor the carnivorous mammalsshould destroy it. If we had left it alone for even a short time, we would have found, on our return, little to remind us of itsexistence. The Indian returned shortly with two men. They stuck apole through the great gills of the _pirarucu_ and in this fashioncarried it to the settlement. 

These waters contain great quantities of another and smaller fish knownas the _piranha_, scientifically termed _Serraselmus piraya_. Thisis quite as much dreaded by the natives as the alligator, or even asthe shark along the coast. Its ferocity seems to know no bounds. Itwill attack other fish and bite large pieces out of their fins andtails. Although it is not much larger than the herring it can makefatal attacks on man when in large numbers. 

Mr. C. B. Brown in his work on Guiana gives the following account ofthis fish:

The _piranhas_ in the Corentins were so abundant and were so ferociousthat at times it was dangerous to go into the water to a greater depththan the knees. Even then small bodies of these hungry creatures wouldswim in and make a dash close to our legs, and then retreat to a shortdistance. They actually bit the steering paddles as they were drawnthrough the water astern of the boat. A tapir which I shot as it swamacross the water had his nose bitten off by them whilst we were towingit to the shore. The men used to catch some of them for the sportof it, and in taking the hook from the mouth produced a wound fromwhich the blood ran freely. On throwing them back into the water inthis injured condition, they were immediately set upon and devouredby their companions. Even as one was being hauled in on the line, its comrades, seeing that it was in difficulties, attacked it at once. 

I heard about these fiends but had no opportunity to witness theirferocity until one day, in crossing the river in a dugout, we woundeda wild hog that had also decided to cross at the same time and at thesame place. The man with the stern paddle seized his machete as he sawthe hog swimming close by the port-side of the canoe and stabbed it inthe shoulder, intending to tow it ashore and have a luxurious dinner ofroast hog. But his dream was never realised, for the _piranhas_ whichhad tasted the blood, I suppose, came in large numbers and set uponthe unfortunate hog. In a minute the water seemed to be boiling, sogreat was the activity of the little demons as they tore away pieces ofthe flesh until it was vanishing by inches. When we reached the othershore there was not enough left of the hog to furnish a single meal. 

Later I learned that certain Indian tribes leave their dead in theriver for the _piranhas_ to strip the flesh from the bones. It isthen customary to take the remaining skeleton and let it dry in thesun, after which it is rubbed with the juice of the _urucu_ plant(the _Bixa orellana_), which produces a bright scarlet colour. Thenit is hung up in the hut and the Indians consider that a token ofgreat reverence has been thus bestowed on the deceased. 

Before leaving the subject of fish, I will mention another species, smaller than the _piranha_, yet, although not as ferocious, thecause of much dread and annoyance to the natives living near thebanks of the rivers. In fact, throughout the Amazon this littleworm-like creature, called the _kandiroo_, is so omnipresent that abath-house of a particular construction is necessary. The kandiroo isusually three to four inches long and one sixteenth in thickness. Itbelongs to the lampreys, and its particular group is the Myxinos orslime-fish. Its body is coated with a peculiar mucus. It is dangerousto human beings, because when they are taking a bath in the riverit will approach and with a swift powerful movement penetrate one ofthe natural openings of the body whence it can be removed only by adifficult and dangerous operation. 

A small but hard and pointed dorsal fin acts as a barb and preventsthe fish from being drawn back. While I was in Remate de Males thelocal doctor was called upon to remove a _kandiroo_ from the urethraof a man. The man subsequently died from the hemorrhage followingthe operation. 

Largely through the danger of the attack from this scourge, thoughperhaps not entirely, the natives have adopted the method of bathingin use. A plunge into the river is unheard of, and bath-houses areconstructed so as to make this unnecessary. A hole about eighteeninches square is cut in the middle of the floor--built immediatelyabove the water--through which the bather, provided with a calabashor gourd of the bread-fruit tree, dips water up and pours it overhimself after he has first examined it carefully. The indigenousIndians, living in the remote parts of the forest, do not use thismode of protection, but cover the vulnerable portions of the bodycarefully with strips of bark, which render complete immersionless dangerous. 

During my walks in the forest I often came across snakes ofconsiderable length, but never found any difficulty in killing them, asthey were sluggish in their movements and seemed to be inoffensive. Therubber-workers, who had no doubt had many encounters with reptiles, told me about large _sucurujus_ or boa-constrictors, which had theirhomes in the river not many miles from headquarters. They told methat these snakes were in possession of hypnotic powers, but this, like many other assertions, should be taken with a large grain ofsalt. However, I will relate an incident which occurred while Ilived at Floresta, and in which I have absolute faith, as I had theopportunity of talking to the persons involved in the affair. 

José Perreira. A rubber-worker, had left headquarters after havingdelivered his weekly report on the rubber extracted, and was paddlinghis canoe at a good rate down the stream, expecting to reach hishut before midnight. Arriving at a recess in the banks formed by theconfluence of a small creek called Igarapé do Inferno, or the Creekof Hell, he thought that he heard the noise of some game, probably adeer or tapir, drinking, and he silently ran his canoe to the shore, where he fastened it to a branch, at the same time holding his riflein readiness. Finally, as he saw nothing, he returned to the canoeand continued his way down-stream. 

Hardly more than ten yards from the spot, he stopped again andlistened. He heard only the distant howling of a monkey. This he wasused to on his nightly trips. No! there was something else! He couldnot say it was a sound. It was a strange something that called him backto the bank that he had left but a few minutes before. He fastenedhis canoe again to the same branch and crept up to the same place, feeling very uneasy and uncomfortable, but seeing nothing that couldalarm him--nothing that he could draw the bead of his rifle on. Yet, something there was! For the second time he left, without being ableto account for the mysterious force that lured him to this gloomy, moon-lit place on the dark, treacherous bank. In setting out in thestream again he decided to fight off the uncanny, unexplainable feelingthat had called him back, but scarcely a stone's throw from the bankhe had the same desire to return, --a desire that he had never beforeexperienced. He went again, and looked, and meditated over the thingthat he did not understand. 

He had not drunk _cachassa_ that day and was consequently quite sober;he had not had fever for two weeks and was in good health physically aswell as mentally; he had never so much indulged in the dissipations ofcivilisation that his nerves had been affected; he had lived all hislife in these surroundings and knew no fear of man or beast. And now, this splendid type of manhood, free and unbound in his thoughts andunprejudiced by superstition, broke down completely and hid his facein his hands, sobbing like a child in a dark room afraid of ghosts. Hehad been called to this spot three times without knowing the cause, andnow, the mysterious force attracting him, as a magnet does a piece ofiron, he was unable to move. Helpless as a child he awaited his fate. 

Luckily three workers from headquarters happened to pass on theirway to their homes, which lay not far above the "Creek of Hell, "and when they heard sobbing from the bank they called out. 

The hypnotised _seringueiro_ managed to state that he had threetimes been forced, by some strange power, to the spot where he nowwas, unable to get away, and that he was deadly frightened. Therubber-workers, with rifles cocked, approached in their canoe, fullyprepared to meet a jaguar, but when only a few yards from their comradethey saw directly under the root where the man was sitting the headof a monstrous boa-constrictor, its eyes fastened on its prey. Thoughit was only a few feet from him, he had been unable to see it. 

One of the men took good aim and fired, crushing the head of the snake, and breaking the spell, but the intended victim was completely playedout and had to lie down in the bottom of the canoe, shivering as ifwith ague. 

The others took pains to measure the length of the snake beforeleaving. It was 79 palmas or 52 feet 8 inches. In circumference itmeasured 11 palmas, corresponding to a diameter of 28 inches. Itsmouth, they said, was two palmas or sixteen inches, but how they meanthis to be understood I do not know. 

This event happened while I was living at headquarters. I had along talk with Perreira, but could not shake his statement, nor thatof the three others; nevertheless, I remained a sceptic as to thisalleged charming or mesmeric power of the snakes, at least so far asman is concerned. 

At that time we were awaiting the arrival of the monthly launch fromthe town of Remate de Males, and had spent a day weighing rubberat the camp of one of the employees, half a day's journey fromheadquarters. The rubber-pellets were loaded into our large canoeto take up to Floresta. We spent the evening drinking black coffeeand eating some large, sweet pineapples, whereafter we all took anap lasting until midnight, when we got up to start on our nighttrip. It had been considered best to travel at night, when it wasnice and cool with none of the pestering insects to torture us, andwe were soon paddling the heavy canoe at a merry rate, smoking ourpipes and singing in the still, dark night. Soon we rounded a pointwhere the mighty trees, covered with orchids and other parasiticplants, sent their branches down to the very water which in itsdepths was hiding the dreaded water-snakes. The only sound we heardwas the weird calling of the night-owl, the "Mother of the Moon"as the Indians call it. Except this and the lapping sound of water, as we sped along, nothing disturbed the tranquillity of the night. 

I was in the act of lighting another pipe when one of the mencried out:

"What's this?"

We all stopped paddling and stared ahead at a large dark object, resting on a moon-lit sand-bar not far from us. Then someone said, "_Sucuruju_. " Few people can comprehend the feeling that creeps intoone's heart when this word is pronounced, under such circumstances, in the far-off forest, in the middle of the night. The wordmeans boa-constrictor, but it meant a lot more at this moment. Anindescribable feeling of awe seized me. I knew now that I was to facethe awful master of the swamps, the great silent monster of the river, of which so much had been said, and which so few ever meet in its lair. 

Running the canoe ashore we advanced in single file. I now had achance to inspect the object. On a soft, muddy sand-bar, half hiddenby dead branches, I beheld a somewhat cone-shaped mass about sevenfeet in height. From the base of this came the neck and head of thesnake, flat on the ground, with beady eyes staring at us as we slowlyadvanced and stopped. The snake was coiled, forming an enormous pileof round, scaly monstrosity, large enough to crush us all to death atonce. We had stopped at a distance of about fifteen feet from him, and looked at each other. I felt as if I were spellbound, unable tomove a step farther or even to think or act on my own initiative. 

The snake still made no move, but in the clear moonlight I couldsee its body expand and contract in breathing; its yellow eyesseeming to radiate a phosphorescent light. I felt no fear, nor anyinclination to retreat, yet I was now facing a beast that few menhad ever succeeded in seeing. Thus we stood looking at each other, scarcely moving an eyelid, while the great silent monster looked atus. I slid my right hand down to the holster of my automatic pistol, the 9mm. Luger, and slowly removed the safety lock, at the same timestaring into the faces of the men. In this manner I was less underthe spell of the mesmerism of the snake, and could to some extentthink and act. I wheeled around while I still held control of myfaculties, and, perceiving a slight movement of the snake's coils, I fired point-blank at the head, letting go the entire chamber ofsoft-nose bullets. Instantly the other men woke up from their tranceand in their turn fired, emptying their Winchesters into the hugehead, which by this time was raised to a great height above us, loudly hissing in agony. 

Our wild yelling echoed through the deep forest. The snake uncoileditself and writhing with pain made for the water's edge. By this timewe were relieved of the terrible suspense, but we took care to keepat a respectful distance from the struggling reptile and the powerfullashing of its tail, which would have killed a man with one blow. 

After half an hour the struggles grew weaker, yet we hesitated toapproach even when it seemed quiet and had its head and a portionof its body submerged in the water. We decided to stay through thenight and wait here a day, as I was very anxious to skin the snakeand take the trophy home to the States as a souvenir of a night'sadventure in this far-off jungle of the Amazon. We went up in thebushes and lit a fire, suspended our hammocks to some tree-trunks, and slept soundly not more than ten yards from the dying leviathan. 

We all got up before sunrise, had our coffee in haste, and ran down tosee the snake. It was dead, its head practically shot to pieces. Weset to work, stretching the huge body out on the sand-bar, and byeight o'clock we had the entire snake flat on the ground, ready tomeasure and skin. 

It was a most astonishing sight, that giant snake lying there fulllength, while around it gathered six Amazon Indians and the onesolitary New Yorker, here in the woods about as far from civilisationas it is possible to get. I proceeded to take measurements and usedthe span between my thumb and little finger tips as a unit, knowingthat this was exactly eight inches. 

Beginning at the mouth of the snake, I continued to the end and foundthat this unit was contained eighty-four times. Thus 84 times 8 dividedby 12 gives exactly 56 feet as the total length. In circumference, the unit, the "palma, " was contained 8 times and a fraction, aroundthe thickest part of the body. From this I derived the diameter 2feet 1 inch. 

These measurements are the result of very careful work. I went fromthe tail to the nose over again so as to eliminate any error, and thenasked the men with me also to take careful measurements in their ownmanner, which only confirmed the figures given above. 

Then we proceeded to skin the snake, which was no easy task under thefierce sun now baking our backs. Great flocks of _urubus_, or vultures, had smelled the carcass and were circling above our heads waitingfor their share of the spoils. Each man had his section to work on, using a wooden club and his machete. The snake had been laid on itsbelly and it was split open, following the spinal column throughoutits length, the ventral part being far too hard and unyielding. Abouttwo o'clock in the afternoon we had the work finished and the carcasswas thrown into the river, where it was instantly set upon by thevigilant _piranhas_ and alligators. 

Standing in front of this immense skin I could not withhold my elation. 

"Men, " I said, "here am I on this the 29th day of July, 1910, standingbefore a snake-skin the size of which is wonderful. When I return tomy people in the United States of America, and tell them that I haveseen and killed a boa-constrictor nearly eighteen metres in length, they will laugh and call me a man with a bad tongue. "

Whereupon my friend, the chief, rose to his full height and exclaimedin a grieved tone: "Sir, you say that your people in the north willnot believe that we have snakes like this or even larger. That isan insult to Brazilians, yet you tell us that in your town Nova Yorkthere are _barracãos_ that have thirty-five or even forty stories ontop of each other! How do you expect us to believe such an improbabletale as that?"

I was in a sad plight between two realities of such mighty proportionsthat they could be disbelieved in localities far removed from eachother. 

We brought the skin to headquarters, where I prepared it with arsenicalsoap and boxed it for later shipment to New York. The skin measured, when dried, 54 feet 8 inches, with a width of 5 feet 1 inch. 

Kind reader, if you have grown weary of my accounts of the reptilianlife of the Amazon, forgive me, but such an important role does thislife play in the every-day experience of the brave rubber-workersthat the descriptions could not be omitted. A story of life in theAmazon jungle without them would be a deficient one, indeed. 

There is a bird in the forests, before referred to, called by theIndians "_A mae da lua_, " or the "Mother of the Moon. " It is an owl andmakes its habitation in the large, dead, hollow trees in the depthsof the jungle, far away from the river front, and it will fly out ofits nest only on still, moonlit nights, to pour forth its desolate andmelancholy song. This consists of four notes uttered in a major key, then a short pause lasting but a few seconds, followed by anotherfour notes in the corresponding minor key. After a little while thelast two notes in the minor key will be heard and then all is still. 

When the lonely wanderer on the river in a canoe, or sitting in hishammock, philosophises over the perplexing questions of life, he isassisted in his dreary analysis by the gloomy and hair-raising cryof the mother of the moon. When the first four notes strike his ear, he will listen, thinking that some human being in dire distress issomewhere out in the swamps, pitifully calling for help, but in sopainful a manner that it seems as if all hope were abandoned. Stilllistening, he will hear the four succeeding melancholy notes, sounding as if the desolate sufferer were giving up the ghost in alast desperate effort. The final two notes, following after a briefinterval, tell him that he now hears the last despairing sobs of acondemned soul. So harrowing and depressing is this song that, onceheard, the memory of it alone will cause one's hair to stand on endand he will be grateful when too far away to hear again this sob ofthe forest. 

A surprise was in store for me one day when I visited the domicile ofa rubber-worker living at the extreme end of the estate. I expected tofind a dwelling of the ordinary appearance, raised on poles above theground, but instead this hut was built among the branches of a treesome twenty feet above the level of the earth. I commenced climbingthe rickety ladder leading to the door of the hut. Half-way up afamiliar sound reached my ear. Yes, I had surely heard that soundbefore, but far away from this place. When I finally entered thehabitation and had exchanged greetings with the head of the family, I looked for the source of the sound. Turning round I saw a womansitting at a _sewing-machine_, working on a shirt evidently for herhusband. I examined this machine with great curiosity and found itto be a "New Home" sewing-machine from New York. What journeys andtransfers had not this apparatus undergone before it finally settledhere in a tree-top in this far-off wilderness!

One afternoon while sitting in the office at headquarters discussingAmazonian politics with Coronel da Silva, Francisco, a rubber-worker, came up and talked for a while with the Coronel, who then turned to meand said: "Do you want to get the skin of a black jaguar? Franciscohas just killed one on his _estrada_ while collecting rubber-milk;he will take you down to his _barracão_, and from there he will leadyou to the spot where the jaguar lies, and there you can skin him. "

I thanked Francisco for his information and went for my machete, having my pistol already in my belt. I joined him at the foot ofthe river bank outside the main building, where he was waiting forme in his canoe, and we paddled down-stream to his hut. On our way(he lived about two miles below Floresta) he told me that he waswalking at a good rate on the narrow path of the _estrada_ whenhe was attracted by a growling and snarling in the thicket. Hestopped and saw a black jaguar grappling with a full-grown buck ina small opening between the trees. The jaguar had felled the buckby jumping on its back from the branches of a tree, and, with clawsdeeply imbedded in the neck, broke its spine and opened its throat, when Francisco drew the bead on the head or neck of the jaguar andfired. The jaguar fell, roaring with pain. Francisco was too muchin a hurry to leave the narrow path of the rubber-workers and goto the spot where the victim was writhing in its death agonies, but hastened on for his dinner. Remembering later that the Coronelhad offered an attractive sum of money for any large game they wouldbag for my benefit, and having finished his dinner, he paddled up toheadquarters and reminded the Coronel of the promised reward. Whenwe came to the hut of the rubber-worker a large dog greeted us. Thisdog looked like a cross between a great Dane and a Russian greyhound;it was rather powerfully built, although with a softness of movementthat did not correspond with its great frame. Francisco whistled forthe dog to follow us. He carried his Winchester and a machete, whileI discovered that my pistol had been left unloaded when I hurriedfrom headquarters, so I was armed with nothing but a machete. Afterwalking for nearly half an hour, we slowed down a little and Franciscolooked around at the trees and said that he thought we were on thespot where he had heard the growlings of the jaguar. It was nearinghalf-past five and the sun was low so we launched ourselves into thethicket towards the spot where the jaguar had been killed. 

We advanced rapidly; then slower and slower. The great dog at first hadbeen very brave, but the closer we came to the spot we were lookingfor, the more timid the dog became, until it uttered a fearful yellof fright, and with its tail between its legs slunk back. There wasnothing to do but to leave the contemptible brute alone with its fear, so we pushed ahead. Suddenly we came to the place, but there was nojaguar. There were plenty of evidences of the struggle. The mutilatedbody of a beautiful marsh-deer was lying on the moist ground, pieces offur and flesh were scattered around, and the blood had even spurted onthe surrounding leaves and branches. Francisco had wounded the jaguar, no doubt--at least he said so, but plainly he had not killed it nordisabled it to such extent that it had remained on the spot. 

We commenced searching in the underbrush, for it was evident it couldnot be far off. The bloody track could be followed for some distance;in fact, in one place the thorny roots of the remarkable _pachiuba_palm-tree, the roots that the women here use for kitchen graters, had torn off a bunch of long, beautiful hair from the sides of thejaguar, which very likely was weak and was dragging itself to somecluster of trees where it could be safe, or else to find a point ofvantage to fall upon its pursuers. 

We searched for some time. The forest was growing dark, and the manynoises of the night began. First came the yelping of the toucan, whichsounded like the carefree yap-yap of some clumsy little pup. Thencame the chattering of the night monkeys and the croaking of thethousands of frogs that hide in the swamps. And still no traces of thejaguar. Again we separated. The dog had run home utterly scared. Nowand then we would whistle so as not to lose track of each other. Iregretted that I had been so careless as to leave my ammunitionat home, as it might happen that the wounded and enraged cat wouldspring at us from some dark cluster of branches, and then a machetewould hardly be an adequate weapon. 

We searched for over an hour until it was pitch dark, but, sad torelate, we never found that jaguar. We went home silently. Franciscodid not secure the reward. 

This incident is of no particular interest as the result of theexcursion was nil and our humour consequently very bad. But it servesto show how the mind of man will be influenced by local surroundings, and how it adapts itself to strange customs, and how a novice may beso greatly enthused that he will, half-armed, enter upon a recklesshunt for a wounded jaguar. 

CHAPTER VI

THE FATAL MARCH THROUGH THE FOREST

Thus I lived among these kind and hospitable people for five monthsuntil one day my lust for further excitement broke out again, inducedby a seemingly commonplace notice posted outside the door of thestoreroom. It read: "The men--Marques, Freitas, Anisette, Magellaes, Jerome, and Brabo--are to make themselves ready to hunt caoutchoucin the eastern virgin forest. " Puzzled as to the meaning of this, I consulted the Chief and was informed that Coronel da Silva wasabout to equip and send out a small expedition into the forests, far beyond the explored territory, to locate new caoutchouc trees, which were to be cut and the rubber or caoutchouc collected, whereuponthe expedition was to return to headquarters with these samples and areport on the number of trees observed. This greatly interested me, andI asked the Chief, Marques, whose wife I had operated upon previously, if I could accompany him on this trip. He consented unwillingly, sayingthat it was very dangerous and that the same number of men that wentout never came back. However, this was too rare a chance to let pass, and I made my preparations to accompany the expedition on this journeyinto regions where even the native _caucheros_ had never before been. 

On a Monday morning we all assembled at the Floresta headquarters, where Coronel da Silva bade us good-bye, and at the same time oncemore warned me against venturing on this trip, but I was determinedand could not be persuaded to give it up. 

The expedition consisted of the six men, above mentioned, all, exceptthe Chief, Marques, unmarried. After leaving the main building wewent down to the store-room where we chose the necessary articlesof food--enough to last us for three or four weeks. Our stapleswere to be dried _pirarucu_, the largest fish of the Amazon, somedried or "jerked" beef, and a large quantity of the farinha, theeternal woody and unpalatable meal that figures on every Brazilian'stable. Besides these, we carried sugar, coffee, rice, and severalbottles of "Painkiller" from Fulton Street, N. Y. Hammocks and cookingutensils completed our outfit. I took with me a large plate camera, photographic plates and paper, chemicals, scales and weights; alsoa magnifying glass, a primitive surgical outfit, and a hypodermicneedle with several dozen prepared "ampules. " My men were armed withthe usual . 44 Winchesters and some ancient muzzle-loaders, while Ihad my 9mm. Automatic Luger pistol. When we were fully packed, eachman carried a load weighing eighty-five pounds, strapped by means ofbark strips to the shoulders, with his rifle in his left hand and amachete to clear the path in his right. 

Thus equipped, we left headquarters, not knowing how or when wewould see it again, while the natives fired a farewell salute, wishing us God-speed. 

After a few hours by canoe, up the Itecoahy, we left the river andturned our faces inland. Our way now led through dense forest, but forfour hours we travelled in a region familiar to the rubber-workers, and we were able to follow pathways used by them in their daily work. 

Let no one think that a jungle trail is broad and easy. As I stumbledalong the tortuous, uneven path, in the sweltering mid-day heat, pestered by legions of _piums_ or sand-flies and the omnipresentmosquitoes, climbing, fallen trees that impeded us at every turn, I thought that I had reached the climax of discomfort. Little couldI know that during the time to come I was to look back upon this dayas one of easy, delightful promenading. 

The four hours' march brought us to an open place, apparently aclearing, where the _estrada_ suddenly seemed to stop. Exhausted, I threw myself on the moist ground while the Chief explained ourposition. He said that we were now at the end of the cut _estrada_and that beyond this we would have no path to follow, though he hadsomewhat explored the region farther on the year previous, during asimilar expedition. We found that the undergrowth had been renewedto such an extent that his old track was indistinguishable, and wehad to hew our every step. When we resumed the march I received a morethorough understanding of what the word _jungle_ really means. Ahead ofus was one solid and apparently impenetrable wall of vegetation, butmy men attacked it systematically with their heavy machetes. Slowlywe advanced, but I wondered that we made any progress at all. Theskill of these sons of the forest in cutting a pathway with theirlong knives became a constant wonder to me. Where an inexperiencedperson would have lost himself, looking for a round-about easy course, these men moved straight ahead, hewing and hacking right and left, the play of the swift blades seemingly dissolving all obstacles intheir path. Some idea of the density of the growth can be gatheredfrom the fact that if a man moved off he became instantly invisiblealthough he might be only a yard or two away. 

Late in the afternoon we reached a small hut or _tambo_ built onthe former trip by the Chief. It was nothing but a roof on poles, but it was a welcome sight to us as it meant rest and food. We weretired and hungry and were glad to find a small creek close by wherewe could refresh ourselves, taking care to keep out of the reach ofthe alligators and water-snakes swimming close to the weeds by theshore. For our supper we gave the dried _pirarucu_ flesh a boil andsoaked some farinha in water, eating this tasteless repast with as muchgusto as we would if it had been roast beef. Let me here recommendthis diet for any gourmet whose appetite has been impaired, and hewill soon be able to enjoy a stew of shoe-leather. One of the men, agood-natured athlete, Jerome by name, was sent out after fresh meat, and brought back a weird little animal resembling a fox (_cuti_). Wedecided to test it as a stew, but, lacking salt, we found the dried_pirarucu_ preferable. 

The excitement of the night was furnished by ants, which had builta nest in the _tambo_ where we had swung our hammocks. The visitorsswarmed up poles and down ropes and would not be denied entrance. Wadsof cotton smeared with vaseline and bandaged around the fastenings ofthe hammock proved no obstacle. It was impossible to sleep; mosquitoescame to the assistance of the ants and managed to find their waythrough the mosquito-net. To complete the general "cheerfulness, "the tree-tops were full of little spider-monkeys whispering mournfullythroughout the dark and showery night. 

The second day's march took us through the region which the Chiefhad explored the year before, and we spent the night in another_tambo_ built on that occasion. Our progress, however, was made withincreasing difficulty, as the land had become more hilly and brokenand the forest, if possible, more dense and wild. We were now at aconsiderable distance from the river-front and in a region where theyearly inundation could never reach. This stage of the journey remainsamong the few pleasant memories of that terrible expedition, throughwhat I may call the gastronomic revel with which it ended. Jerome hadsucceeded in bringing down with his muzzle-loader a _mutum_, a birdwhich in flavour and appearance reminds one of a turkey, while I was solucky as to bag a nice fat deer (marsh-deer). This happened at _tambo_No. 2. We called each successive hut by its respective number. Here wehad a great culinary feast, so great that during the following days Ithought of this time with a sad "_ils sont passé, ces jours de fête_. "

Now, guided by the position of the sun, we held a course due west, ourultimate destination being a far-off region where the Chief expectedto find large areas covered with fine caoutchouc trees. The groundwas hilly and interspersed with deeply cut creeks where we could seethe ugly heads of the _jararaca_ snakes pop up as if they were waitingfor us. There was only one way of crossing these creeks; this was byfelling a young tree across the stream for a bridge. A long slenderstick was then cut and one end placed at the bottom of the creek, wheneach man seizing this in his right hand steadied himself over the treeto the other side of the deep treacherous water. It required steadynerve to walk this trunk, such as I did not possess, therefore I foundit safer to hang from the levelled bole by my hands and travel acrossin that manner. _Tambo_ No. 3 we constructed ourselves, as we did everyother for the rest of the journey. We always selected a site near acreek that we were following, and cleared away the underbrush so as toleave an open area of about twenty-five feet square, always allowingone tree to remain for a corner. A framework of saplings tied togetherwith strips of _matamata_ bark was raised for a roof, and across thiswere laid gigantic leaves of the _murumuru_, twenty-five to thirtyfeet long. The hammocks were then strung beneath, and we managed tokeep comparatively sheltered from the nightly rain that always occursin these deep forests. After the frugal meal of _pirarucu_ and driedfarinha, or of some game we had picked up during the march, we wouldcreep into our hammocks and smoke, while the men told hunting stories, or sang their monotonous, unmelodious tribal songs. 

It must have been about two o'clock in the morning when I was awakenedby a terrific roaring which fairly made the forest tremble. Sittingup and staring fearfully into the darkness, I heard the crashingof underbrush and trees close upon us. My first thought was of ahurricane, but in the confusion of my senses, stunned by the impactof sound, I had few clear impressions. My companions were calling oneanother. The noise grew louder, more terrifying. Suddenly the littleworld around me went to smash in one mad upheaval. The roof of the_tambo_ collapsed and fell upon us. At the same instant I felt somehuge body brush past me, hurling me sprawling to the ground. The noisewas deafening, mingled with the shrieks and excited yellings of my men, but the object passed swiftly in the direction of the creek. 

Some one now thought of striking a light to discover the extent ofthe damage. The _tambo_ was a wreck; the hammocks were one tangledmass. Jerome, who had jumped from his hammock when he first heardthe noise, followed the "hurricane" to the creek and soon solvedthe mystery of the storm that swept our little camp. He told us, it was a jaguar, which had sprung upon the back of a large tapirwhile the animal was feeding in the woods behind our _tambo_. Thetapir started for the creek in the hope of knocking the jaguar offits back by rushing through the underbrush; not succeeding in this, its next hope was the water in the creek. It had chosen a straightcourse through our _tambo_. 

The next day we were successful in killing two howling monkeys;these were greeted with loud yells of joy, as we had not been ableto locate any game during the last twenty-four hours' march. This iseasy to understand. We were much absorbed in cutting our way throughthe bushes and the game was scared away long before we could sight it. 

After the ninth day of wearisome journeying, the Chief found signsof numerous caoutchouc trees, indicating a rich district, and it wasaccordingly decided that _tambo_ No. 9 should be our last. We werenow fully 150 miles from the Floresta headquarters and some 120 milesback in the absolutely unknown. That night the temperature went downto 41° Fahrenheit, a remarkable drop so close to the equator and onsuch low ground, but it was undoubtedly due to the fact that the sunnever penetrates the dark foliage of the surrounding dense forestswhere the swamps between the hills give off their damp exhalations. 

Up to this point I had not feared the jungle more than I would havefeared any other forest, but soon a dread commenced to take holdof me, now that I could see how a great danger crept closer andcloser--danger of starvation and sickness. Our supplies were growingscant when we reached _tambo_ No. 9, and yet we lingered, forgetfulof the precarious position into which we had thrust ourselves, andthe violated wilderness was preparing to take its revenge. 

I suppose our carelessness in remaining was due in part to theexhausted state to which we had been reduced, and which made usall rejoice in the comfort of effortless days rather than face newexertions. 

CHAPTER VII

THE FATAL "TAMBO NO. 9"

We were three weeks at _tambo_ No. 9 before the sharp tooth ofnecessity began to rouse us to the precarious situation. Occasionallya lucky shot would bring down a _mutum_ or a couple of monkeys and, on one occasion, a female tapir. Thus feasting to repletion, wefailed to notice that the lucky strikes came at longer intervals;that the animals were deserting our part of the forest. During thesethree weeks we were not wholly idle. The Chief had the men out everyday making excursions in the neighbourhood to locate the caoutchouctrees. As soon as a tree was found, they set to work bleeding thebase of it to let the milky sap ooze out on the ground where it wouldcollect in a small pool. Then they would fell the tree and cut ringsin the bark at regular intervals so that the milk could flow out. Ina few days when the milk had coagulated, forming large patches ofcaoutchouc, they would return for it. The pieces were washed in thecreek and then tied into large bundles ready for transporting. 

In all they located more than 800 caoutchouc trees. At this time too Imade my remarkable discovery of gold deposits in the creek. It seemsto me now like the plot of some old morality play, for while we weresearching eagerly for the thing that we considered the ultimate goalof human desires--wealth, the final master, Death, was closing hisnet upon us day by day. Our food supply was nearly gone. 

While strolling along the shores of the creek in search of game, Inoticed irregular clumps or nodules of clay which had accumulated inlarge quantities in the bed of the stream, especially where branchesand logs had caused whirlpools and eddies to form. They had theappearance of pebbles or stones, and were so heavy in proportion totheir size that my curiosity was aroused, and throwing one of themon the bank I split it open with my machete. My weakened heart thencommenced to beat violently, for what I saw looked like gold. 

I took the two pieces to my working table near our _tambo_, andexamining the dirty-yellow heart with my magnifying glass, I found thefollowing: A central mass about one cubic inch in size, containinga quantity of yellowish grains measuring, say, one thirty-second ofan inch in diameter, slightly adhering to each other, but separatingupon pressure of the finger, and around this a thick layer of hardclay or mud of somewhat irregular shape. It immediately struck methat the yellow substance might be gold, though I could not accountfor the presence of it in the centre of the clay-balls. 

I carefully scraped the granules out of the clay, and washing themclean, placed them on a sheet of paper to dry in the sun. By thistime the attention of the other men had been attracted to what I wasdoing, and it seemed to amuse the brave fellows immensely to watchmy painstaking efforts with the yellow stuff. I produced some finescales I had for weighing chemicals for my photographic work, andsuspended these above a gourd filled with water. Then I went down tothe creek and collected more of the clay-balls and scraped the mud ofone away from the solid centre of what I took to be grains of gold. Afine thread I next wound around the gold ball and this was tied toone end of the balance. After an equilibrium had been established, I found that the weight of the gold was 660 grains. Next I raisedthe gourd until the water reached the suspended ball, causing theopposite pan of the scales to go down. To again establish equilibrium, I had to add 35 grains. With this figure I divided the actual weightof the gold, which gave me 18. 9, and this I remembered was close tothe specific gravity of pure gold. 

Still a little in doubt, I broke the bulb of one of my clinicalthermometers and, placing the small quantity of mercury thus obtainedin the bottom of a tray, I threw a few of the grains into it, andfound that they immediately united, forming a dirty-grey amalgam. Iwas now sure the substance was gold and in less than five hours Icollected enough to fill five photographic 5 × 7 plate-boxes, theonly empty receptacles I could lay my hands on. I could have filled abarrel, for the creek was thick with the clay-balls as far as I couldsee; but I had a continuous fever and this, with the exhaustion fromsemi-starvation, caused me to be indifferent to this great wealth. Infact, I would have gladly given all the gold in the creek for _One_square meal. If the difficulties in reaching this infernal regionwere not so great, I have no doubt that a few men could soon makethemselves millionaires. 

The deadly fever came among us after a few days. It struck a youngman called Brabo first; the next day I fell sick with another seriousattack of swamp-fever, and we both took to our hammocks. For fivedays and nights I was delirious most of the time, listening to themysterious noises of the forest and seeing in my dreams visions ofjuicy steaks, great loaves of bread, and cups of creamy coffee. Inthose five days the only food in the camp was howling monkey, the jerked beef and the dried farinha having given out much to mysatisfaction, as I became so heartily disgusted with this unpalatablefood that I preferred to starve rather than eat it again. At first Ifelt the lack of food keenly, but later the pain of hunger was dulled, and only a warm, drugged sensation pervaded my system. Starvationhas its small mercies. 

I became almost childishly interested in small things. There was apeculiar sound that came from the deep forest in the damp nights;I used to call it the "voice of the forest. " To close one's eyes andlisten was almost to imagine oneself near the murmuring crowd of alarge city. It was the song of numerous frogs which inhabited a creeknear our _tambo_. Then I would hear four musical notes uttered in amajor key from the tree-tops close by, soon answered by another fourin a similar pitch, and this musical and cheerful(!) conversation wascontinued all night long. The men told me that this was the note ofa species of frog that lived in the trees. 

One day the jungle took the first toll from us. Young Brabo was verylow; I managed to stagger out of my hammock to give him a hypodermicinjection, but he was too far gone for it to do him any good. Hedied in the early afternoon. We dug a grave with our machetes rightbehind our _tambo_. No stone marks this place; only a small woodencross tied together with bark-strips shows where our comrade lies--ason of the forest whom the forest claimed again. 

The arrival of Death in our camp showed us all how far we were inthe grasp of actual, threatening danger. We stood about the grave insilence. These men, these Indians of the Amazon, were very human;somehow, I always considered them equals and not of an inferiorrace. We had worked together, eaten and slept and laughed together, and now together we faced the mystery of Death. The tie between usbecame closer; the fraternity of common flesh and blood bound us. 

The next day I arose and was able to walk around, having injected myleft arm with copious doses of quinine and arsenical acid. Borrowingthus false strength from drugs, I was able, to some extent, to roamaround with my camera and secure photographs that I wanted to takehome with me to the States. 

I had constructed a table of stalks of the _murumuru_ palm-leaves, and I had made a sun-dial by the aid of a compass and a stick, much tothe delight of the men, who were now able to tell the hour of the daywith precision. The next day I had another attack of fever and bledmy arm freely with the bistoury, relieving myself of about sixteenounces of blood. Shortly after nine o'clock in the morning I hearda shot which I recognised as being that of Jerome's muzzle-loader;soon afterward he made his appearance with a splendid specimen of ajet-black jaguar, killed by a shot behind the ear. He skinned it afterfirst asking me if I wanted to get up and take a photograph of it, but I was too weak to do it and had to decline. 

The Chief one day brought into camp a fine deer and a _mutum_ bird, which relieved our hunger for a while. As we were preparing a luxuriousmeal, Jerome returned with two red howling monkeys, but we had allthe meat we could take care of, and these monkeys were rejected andthrown away. 

By this time the Chief informed us that enough caoutchouc trees hadbeen located to justify our return to the Floresta headquarterswith a satisfactory report--of course, excepting the death ofpoor Brabo. Furthermore it was decided that owing to the lack ofprovisions we should separate. He directed that the men Freitas, Magellaes, and Anisette should take a course at a right angle to theItecoahy, so as to reach this river in a short time, where they wereto procure a canoe and secure assistance for the rest of us. This, of course, was a chance, but under the circumstances every step wasa chance. The Chief himself, Jerome, and I would retrace the routewhich we had lately travelled and reach Floresta that way. The eveningbefore our departure I did not think myself strong enough to carrymy load a single step, but the hypodermic needle, with quinine, whichhad now become my constant stand-by, lent me an artificial strength, and when the packing was done the next morning, I stood up with therest and strapped the load on my shoulders. 

We parted with the other three men before sunrise, with clasps of thehand that were never to be repeated, and so turned our faces towardthe outer world. My only hope was to retain sufficient strength inmy emaciated, fever-racked body to drag myself back to Floresta, andfrom there, in the course of time, get canoe or launch connectionto the frontier down the river, and then wait for the steamer thatwould take me back to "God's Country, " where I could eat proper food, and rest--rest. 

The jungle no longer seemed beautiful or wonderful to me, buthorrible--a place of terror and death. 

In my drug-dazed sleep on that back-track, I started up in my hammock, bathed in a sweat of fear from a dream; I saw myself and my companionsengulfed in a sea of poisonous green, caught by living creepersthat dragged us down and held us in a deadly octopus embrace. Theforest was something from which I fled; it was hideous, a trap, withits impenetrable wall of vegetation, its dark shadows, and moist, treacherous ground. 

I longed for the open; struggled for it, as the swimmer struggles upfor air to escape from the insidious sucking of the undertow. 

Starving, weak from fever, oppressed by the thought of death, butlashed on by stimulants and the tenacity of life, I headed with mytwo comrades out of the world of the unknown, toward the world ofmen--to _Life_. 

CHAPTER VIII

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FOREST

On the second day of the return trip, we had a remarkableexperience. Probably not more than two hundred yards from the _tambo_where we had spent the night, we heard the noise, as we thought, of atapir, but nothing could surpass our astonishment when we saw a humanbeing. Who could it be that dared alone to disturb the solitude ofthe virgin forest, and who went along in these dreary woods humminga melody?

It was a young Indian who approached us cautiously when Jerome spokein a tongue I did not understand, and evidently told him that we werefriends on the way back to our homes by the river. He was an unusuallyfine specimen of a savage, well built, beautifully proportioned, andwith a flawless skin like polished bronze. His clothing was limitedto a bark girdle, and a feather head-dress not unlike that worn bysome North American Indians. 

He was armed with bow and arrows and a blow-gun; and he had a smallrubber pouch filled with a brownish substance, the remarkable wourahlipoison. He explained to Jerome that his tribe lived in their _maloca_, or tribal house, about 24 hours' march from this place, and that hehad been chasing a tapir all day, but had lost its track, and was nowreturning to his home. He pointed in a north-western direction withhis blow-gun, signifying thereby the general route he was going tofollow in order to reach his destination. We sat down on the groundand looked at each other for quite a while, and thus I had my firstchance of studying a blow-gun and the poisoned arrows, outside amuseum, and in a place where it was part of a man's life. At the timeI did not know that I was to have a little later a more thoroughopportunity of examining this weapon. I asked the Indian, Jeromeacting as interpreter, to demonstrate the use of the gun, to which heconsented with a grin. We soon heard the chattering of monkeys in thetree-tops, and deftly inserting one of the thin poisoned arrows in theten-foot tube he pointed the weapon at a swiftly moving body among thebranches, and filling his lungs with air, let go. With a slight noise, hardly perceptible, the arrow flew out and pierced the left thigh of alittle monkey. Quick as lightning he inserted another arrow and caughtone of the other monkeys as it was taking a tremendous leap throughthe air to a lower branch. The arrow struck this one in the shoulder, but it was a glancing shot and the shaft dropped to the ground. In themeantime the Indian ran after the first monkey and carried it up tome. It seemed fast asleep, suffering no agony whatever; and after fiveor six minutes its heart ceased beating. The other monkey landed on thebranch it was aiming for in its leap, but after a short while it seemeduneasy and sniffed at everything. Finally, its hold on the branchrelaxed, it dropped to the ground and was dead in a few minutes. Itwas a marvellous thing to behold these animals wounded but slightly, the last one only scratched, and yet dying after a few minutes as ifthey were falling asleep. It was then explained to me that the meatwas still good to eat and that the presence of poison would not affectthe consumer's stomach in the least; in fact, most of the game theseIndians get is procured in this manner. I was lucky enough to securea snap-shot of this man in the act of using his blow-gun. It provedto be the last photograph I took in the Brazilian jungles. Accidentsand sickness subsequently set in, and the fight for life became toohard and all-absorbing even to think of photographing. He left usafter an hour's conversation, and we resumed our journey homewards. 

We had a slight advantage in retracing our former path. Although thereedy undergrowth had already choked it, we were travelling overground that we knew, and it was also no longer necessary to delayfor the building of _tambos_; we used the old ones again. 

Jerome had complained for some time of a numbness in his fingersand toes, and also of an increasing weakness of the heart thatmade every step a torment. The Chief and I tried our best to cheerhim up, although I felt certain that the brave fellow himself knewwhat dreadful disease had laid its spell upon him. However, we kepton walking without any words that might tend to lower our alreadydepressed spirits. 

But our march was no longer the animated travel it had been on theway out; we talked like automatons rather than like human, thinkingbeings. Suffering, hunger, and drugs had dulled our senses. Only thewill to escape somehow, the instinct of self-preservation, was fullyawake in us. A sweep of the machete to cut a barrier bushrope orclimber, one foot placed before the other, meant that much nearer tohome and safety. Such was now the simple operation of our stupefiedand tired brains, brains that could not hold one complex thought toits end; too tired--tired!

At nightfall we stumbled into our old _tambo_ No. 7. There was nothought of securing food, no possibility of getting any; we hadbeen too tired to even attempt to shoot game during the day. The twomonkeys which the Indian had killed with his blow-gun were the onlyfood we had and these we now broiled over the camp-fire and devouredfiercely. After this meal, none too good, we slung our hammocks withdifficulty and dropped in. Jerome's numbness increased during thenight. We were up and on the trail again with the dawn. 

In the afternoon we descended a hill to find ourselves confronted bya swamp of unusual extent. The Chief was in the lead as we crossed theswamp and we lost him from our sight for a few minutes. While crossingthis wide, slimy-bottomed place, I noticed a peculiar movement in thewater near me, and soon made out the slender bodies of swamp-snakesas they whipped past among the branches and reeds. These snakes arecalled by the Brazilians _jararacas_ and are very poisonous; however, I had no fear for myself as I wore heavy buffalo-hide boots, but themen walked barefooted, and were in great danger. I cried out a warningto Jerome, who took care to thrash about him. We supposed that we hadpassed this snake-hole without mishap when we rejoined the Chief on"terra firma. " He was leaning over, as we approached him, and heturned a face to us that was stricken with fear. He pointed to theinstep of his right foot and there on the skin were two tiny spots, marked by the fangs of the snake. Without a word we sank to theground beside him in despair. The unfortunate man, with dilated eyesfixed upon the ground, crouched waiting for the coming of the painthat would indicate that the poison was working its deadly course, and that the end was near if something was not done immediately. 

Losing no more time, I cried to Jerome to pour out some gunpowderwhile I sucked the wound. While doing this I fumbled in the spaciouspockets of my khaki hunting-coat and secured the bistoury with whichI made a deep incision in the flesh over the wound, causing the bloodto flow freely. In the meantime, Jerome had filled a measure withblack powder and this was now emptied into the bleeding wound and aburning match applied at once. The object of this was to cauterise thewound, a method that has been used with success in the outskirts ofthe world where poisonous reptiles abound and where proper antidotescannot be had. 

The Chief stood the ordeal without a murmur, never flinching even atthe explosion of the gunpowder. Jerome and I made him as comfortableas possible, and sat sadly by his side watching him suffer and dieby inches. 

It is no easy thing to see a man meet death, but under thesecircumstances it was particularly distressing. The Chief had been a manof a strong constitution particularly adapted to the health-rackingwork of a rubber-hunter. He it was who with his forest-wisdom hadplanned all our moves, and had mapped our course through the blindforest, where a man could be lost as easily as on the open sea. He hadproved himself a good leader, save for the fatal mistake in delayingour return, over-anxious as he was to render his employer, Coronelda Silva, full and faithful service. He was extremely capable, kind, and human, and a good friend to us all. 

We had looked to him for advice in all our needs. He knew the languageof the wild beasts of the forest, he knew a way out of everything, and at home he was a most devoted father. Now, this splendid fellow, the sole reliance, in this vast and intricate maze, of Jerome andmyself, succumbed before our eyes to one of the dangers of themerciless wilderness. He was beyond all hope. Nothing in our powercould to any extent add to the prolongation of his life which slowlyebbed away. About four o'clock in the afternoon his respirations grewdifficult, and a few moments later he drew his last painful breath. Hedied three hours after being bitten by the _jararaca_. For the secondtime during that ill-fated journey I went to work digging a gravewith my machete, Jerome lending me whatever assistance he could inhis enfeebled state. My own condition was such that I had to restand recover my breath with every few stabs of the machete. 

We completed that day's journey late in the afternoon, arrivingat _tambo_ No. 6 after taking almost an hour for the last halfmile. Jerome could now scarcely stand without my assistance. There wasno longer any attempt to disguise the nature of his sickness. He had_beri-beri_, and that meant in our situation not the slightest chanceof recovery. Even with the best of care and nursing his case wouldbe hopeless, for in these regions the disease is absolutely fatal. 

We built a fire and managed to get our hammocks fastened in somefashion, but there was not a scrap of food to be had. The heart-leavesfrom a young palm were chewed in a mood of hopeless desperation. 

The next morning it was a task of several minutes for me to get out ofthe hammock and on my feet. Jerome made several painful efforts and, finally, solved his problem by dropping to the ground. He could notrise until I came to his assistance. Then we two tottering wrecksattempted to carry our heavy loads, but Jerome could not make it;he cast from him everything he owned, even the smallest personalbelongings so dear to his simple, pure soul. It was heartrendingto see this young man, who in health would have been able to handlethree or four of his own size, now reduced to such a pitiful state. 

And in my own case, the fever which I had fought off by constant useof the hypodermic needle, now swept over me with renewed violence. Thedrug did not have the same effect as when I was new to the ravagesof the fever. 

At this point my recollections became almost inextricably confused. Iknow that at times I raved wildly as I staggered on, for occasionallyI came to myself with strange phrases on my lips addressed to no onein particular. When these lucid moments brought coherent thought, it was the jungle, the endless, all-embracing, fearful jungle, thatoverwhelmed my mind. No shipwrecked mariner driven to madness by longtossing on a raft at sea ever conceived such hatred and horror of hissurroundings as that which now came upon me for the fresh, perpetual, monotonous green of the interminable forest. 

About noon the weight on my back became unbearable and I resolved tosacrifice my precious cargo. I threw away my camera, my unexposedplates, all utensils, and four of the boxes of gold dust. Thisleft me with one box of gold, a few boxes of exposed plates (whichI eventually succeeded in carrying all the way back to New York), and fifty-six bullets, the automatic revolver, and the machete. Last, but not least, I kept the hypodermic needle and a few more ampules. 

We had walked scarcely a quarter of a mile when Jerome collapsed. Thepoor fellow declared that he was beaten; it was no use to fight anymore; he begged me to hurry the inevitable and send a bullet throughhis brain. The prospect of another visitation of Death aroused mefrom my stupor. I got him to a dry spot and found some dry leaves andbranches with which I started a fire. Jerome was beyond recognisingme. He lay by the fire, drawing long, wheezing breaths, and his facewas horribly distorted, like that of a man in a violent fit. Hebabbled incessantly to himself and occasionally stared at me andbroke out into shrill, dreadful laughter, that made my flesh creep. 

All this overwhelmed me and sapped the little energy I had left. Ithrew myself on the ground some little distance from the fire, notcaring if I ever rose again. 

How long it was before a penetrating, weird cry aroused me from thisstupor, I do not know, but when I raised my head I saw that the forestwas growing dark and the fire burning low. I saw too that Jerome wastrying to get on his feet, his eyes bulging from their sockets, hisface crimson in colour. He was on one knee, when the thread of lifesnapped, and he fell headlong into the fire. I saw this as througha hazy veil and almost instantly my senses left me again. 

I have no clear knowledge of what happened after this. Throughout therest of the night, my madness mercifully left me insensible to thefull appreciation of the situation and my future prospects. It wasnight again before I was able to arouse myself from my collapse. Thefire was out, the forest dark and still, except for the weird cry ofthe owl, the uncanny "Mother of the Moon. " Poor Jerome lay quiet amongthe embers. I did not have the courage, even if I had had the strength, to pull the body away, for there could be nothing left of his faceby now. I looked at him once more, shuddering, and because I couldnot walk, I crept on all fours through the brush, without any objectin mind, --just kept moving--just crept on like a sick, worthless dog. 

One definite incident of the night I remember quite distinctly. Itoccurred during one of those moments when my senses returned for awhile; when I could realise where I was and how I got there. I wascrawling through the thicket making small, miserable progress, myinsensible face and hands torn and scratched by spines and thornswhich I did not heed, when something bumped against my thigh; Iclutched at it and my hand closed around the butt of my automaticpistol. The weapon came out of its holster unconsciously, but as I feltmy finger rest in the curve of the trigger, I knew that some numbedand exhausted corner of my brain had prompted me to do this thing;indeed, as I weighed the matter with what coolness I could bring tobear, it did not seem particularly wicked. With the pistol in my handand with the safety released, I believed that the rest would have beeneasy and even pleasant. What did I have in my favour? What prospectdid I have of escaping the jungle? None whatever--none!

There was no shadow of hope for me, and I had long ago given upbelieving in miracles. For eight days I had scarcely had a mouthful toeat, excepting the broiled monkey at _tambo_ No. 7, shot by the youngIndian. The fever had me completely in its grasp. I was left alonemore than one hundred miles from human beings in absolute wilderness. Imeasured cynically the tenaciousness of life, measured the thread thatyet held me among the number of the living, and I realised now what thefight between life and death meant to a man brought to bay. I had notthe slightest doubt in my mind that this was the last of me. Surely, no man could have been brought lower or to greater extremity and live;no man ever faced a more hopeless proposition. Yet I could or wouldnot yield, but put the pistol back where it belonged. 

All night long I crawled on and on and ever on, through the underbrush, with no sense of direction whatever, and still I am sure that I didnot crawl in a circle but that I covered a considerable distance. Forhours I moved along at the absolute mercy of any beast of the forestthat might meet me. 

The damp chill of the approaching morning usual in these regions cameto me with a cooling touch and restored once more to some extent mysanity. My clothes were almost stripped from my body, and smeared withmud, my hands and face were torn and my knees were a mass of bruises. 

CHAPTER IX

AMONG THE CANNIBAL MANGEROMAS

I have a vague recollection of hearing the barking of dogs, ofchanging my crawling direction to head for the sound, and then, suddenly, seeing in front of me a sight which had the same effect asa rescuing steamer on the shipwrecked. 

To my confused vision it seemed that I saw many men and women andchildren, and a large, round house; I saw parrots fly across theopen space in brilliant, flashing plumage and heard their shrillscreaming. I cried aloud and fell forward when a little curly-haireddog jumped up and commenced licking my face, and then I knew no more. 

When I came to I was lying in a comfortable hammock in a large, darkroom. I heard the murmur of many voices and presently a man came overand looked at me. I did not understand where I was, but thought thatI, finally, had gone mad. I fell asleep again. The next time I wokeup I saw an old woman leaning over me and holding in her hand a gourdcontaining some chicken-broth which I swallowed slowly, not feelingthe cravings of hunger, in fact not knowing whether I was dead oralive. The old woman had a peculiar piece of wood through her lipand looked very unreal to me, and I soon fell asleep again. 

On the fifth day, so I learned later, I began to feel my sensesreturn, my fever commenced to abate, and I was able to grasp thefact that I had crawled into the _maloca_, or communal village, of the Mangeromas. I was as weak as a kitten, and, indeed, it hasbeen a marvel to me ever since that I succeeded at all in comingout of the Shadow. The savages, by tender care, with strengtheningdrinks prepared in their own primitive method, wrought the miracle, and returned to life a man who was as near death as any one could be, and not complete the transition. They fed me at regular intervals, thus checking my sickness, and when I could make out their meaning, I understood that I could stay with them as long as I desired. 

Luckily I had kept my spectacles on my nose (they were the kind thatfasten back of the ears) during the previous hardships, and I foundthese sticking in their position when I awoke. My khaki coat was on theground under my hammock, and the first thing was to ascertain if theprecious contents of its large pockets had been disturbed, but I foundeverything safe. The exposed plates were there in their closed boxes, the gold dust was also there and mocked me with its yellow glare, and my hypodermic outfit was intact and was used without delay, muchto the astonishment of some of the men, standing around my hammock. 

When my head was clear and strong enough to raise, I turned and beganmy first visual exploration of my immediate surroundings. The big roomI found to be a colossal house, forty feet high and one hundred andfifty feet in diameter, thatched with palm-leaves and with sides formedof the stems of the _pachiuba_ tree. It was the communal residence ofthis entire tribe, consisting, as I learned later, of two hundred andfifty-eight souls. A single door and a circular opening in the roofwere the only apertures of this enormous structure. The door was verylow, not more than four feet, so that it was necessary to creep onone's knees to enter the place, and this opening was closed at night, that is to say, about six o'clock, by a sliding door which fitted sosnugly that I never noticed any mosquitoes or _piums_ in the dark, cool room. 

The next day I could get out of my hammock, though I could notstand or walk without the aid of two women, who took me over to aman I later found to be the chief of the tribe. He was well-fed, and by his elaborate dress was distinguished from the rest of themen. He had a very pleasant, good-natured smile, and almost constantlydisplayed a row of white, sharp-filed teeth. This smile gave me someconfidence, but I very well knew that I was now living among cannibalIndians, whose reputation in this part of the Amazon is anything butflattering. I prepared for the new ordeal without any special fear--myfeelings seemed by this time to have been pretty well exhausted andany appreciation of actual danger was considerably reduced as a resultof the gamut of the terrors which I had run. 

I addressed the Chief in the Portuguese language, which I had learnedduring my stay at Floresta headquarters, and also in Spanish but heonly shook his head; all my efforts were useless. He let me knowin a friendly manner that my hammock was to be my resting-placeand that I would not be molested. His tribe was one that occupiedan almost unknown region and had no connection with white men orBrazilians or people near the river. I tried in the course of themimical conversation to make him understand that, with six companionsfrom a big Chief's _maloca_ (meaning Coronel da Silva and the Florestaheadquarters), I had penetrated into the woods near this mighty Chief's_maloca_, --here I pointed at the Chief--that the men had died fromfever and I was left alone and that luckily, I had found my way tothe free men of the forest (here I made a sweeping movement with myhands). He nodded and the audience was over. I was led back to myhammock to dream and eat, and dream again. 

Although the Chief and his men presented an appearance wholly unknownto me, yet it did not seem to distract me at the first glance, butas my faculties slowly returned to their former activity, I lookedat them and found them very strange figures, indeed. Every man hadtwo feathers inserted in the cartilage of his nose; at some distanceit appeared as if they wore moustaches. Besides this, the Chief hada sort of feather-dress reaching half way down to his knees; thiswas simply a quantity of _mutum_ feathers tied together as a girdleby means of plant-fibres. The women wore no clothing whatever, theironly ornamentation being the oval wooden piece in the lower lip andfancifully arranged designs on face, arms, and body. The colours whichthey preferred were scarlet and black, and they procured these dyesfrom two plants that grew in the forest near by. They would squeezethe pulp of the fruits and apply the rich-coloured juice with theirfingers, forming one scarlet ring around each eye, outside of this ablack and larger ring, and, finally, two scarlet bands reaching fromthe temples to the chin. 

There were probably sixty-five families in this communal hut, all having their little households scattered throughout the placewithout any separating partitions whatever. The many poles whichsupported the roof formed the only way of distinguishing the individualhouseholds. The men strung their hammocks between the poles in such away that they formed a triangle, and in the middle of this a fire wasalways going. Here the women were doing the cooking of game that themen brought in at all times of the day. The men slept in the hammocks, while the women were treated less cavalierly; they slept with theirchildren on the ground under the hammocks around the little familytriangle. As a rule they had woven mats made of grass-fibre andcoloured with the juices of the _urucu_ plant and the _genipapa_, but in many instances they had skins of jaguars, and, which was morefrequent, the furs of the three-toed sloths. These were placed aroundthe family fire, directly under the hammocks occupied by the men. Inthese hammocks the men did most of the repair work on their bows andarrows when necessary, here they fitted the arrow heads to the shafts, in fact, they spent all their time in them when not actually huntingin the forests. 

The hospitality of my friends proved unbounded. The Chief appointedtwo young girls to care for me, and though they were not startlingfrom any point of view, especially when remembering their labialornaments and their early developed abdominal hypertrophies, they wereas kind as any one could have been, watching me when I tried to walkand supporting me when I became too weak. There was a certain broththey prepared, which was delicious, but there were others which werenauseating and which I had to force myself to eat. I soon learnedthat it was impolite to refuse any dish that was put in front of me, no matter how repugnant. One day the Chief ordered me to come over tohis family triangle and have dinner with him. The meal consisted ofsome very tender fried fish which were really delicious; then followedthree broiled parrots with fried bananas which were equally good;but then came a soup which I could not swallow. The first mouthfulalmost choked me, --the meat which was one of the ingredients tastedand smelled as if it had been kept for weeks, the herbs which wereused were so bitter and gave out such a rank odour that my mouthpuckered and the muscles of my throat refused to swallow. The Chieflooked at me and frowned, and then I remembered the forest from whichI had lately arrived and the starvation and the terrors; I closed myeyes and swallowed the dish, seeking what mental relief I could findin the so-called auto-suggestion. 

But I had the greatest respect for the impulsive, unreasoning natureof these sons of the forest. Easily insulted, they are well-nighimplacable. This incident shows upon what a slender thread my lifehung. The friends of one moment might become vindictive foes ofthe next. 

Besides the head-Chief there were two sub-Chiefs, so that in case ofsickness or death there would be always one regent. They were plainlydistinguished by their dress, which consisted mainly of fancifullyarranged feather belts of _arara_, _mutum_, and trumpeter plumescovering the shoulders and abdomen. These articles of dress were madeby young women of the tribe: women who wanted to become favourites ofthe Chief and sub-Chiefs. They often worked for months on a featherdress and when finished presented it to the particular Chief whosefavour they desired. 

The Chiefs had several wives, but the tribesmen were never allowed totake more than one. Whenever a particularly pretty girl desired tojoin the household of the Great Chief or of a sub-Chief, she set towork and for months and months she made necklaces of alligator teeth, peccary teeth, and finely carved ivory nuts and coloured pieces ofwood. She also would weave some elaborate hammock and fringe thiswith the bushy tails of the squirrels and the forest-cats, and whenthese articles were done, she would present them to the Chief, who, in return for these favours, would bestow upon her the great honourof accepting her as a wife. 

There seemed to be few maladies among these people; in fact, duringthe five weeks I spent with them, I never saw a case of fever nor ofanything else. When a person died the body was carried far into thewoods, where a fire was built, and it was cremated. The party wouldthen leave in a hurry and never return to the same spot; they wereafraid of the Spirit of the Dead. They told me that they could hearthe Spirit far off in the forests at night when the moon was shining. 

The men were good hunters and were experts in the use of bow and arrowand also the blow-gun, and never failed to bring home a fresh supplyof game for the village. This supply was always divided equally, so that no one should receive more than he needed for the day. Atfirst glance the men might appear lazy, but why should they hurryand worry when they have no landlord, and no grocer's bills to pay;in fact, the value of money is entirely unknown to them. 

I was allowed to walk around as I pleased, everybody showing me akindness for which I shall ever gratefully remember these "savages. " Ifrequently spent my forenoons on a tree trunk outside the _maloca_with the Chief, who took a particular interest in my welfare. Wewould sit for hours and talk, he sometimes pointing at an objectand giving its Indian name, which I would repeat until I got theright pronunciation. Thus, gradually instructed, and by watchingthe men and women as they came and went, day after day, I was ableto understand some of their language and learned to answer questionsfairly well. They never laughed at my mistakes, but repeated a worduntil I had it right. 

The word of the Chief was law and no one dared appeal from thedecisions of this man. In fact, there would have been nobody to appealto, for the natives believed him vested with mysterious power whichmade him the ruler of men. I once had occasion to see him use thepower which had been given him. 

I had accompanied two young Indians, one of whom was the man we hadmet in the forest on our return trip not far from that fatal _tambo_No. 3. His name, at least as it sounded to me, was Reré. They carriedbows and arrows and I my automatic pistol, although I had no greatintention of using it. What little ammunition I had left I desired tokeep for an emergency and, besides, I reasoned that I might, at somefuture time, be able to use the power and noise of the weapon to goodadvantage if I kept the Indians ignorant of them for the present. 

We had scarcely gone a mile, when we discovered on the oppositeside of a creek, about one hundred and fifty yards away, a wild hogrooting for food. We were on a slight elevation ourselves and undercover of the brush, while the hog was exposed to view on the nextknoll. Almost simultaneously my companions fitted arrows to theirbow-strings. Instead of shooting point blank, manipulating the bowswith their hands and arms, they placed their great and second toeson the cords on the ground, and with their left arms gave the propertension and inclination to the bows which were at least eight feetlong. With a whirr the poisoned arrows shot forth and, while thecords still twanged, sailed gracefully through the air, describinga hyperbola, fell with a speed that made them almost invisible, andplunged into the animal on each side of his neck a little back fromthe base of the brain. 

The hog dropped in his tracks, and I doubt if he could have livedeven though the arrows had not been poisoned. Tying his feet togetherwith plant-fibres we slung the body over a heavy pole and carried itto the _maloca_. All the way the two fellows disputed as to who wasthe owner of the hog, and from time to time they put the carcass onthe ground to gesticulate and argue. I thought they would come toblows. When they appealed to me I declared that the arrows had spedso rapidly that my eyes could not follow them and therefore couldnot tell which arrow had found its mark first. 

A few yards from the house my friends fell to arguing again, and acrowd collected about them, cheering first the one then the other. Mysuggestion that the game be divided was rejected as showing verypoor judgment. Finally, the dispute grew to such proportions that theChief sent a messenger to learn the cause of the trouble and reportit to him. 

The emissary retired and the crowd immediately began to disperse andthe combatants quieted. The messenger soon returned saying that theGreat Chief would judge the case and ordered the men to enter the_maloca_. With some difficulty the hog was dragged through the dooropening and all the inhabitants crawled in after. The Chief was deckedout in a new and splendid feather dress, his face had received a freshcoat of paint (in fact, the shells of the _urucu_ plant with which hecoloured his face and body scarlet were still lying under his hammock), and his nose was supplied with a new set of _mutum_ feathers. He wassitting in his hammock which was made of fine, braided, multi-colouredgrass-fibres and was fringed with numerous squirrel tails. The wholepicture was one which impressed me as being weirdly fantastic andextremely picturesque, the reddish, flickering light from the firesadding a mystic colour to the scene. On the opposite side of the firefrom where the Chief was sitting lay the body of the hog, and at eachend of the carcass stood the two hunters, straight as saplings, gazingstolidly ahead. In a semi-circle, facing the Chief and surrounding thedisputants, was the tribe, squatting on the ground. The Chief motionedto me to seat myself on the ground alongside of the hammock where hewas sitting. The men told their story, now and then looking to me foran affirmative nod of the head. After having listened to the argumentof the hunters for a considerable time without uttering a syllable, andregarding the crowd with a steady, unblinking expression, with a traceof a satirical smile around the corners of his mouth, which suited himadmirably, the Chief finally spoke. He said, "The hog is mine. --Go!"

The matter was ended with this wise judgment, and there seemed to beno disposition to grumble or re-appeal to the great authority. 

My life among the Mangeromas was, for the greater part, free fromadventure, at least as compared with former experiences, and yet I wasmore than once within an inch of meeting death. In fact, I think thatI looked more squarely in the eyes of death in that peaceful littlecommunity than ever I did out in the wilds of the jungle or in my mostperilous adventures. The creek that ran near the _maloca_ suppliedthe Indians with what water they needed for drinking purposes. Besidesthis the creek gave them an abundant supply of fish, a dish that madeits appearance at every meal. Whatever washing was to be done--thenatives took a bath at least twice a day--was done at some distancedown the creek so as not to spoil the water for drinking and culinarypurposes. Whenever I was thirsty I was in the habit of stooping downat the water's edge to scoop the fluid up in my curved hands. Onemorning I had been tramping through the jungle with two companionswho were in search of game, and I was very tired and hot when wecame to a little stream which I took to be the same that ran past the_maloca_. My friends were at a short distance from me, beating theirway through the underbrush, when I stooped to quench my thirst. Thecool water looked to me like the very Elixir of Life. At that moment, literally speaking, I was only two inches from death. Hearing a sharpcry behind me I turned slightly to feel a rough hand upon my shouldersand found myself flung backwards on the ground. 

"Poison, " was the reply to my angry question. Then my friend explained, and as he talked my knees wobbled and I turned pale. It seems thatthe Mangeromas often poison the streams below the drinking placesin order to get rid of their enemies. In the present case therehad been a rumour that a party of Peruvian rubber-workers might becoming up the creek, and this is always a signal of trouble amongthese Indians. Although you cannot induce a Brazilian to go into theIndian settlements or _malocas_, the Peruvians are more than willingto go there, because of the chance of abducting girls. To accomplishthis, a few Peruvians sneak close to the _maloca_ at night, force thedoor, which is always bolted to keep out the Evil Spirit, but whichwithout difficulty can be cut open, and fire a volley of shots intothe hut. The Indians sleep with the blow-guns and arrows suspendedfrom the rafters, and before they can collect their sleepy sensesand procure the weapons the Peruvians, in the general confusion, have carried off some of the girls. The Mangeromas, therefore, hatethe Peruvians and will go to any extreme to compass their death. Thepoisoning of the rivers is effected by the root of a plant that isfound throughout the Amazon valley; the plant belongs to the genus_Lonchocarpus_ and bears a small cluster of bluish blossoms whichproduce a pod about two inches in length. It is only the yellow rootsthat are used for poisoning the water. This is done by crushing theroots and throwing the pulp into the stream, when all animal lifewill be killed or driven away. 

It seems strange that during my stay among the Mangeromas, who wereheathens and even cannibals, I saw no signs of idolatry. They believedimplicitly in a good and an evil spirit. The good spirit was too goodto do them any harm and consequently they did not bother with him;but the evil spirit was more active and could be heard in the darknights, howling and wailing far off in the forest as he searched forlonely wanderers, whom he was said to devour. 

Thinking to amuse some of my friends, I one day kindled a flame bymeans of my magnifying glass and a few dry twigs. A group of ten ortwelve Indians had gathered squatting in a circle about me, to seethe wonder that I was to exhibit, but at the sight of smoke followedby flame they were badly scared and ran for the house, where theycalled the Chief. He arrived on the scene with his usual smile. 

He asked me to show him what I had done. I applied the focussed raysof the sun to some more dry leaves and twigs and, finally, the flamesbroke out again. The Chief was delighted and begged me to make him apresent of the magnifier. As I did not dare to refuse, I showed himhow to use it and then presented it with as good grace as I could. 

Some time after this, I learned that two Peruvians had been caughtin a trap set for the purpose. The unfortunate men had spent a wholenight in a pit, nine feet deep, and were discovered the next forenoonby a party of hunters, who immediately killed them with unpoisoned, big-game arrows. In contrast to the North-American Indians they nevertorture captives, but kill them as quickly as possible. 

I had plenty of opportunity to investigate the different kindsof traps used by the Mangeromas for catching Peruvian _caboclos_or half-breeds. First of all in importance is the pit-trap, intowhich the aforesaid men had fallen. It is simple but ingenious in itsarrangement. A hole about nine feet deep and eight feet wide is dugin the ground at a place where the _caboclos_ are liable to come. Acover is laid across this and cleverly disguised with dead leaves andbranches so as to exactly resemble the surrounding soil. This coveris constructed of branches placed parallel, and is slightly smallerthan the diameter of the pit. It is balanced on a stick, tied acrossthe middle in such a manner that the slightest weight on any part willcause it to turn over and precipitate the object into the pit whenceegress is impossible. Besides this, the walls of the pit are inclined, the widest part being at the bottom, and they gradually slope inwardtill the level of the ground is reached. When the victim is discoveredhe is quickly killed, as in the case noted above. 

The second trap, which I had an opportunity to investigate, is theso-called _araya_ trap. It is merely a small piece of ground thicklyset with the barbed bones of the sting-ray. These bones are slightlytouched with wourahli poison and, concealed as they are under deadleaves, they inflict severe wounds on the bare feet of the _caboclos_, and death follows within a short period. 

The third trap, and the most ingenious of all, is the blow-guntrap. One day the sub-Chief, a tall, gloomy-looking fellow, took meto one of these traps and explained everything, till I had obtaineda thorough knowledge of the complicated apparatus. The blow-gun ofthese Indians is supplied with a wide mouth-piece and requires butslight air pressure to shoot the arrow at a considerable speed. Inthe trap one is placed horizontally so as to point at a right angleto the path leading to the _maloca_. At the "breech" of the gun is ayoung sapling, severed five feet above the ground. To this is tied abroad and straight bark-strip which, when the sapling is in its normalvertical position, completely covers the mouth-piece. The gun wasnot loaded on this occasion, as it had been accidentally dischargedthe day before. To set the trap, a long, thin, and pliable climber, which in these forests is so plentiful, is attached to the end ofthe severed sapling, when this is bent to its extreme positionand is then led over branches, serving as pulleys, right acrossthe path and directly in front of the mouth of the blow-gun andis tied to some small root covered with leaves. When the _caboclo_passes along this path at night to raid the Indian _maloca, _ he mustsever this thin bushrope or climber, thereby releasing suddenly thetension of the sapling. The bark-flap is drawn quickly up againstthe mouth-piece with a slap that forces sufficient air into the gunto eject the arrow. All this takes place in a fraction of a second;a slight flapping sound is heard and the arrow lodges in the skin ofthe unfortunate _caboclo_. He can never walk more than twenty yards, for the poison rapidly paralyses his limbs. Death follows in lessthan ten minutes. 

The bodies of these captured _caboclos_ are soon found by the"police warriors" of the tribe and carried to the _maloca_. On suchoccasions a day of feasting always follows and an obscure religiousrite is performed. 

It is true that the Mangeromas are cannibals, but at the same timetheir habits and morals are otherwise remarkably clean. Without theirgood care and excellent treatment, I have no doubt I would now bewith my brave companions out in that dark, green jungle. 

But to return to my story of the two Peruvians caught in the pit-trap:the warriors cut off the hands and feet of both corpses, pulledthe big game arrows out of the bodies, and had an audience with theChief. He seemed to be well satisfied, but spoke little, just noddinghis head and smiling. Shortly after the village prepared for a grandfeast. The fires were rebuilt, the pots and jars were cleaned, and ascene followed which to me was frightful. Had it not happened, I shouldalways have believed this little world out in the wild forest an ideal, pure, and morally clean community. But now I could only hasten to myhammock and simulate sleep, for I well knew, from previous experience, that otherwise I would have to partake of the meal in preparation: ahorrible meal of human flesh! It was enough for me to see them stripthe flesh from the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet andfry these delicacies in the lard of tapir I hoped to see no more. 

An awful thought coursed through my brain when I beheld the men bendeagerly over the pans to see if the meat were done. How long would itbe, I said to myself, before they would forget themselves and placemy own extremities in the same pots and pans. Such a possibilitywas not pleasant to contemplate, but as I had found the word ofthese Indians to be always good, I believed I was safe. They werenever false and they hated falsehood. True, they were cunning, butonce their friend always their friend, through thick and thin. Andthe Chief had promised that I should not be eaten, either fried orstewed! Therefore I slept in peace. 

I had long desired to see the hunters prepare the mysterious wourahlipoison, which acts so quickly and painlessly, and which allows thegame killed by it to be eaten without interfering with the nutritivequalities. Only three men in this village understood the proper mixingof the ingredients, although everybody knew the two plants from whichthe poisonous juices were obtained. One of these is a vine that growsclose to the creeks. The stem is about two inches in diameter andcovered with a rough greyish bark. It yields several round fruits, shaped like an apple, containing seeds imbedded in a very bitterpulp. The other is also a vine and bears small bluish flowers, but itis only the roots of this that are used. These are crushed and steepedin water for several days. The three men in our village who understoodthe concoction of this poison collected the plants themselves oncea month. When they returned from their expedition they set to workat once scraping the first named vine into fine shavings and mixingthese in an earthen jar with the crushed pulp of the roots of thesecond plant. The pot is then placed over a fire and kept simmeringfor several hours. At this stage the shavings are removed and thrownaway as useless and several large black ants, the _Tucandeiras_, areadded. This is the ant whose bite is not only painful but absolutelydangerous to man. The concoction is kept boiling slowly until thenext morning, when it has assumed a thick consistency of a browncolour and very bitter to the taste. The poison is then tried on somearrows and if it comes up to the standard it is placed in a smallearthen jar which is covered with a piece of animal skin and it isready for use. The arrows, which are from ten to twelve inches long, are made from the stalks of a certain palm-leaf, the Jacy palm. Theyare absolutely straight and true; in fact, they resemble very mucha lady's hat-pin. When the gun is to be used, a piece of cotton iswound around the end of an arrow and the other end or point insertedfirst in the barrel, the cotton acting as a piston by means of whichthe air forces the shaft through the tube. 

The men always carry a small rubber-pouch containing a few drams ofthe poison; the pouch was worn strapped to the waist on the left side, when on their hunting excursions, and they were extremely carefulin handling it and the arrows. The slightest scratch with the poisonwould cause a quick and sure death. 

I was so far recuperated by this time that I thought of returning tocivilisation, and I, accordingly, broached the subject to the Chief, who answered me very kindly, promising that he would send me by thenext full-moon, with some of the wourahli men, down to the BrancoRiver, and from there they would guide me within a safe distance ofthe rubber-estate, situated at the junction with the Itecoahy. 

One day I was informed that a friendly call on a neighbouring tribe wasbeing contemplated and that I could accompany the Chief and his men. 

At last the time arrived and the expedition was organised. I was notabsolutely sure how I would be treated by these up-stream Indians, and I am almost ashamed to confess that, in spite of all the faithful, unswerving friendship which the Mangeromas had shown me, I had it inmy mind that these other Indians might harm me, so black was the namethat people down at the settlements had given them. 

Until this time, as related above, I had thought best not to exhibitthe character of my automatic pistol, and I had never used it here, but before I started on this journey I decided to give them anexample of its power, and possibly awe them. Inviting the Chief andall the tribe to witness my experiment, I explained to them thatthis little weapon would make a great noise and bore a hole througha thick tree. The Chief examined it gingerly after I had locked thetrigger mechanism. He had heard of such arms, he said, but thoughtthat they were much larger and heavier. This one, he thought, mustbe a baby and he was inclined to doubt its power. 

Selecting an "assai" palm of about nine inches diameter, across thecreek, I took steady aim and fired four bullets. Three of the bulletswent through the same hole and the fourth pierced the trunk of thepalm about two inches higher. The Chief and his men hurried across thecreek and examined the holes which caused then to discuss the affairfor more than an hour. The empty shells which had been ejected from themagazine were picked up by two young girls who fastened them in theirears with wire-like fibres, whereupon a dozen other women surroundedme, beseeching me to give them also cartridge-shells. I dischargedmore than a dozen bullets, to please these children of the forest, who were as completely the slaves of fashion as are their sisters ofmore civilised lands. 

Early the next morning we started up the river. In one canoe theChief and I sat on jaguar skins, while two men paddled. In anothercanoe were four men armed with bows and arrows and blow-guns, and afifth who acted in the capacity of "Wireless Operator. " The systemof signalling which he employed was by far the most ingenious deviceI saw while in Brazil, and considering their resources and their lowstate of culture the affair was little short of marvellous. 

Before the canoes were launched, a man fastened two upright forkedsticks on each side of one, near the middle. About three and ahalf feet astern of these a cross-piece was laid on the bottom ofthe craft. To this was attached two shorter forked sticks. Betweeneach pair of upright forked sticks was placed another cross-piece, thus forming two horizontal bars, parallel to each other, one onlya few inches from the bottom of the boat and the other about a footand a half above the gunwales. Next, four slabs of Caripari wood ofvarying thickness, about three feet long and eight inches wide, weresuspended from these horizontal bars, so as to hang length-wise ofthe canoe and at an angle of forty-five degrees. Each pair of slabswas perforated by a longitudinal slit and they were joined firmly attheir extremities by finely carved and richly painted end-pieces. 

The operator strikes the slabs with a wooden mallet or hammer, thehead of which is wrapped with an inch layer of caoutchouc and thenwith a cover of thick tapir-skin. Each section of the wooden slabsgives forth a different note when struck, a penetrating, xylophonic, tone but devoid of the disagreeably metallic, disharmonic bysounds ofthat instrument. The slabs of wood were suspended by means of thinfibre-cords from the crosspieces, and in this manner all absorptionby the adjacent material was done away with. 

By means of many different combinations of the four notes obtainedwhich, as far as I could ascertain, were _Do--Re--Mi--Fa_, theoperator was able to send any message to a person who understoodthis code. The operator seized one mallet with each hand and gavethe thickest section, the _Do_ slat, a blow, followed by a blow withthe left hand mallet on the _Re_ slat; a blow on the _Mi_ slat and onthe _Fa_ slat followed in quick succession. These four notes, givenrapidly and repeated several times, represented the tuning up of the"wireless, " calculated to catch the attention of the operator at the_maloca_ up-creek. The sound was very powerful, but rather pleasant, and made the still forest resound with a musical echo. He repeated thistuning process several times, but received no answer and we proceededfor a mile. Then we stopped and signalled again. Very faintly camea reply from some invisible source. I learned afterwards that atthis time we were at least five miles from the answering station. Assoon as communication was thus established the first message was sentthrough the air, and it was a moment of extreme suspense for me whenthe powerful notes vibrated through the depth of the forest. I shallnever forget this message, not only because it was ethnographicallyinteresting, but because so much of my happiness depended upona favourable reply. I made the operator repeat it for my benefitwhen we later returned to our village, and I learned it by heart bywhistling it. When printed it looks like this:

After each message the operator explained its meaning. The purportof this first message was so important to me that I awaited thetranslation with much the same feelings that a prisoner listens forthe verdict of the jury when it files back into the court-room. 

Questions and answers now came in rapid succession. "A white manis coming with us; he seems to have a good heart, and to be of goodcharacter. "

Whereupon the deciding answer was translated: "You are all welcomeprovided you place your arms in the bottom of the canoe. "

Next message: "We ask you to place your arms in the _maloca_; weare friends. "

After the last message we paddled briskly ahead, and at the end ofone hour's work we made a turn of the creek and saw a large openspace where probably five hundred Indians had assembled outside oftwo round _malocas_, constructed like ours. How much I now regrettedleaving my precious camera out in the forest, but that was a thing ofthe past and the loss could not be repaired. The view that presenteditself to my eyes was a splendid and rare one for a civilised manto see. The crowd standing on the banks had never seen a white manbefore; how would they greet me?

Little dogs barked, large scarlet _araras_ screamed in the tree-tops, and the little children hid themselves behind their equally fearfulmothers. The tribal Chief, a big fellow, decorated with squirrel tailsand feathers of the _mutum_ bird around, his waist and with the tailfeathers of the scarlet and blue _arara_-parrot adorning his handsomehead, stood in front with his arms folded. 

We landed and the operator dismantled his musical apparatus and laidit carefully in the bottom of the canoe. The two Chiefs embraced eachother, at the same time uttering their welcome greeting "_He--He_. " Iwas greeted in the same cordial manner and we all entered the Chief's_maloca_ in a long procession. Here in the village of the kindredtribe we stayed for two days, enjoying unlimited hospitality andkindness. Most of the time was spent eating, walking around the_malocas_, looking at dugouts, and at the farinha plants. 

On the third day we went back to our _maloca_ where I prepared formy return trip to civilisation. It was now the beginning of October. 

I would, finally, have recorded many words of the Mangeroma languagehad not my pencil given out after I had been there a month. Thepencil was an "ink-pencil, " that is, a pencil with a solid "lead" ofbluish colour, very soft, sometimes called "indelible pencil. " Thislead became brittle from the moisture of the air and broke intofragments so that I could do nothing with it, and my recording wasat an end. Fortunately I had made memoranda covering the life andcustoms before this. 

CHAPTER X

THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE MANGEROMAS AND THE PERUVIANS

I was sitting outside the _maloca_ writing my observations in thenote-book which I always carried in my hunting-coat, when two younghunters hurried toward the Chief, who was reclining in the shade ofa banana-tree near the other end of the large house. It was earlyafternoon, when most of the men of the Mangeromas were off hunting inthe near-by forests, while the women and children attended to variousduties around the village. Probably not more than eight or ten menremained about the _maloca_. 

I had recovered from my sickness and was not entirely devoid ofa desire for excitement--the best tonic of the explorer. The twoyoung hunters with bows and arrows halted before the Chief. Theywere gesticulating wildly; and although I could not understand whatthey were talking about, I judged from the frown of the Chief thatsomething serious was the matter. 

He arose with unusual agility for a man of his size, and shoutedsomething toward the opening of the _maloca_, whence the men weresoon seen coming with leaps and bounds. Anticipating trouble, Ialso ran over to the Chief, and, in my defective Mangeroma lingo, inquired the cause of the excitement. He did not answer me, but, in a greater state of agitation than I had previously observed inhim, he gave orders to his men. He called the "wireless" operatorand commanded him to bring out his precious apparatus. This was soonfastened to the gunwales of the canoe where I had seen it used before, on my trip to the neighbouring tribe, and soon the same powerful, xylophonic sounds vibrated through the forest. It was his intentionto summon the hunters that were still roaming around the vicinity, bythis "C. Q. D. " message. The message I could not interpret nor repeat, although it was not nearly as complex as the one I had learnedbefore. After a while, the men came streaming into the _maloca_from all directions, with anxiety darkening their faces. I had now myfirst inkling of what was the cause of the commotion, and it did nottake me long to understand that we were in danger from some Peruvian_caboclos_. The two young men who had brought the news to the Chiefhad spied a detachment of Peruvian half-breeds as they were campingin our old _tambo_ No. 6, the one we had built on our sixth day outfrom Floresta. There were about a score of them, all ugly _caboclos_, or half-breed _caucheros_, hunting rubber and no doubt out also forprey in the shape of young Mangeroma girls, as was their custom. Thetraps set by the Indians, as described in a previous chapter, wouldbe of no avail in this case, as the number of Peruvians was greaterthan in any previous experience. 

The enemy had been observed more than ten miles off, in an easterlydirection, when our two hunters were on the trail of a largeherd of peccaries, or wild boars, they had sighted in the earlymorning. The Peruvians were believed to be heading for the _maloca_of the Mangeromas, as there were no other settlements in this regionexcepting the up-creek tribe, but this numbered at least five hundredsouls, and would be no easy prey for them. 

I now had a remarkable opportunity to watch the war preparationsof these savage, cannibal people, my friends, the Mangeromas. Theirarmy consisted of twelve able-bodied men, all fine muscular fellows, about five feet ten in height, and bearing an array of vicious-lookingweapons such as few white men have seen. First of all were threeclub-men, armed with strong, slender clubs, of hard and extremelytough Caripari wood. The handle, which was very slim, was providedwith a knob at the end to prevent the club from slipping out of thehand when in action. The heavy end was furnished with six bicuspidteeth of the black jaguar, embedded in the wood and projecting abouttwo inches beyond the surface. The club had a total length of fivefeet and weighed about eight pounds. The second division of thewild-looking band consisted of three spear-men, each provided withthe three-pronged spears, a horrible weapon which always proves fatalin the hands of these savages. It is a long straight shaft of Caripariwood, about one inch in thickness, divided into three parts at the end, each division being tipped with a barbed bone of the sting-ray. Thesebones, about three and a half inches long, were smeared with wourahlipoison, and thus rendered absolutely fatal even when inflicting onlya superficial wound. Each man carried two of these spears, the pointsbeing protected by grass-sheaths. The third division was composedof three bow-and-arrow men, the youngest men in the tribe, boys ofsixteen and seventeen. They were armed with bows of great length, from six to seven feet, and each bore, at his left side, a quiver, containing a dozen big-game arrows fully five feet long. These arrows, as far as I could ascertain, were not poisoned, but their shock-givingand rending powers were extraordinary. The arrow-heads were all madeof the bones of the sting-ray, in themselves formidable weapons, because of the many jagged barbs that prevent extraction from a woundexcept by the use of great force, resulting in ugly laceration. 

The fourth and last division consisted of three blow-gun men, themost effective and cunning of this deadly and imposing array. As somuch depended upon the success of a first attack on the Peruvians, who not only outnumbered us, but also were armed with Winchesters, the blow-guns were in the hands of the older and more experiencedmen. All, except the club-men, wore, around the waist, girdles fringedwith _mutum_ plumes, and the captains added, to their uniformsmulti-coloured fringes of squirrel tails. Their faces all had theusual scarlet and black stripes. The Chief, and his principal aide, orsub-Chief, had on their gayest feathers, including head ornaments of_arara_ plumes and egrets. The club-men were naked, except for theirhead-gear, which consisted simply of a band of _mutum_ plumes. Whenthe warriors stood together in their costumes, ready for battle, they presented an awe-inspiring sight. 

The Chief gave the order for the bow-and-arrow men to start in singlefile, the others to follow after, in close succession. The Chief and Ifell in at the rear. In the meantime I had examined my Luger automaticpistol to make sure of the smooth action of the mechanism, and foundbesides that I had in all thirty-seven soft-nose bullets. This was myonly weapon, but previous narrow escapes from death and many closecontacts with danger had hardened me, so I was willing to dependentirely upon my pistol. The women and children of the _maloca_ stoodaround, as we disappeared in the jungle, and, while they showed someinterest in the proceeding, they displayed little or no emotion. Acouple of sweethearts exchanged kisses as composedly as if they hadbeen bluecoats parting with the ladies of their choice before goingto the annual parade. 

Soon we were in the dark, dense jungle that I was now so wellacquainted with, and, strange to say, the green and tangled mass ofvegetation contained more terrors for me than the bloody combat thatwas to follow. 

For an hour we travelled in a straight line, pushing our way asnoiselessly as possible through the thick mass of creepers andlianas. About three o'clock, one of the scouts sighted the Peruvians, and our Chief decided that an attack should be made as soon aspossible, before darkness could set in. We stopped and sent out twobow-and-arrow men to reconnoitre. An anxious half hour passed beforeone of them returned with the report that the Peruvians were nowcoming towards us and would probably reach our position in a fewminutes. I could almost hear my heart thump; my knees grew weak, and for a moment I almost wished that I had stayed in the _maloca_. 

The Chief immediately directed certain strategic movements which, in ingenuity and foresight, would have been worthy of a Napoleon. 

We were between two low hills, covered with the usual dense vegetation, which made it impossible to see an advancing enemy at a distance ofmore than five yards. The three blow-gun men were now ordered to ascendthe hills on each side of the valley and conceal themselves abouthalf-way up the slopes, and towards the enemy. They were to insert thepoisoned arrows in their guns and draw a bead on the Peruvians as theycame on cutting their way through the underbrush. The bow-and-arrowmen posted themselves farther on about five yards behind the blow-gunmen, with big-game arrows fitted to the bowstrings, ready to shootwhen the first volley of the deadly and silent poisoned arrows hadbeen fired. Farther back were the spear-men with spears unsheathed, and finally came the three brave and ferocious club-men. Of these lastwarriors, a tall athlete was visibly nervous, not from fear but fromanticipation. The veins of his forehead stood out, pulsating with everythrob of his heart. He clutched the heavy club and continually grittedhis white, sharp-filed teeth in concentrated rage. It was wiselycalculated that the Peruvians would unconsciously wedge themselvesinto this trap, and by the time they could realise their danger theirreturn would be cut off by our bow-and-arrow men in their rear. 

After a pause that seemed an eternity to most of us no doubt, for thesavage heart beats as the white man's in time of danger and action, we heard the talking and shouting of the enemy as they advanced, following the natural and easiest route between the hills and cuttingtheir way through the brush. I stood near the Chief and the youngclub-man Arara, who, on account of his bravery and great ability inhandling his club, had been detailed to remain near us. 

Before I could see any of the approaching foe, I heard great shoutsof anger and pain from them. It was easy for me to understand theircries as they spoke Spanish and their cursings sounded loud throughthe forest. 

The blow-gun men, perceiving the Peruvians at the foot of the hillonly some twenty feet away, had prudently waited until at least half adozen were visible, before they fired a volley of poisoned arrows. Thethree arrows fired in this first volley all hit their mark. Hardlyhad they gone forth, when other arrows were dexterously inserted inthe tubes. The work of the blow-gun men was soon restricted to thepicking out of any stray enemy, their long, delicate, and cumbersomeblow-guns preventing them from taking an active part in the mêlée. Nowthe conflict was at its height and it was a most remarkable one, on account of its swiftness and fierceness. The bow-and-arrow mencharging with their sting-ray arrows poisoned with the wourahli tookthe place of the cautiously retreating blow-gun men. At the sameinstant the spear-men rushed down, dashing through the underbrush atthe foot of the hill, like breakers on a stormy night. 

The rear-guard of the Peruvians now came into action, having hada chance to view the situation. Several of them filed to the rightand managed to fire their large-calibre bullets into the backs ofour charging bow-and-arrow men, but, in their turn, they were pickedoff by the blow-gun men, who kept firing their poisoned darts from asafe distance. The fearful yells of our men, mingled with the cursingof the Peruvians, and the sharp reports of their heavy rifles, soplainly heard, proved that the centre of battle was not many yardsfrom the spot where I was standing. 

The club-men now broke into action; they could not be kept back anylonger. The tension had already been too painful for these bravefellows, and with fierce war-cries of "_Yob--Hee--Hee_" they launchedthemselves into the fight, swinging their strong clubs above theirheads and crashing skulls from left to right. By this time thePeruvians had lost many men, but the slaughter went on. The hugeblack clubs of the Mangeromas fell again and again, with sickeningthuds, piercing the heads and brains of the enemy with the pointedjaguar teeth. 

Suddenly two Peruvians came into view not more than twelve feet fromwhere the Chief, Arara the big club-man, and I were standing. One ofthese was a Spaniard, evidently the captain of this band of marauders(or, to use their correct name, _caucheros_). His face was of a sickly, yellowish hue, and a big, black moustache hid the lower part of hiscruel and narrow chin. He took a quick aim as he saw us in his path, but before he could pull the trigger, Arara, with a mighty side-swingof his club literally tore the Spaniard's head off. Now, at last, the bonds of restraint were broken for this handsome devil Arara, andyelling himself hoarse, and with his strong but cruel face contractedto a fiendish grin, he charged the enemy; I saw him crush the lifeout of three. 

The Chief took no active part in the fight whatever, but addedto the excitement by bellowing with all his might an encouraging"_Aa--Oo--Ah_. " No doubt, this had a highly beneficial effect upon thetribesmen, for they never for an instant ceased their furious fightinguntil the last Peruvian was killed. During the final moments of thebattle, several bullets whirred by me at close range, but during thewhole affair I had had neither opportunity nor necessity for usingmy pistol. Now, however, a _caboclo_, with a large, bloody machetein his hand, sprang from behind a tree and made straight for me. Idodged behind another tree and saw how the branches were swept asideas he rushed towards me. 

Then I fired point-blank, sending three bullets into his head. Hefell on his face at my feet. As I bent over him, I saw that he hada blow-gun arrow in his left thigh; he was therefore a doomed manbefore he attacked me. This was my first and only victim, during thisbrief but horrible slaughter. As I was already thoroughly sick fromthe noise of cracking rifles and the thumping of clubs smashing theirway into the brains of the Peruvians, I rushed toward the centre ofthe valley where the first attack on the advance guard of the enemyhad taken place, but even more revolting was the sight that revealeditself. Here and there bushes were shaking as some _caboclo_ crawledalong on all fours in his death agony. Those who were struck by theblow-gun arrows seemed simply to fall asleep without much pain orstruggle, but the victims of the club-men and the bow-and-arrow men hada terrible death. They could not die by the merciful wourahli poison, like those shot by the blow-gun, but expired from hemorrhages causedby the injuries of the ruder weapons. One poor fellow was groaningmost pitifully. He had received a well-directed big-game arrow inthe upper part of the abdomen, the arrow having been shot with suchterrible force that about a foot of the shaft projected from theman's back. The arrow-head had been broken off by striking a vertebra. 

The battle was over. Soon the _urubus_, or vultures, were hangingover the tree-tops waiting for their share of the spoils. The menassembled in front of the Chief for roll-call. Four of our men werekilled outright by rifle-bullets, and it was typical of these brave menthat none were killed by machete stabs. The entire marauding expeditionof twenty Peruvians was completely wiped out, not a single one escapingthe deadly aim of the Mangeromas. Thus was avoided the danger of beingattacked in the near future by a greater force of Peruvians, calledto this place from the distant frontier by some returning survivor. 

It is true that the Mangeromas lay in ambush for their enemyand killed them, for the greater part, with poisoned arrows andspears, but the odds were against the Indians, not only because the_caboclos_ were attacking them in larger numbers, but because theycame with modern, repeating fire-arms against the hand weapons of theMangeromas. These marauders, too, came with murder and girl-robberyin their black hearts, while the Mangeromas were defending their homesand families. But it is true that after the battle, so bravely fought, the Indians cut off the hands and feet of their enemies, dead or dying, and carried them home. 

The fight lasted only some twenty minutes, but it was after sunsetwhen we reached the _maloca_. The women and children received uswith great demonstrations of joy. Soon the pots and pans were boilinginside the great house. I have previously observed how the Mangeromaswould partake of parts of the human body as a sort of religious rite, whenever they had been successful with their man-traps; now theyfeasted upon the hands and feet of the slain, these parts having beendistributed among the different families. 

I crept into my hammock and lit my pipe, watching the great mass ofnaked humanity. All the men had laid aside their feather-dresses andsquirrel tails, and were moving around among the many fires on thefloor of the hut. Some were sitting in groups discussing the battle, while women bent over the pots to examine the ghastly contents. Here, a woman was engaged in stripping the flesh from the palm of a handand the sole of a foot, which operation finished, she threw bothinto a large earthen pot to boil; there, another woman was applyingan herb-poultice to her husband's wounds. 

Over it all hung a thick, odoriferous smoke, gradually finding itsway out through the central opening in the roof. 

This was a feast, indeed, such as few white men, I believe, havewitnessed. 

That night and the next day, and the following four days, greatquantities of _chicha_ were drunk and much meat was consumed tocelebrate the great victory, the greatest in the annals of theMangeromas of Rio Branco. 

Earthen vessels and jars were used in the cooking of food. The red clay(Tabatinga clay) found abundantly in these regions formed a superiormaterial for these utensils. They were always decorated symbolicallywith juices of the scarlet _urucu_ and the black _genipapa_. Evenwhen not burned into the clay, these were permanent colours. 

Men and women wore their hair long and untrimmed as far as I couldobserve. The older and more experienced of the tribesmen would havequite elaborate head-gear, consisting of a band of _mutum_ plumes, interspersed with parrot-tail feathers, while the younger hunters worenothing but a band of the _mutum_ plumes. The body was uncovered, save by a narrow strip of bark encircling the waist. A broad piece, woven of several bark-strips into a sort of mat, protected the loweranterior part of the abdomen. The women wore no clothing whatever. 

Their colour was remarkably light. Probably nothing can designate thisbetter than the statement that if a Mangeroma were placed alongsideof an Italian, no difference would be noticeable. Their cheek-boneswere not as high as is usual with tribes found on the Amazon; theyseemed to come from a different race. Their eyes were set straightwithout any tendency to the Mongolian slanting that characterisesthe Peruvian _caboclos_ and the tribes of the northern affluents. Thewomen had unusually large feet, while those of the men were small andwell-shaped. The general appearance of a young Mangeroma was that ofa well-proportioned athlete, standing about five feet ten in his barefeet. No moccasins, nor any other protection for the feet, were worn. 

The supply of wourahli poison had run low and three wourahli men wereto go out in the forest to collect poison plants, a journey whichwould require several days to complete. This occasion was set as thetime of my departure. 

It was a rainy morning when I wrapped my few belongings in a leaf, tied some grass-fibres around them, and inserted them in the largepocket of my khaki-coat. The box with the gold dust was there, alsothe boxes with the exposed photographic plates. Most of the gold hadfiltered out of the box, but a neat quantity still remained. One of myservants--a handsome girl--who, excepting for the labial ornaments, could have been transformed into an individual of quite a civilisedappearance by opportunity, gave me a beautiful black necklace asa souvenir. It was composed of several hundred pieces, all carvedout of ebony nuts. It had cost her three weeks of constant work. Iembraced and was embraced by almost everybody in the _maloca_, afterwhich ceremony we went in procession to the canoe that was to takeme down to the Branco River. The Chief bade me a fond farewell, thatforever shall be implanted in my heart. I had lived here weeks amongthese cannibal Indians, had enjoyed their kindness and generositywithout charge; I could give them nothing in return and they askednothing. I could have stayed here for the rest of my natural life if Ihad so desired, but now I was to say good-bye forever. How wonderfulwas this farewell! It was my opportunity for acknowledging that thesavage heart is by no means devoid of the feelings and sentimentsthat characterise more elevated, so-called civilised individuals. 

For the last time I heard the little dog bark, the same that had lickedmy face when I fainted in front of the _maloca_ upon my first arrival;and the large _arara_ screamed in the tree-tops as I turned once moretowards the world of the white man. 

The journey was without incident. The wourahli men set me off near themouth of the Branco River, at a distance which I covered in less thanfive hours by following the banks. I was greeted by Coronel Maya ofthe _Compagnie Transatlantique de Caoutchouc_, who sent me by canoedown the old Itecoahy, until we reached the Floresta headquarters. 

Here I gave Coronel da Silva an account of the death of Chief Marques, and the brave Jerome, which made a deep impression upon this noble man. 

The three men, Magellaes, Anisette, and Freitas, had returned insafety after they separated from us. 

I met the wife of Chief Marques. She was the woman whose arm I hadamputated. When I saw her she was carrying, with the arm left toher, a pail of water from the little creek behind headquarters. Shewas a different woman, and I was pleased to know that my desperatesurgical operation had resulted so well. Her cheeks were full andalmost rosy. Her health, I was told, excepting for occasional attacksof ague, was very good. 

Soon after, the launch arrived from Remate de Males and I put mybaggage on board. The Coronel accompanied me down river for aboutforty-eight hours and then, reaching the northern extremity ofhis estate, he bade me a fond good-bye with the words: "_Sempre, illustrissimo Senhor, minha casa e a suas ordenes_, " "My house, most illustrious Sir, is always at your disposal. "

When I arrived at Remate de Males I had another attack of malaria, which almost severed the slender thread by which my life hung; myphysical resistance was gone. But I managed to develop my platesbefore breaking down completely, and after having disposed of mysmall quantity of gold dust, for which I realised some three hundredand forty dollars, I was taken down to the mouth of the Javary River, where I had landed almost a year previous, now a physical and, I mightalmost say, mental wreck. I stayed in the house of Coronel Monteiro, the frontier official at Esperança, for five long days, fighting withdeath, until one afternoon I saw the white hull of the R. M. S. _Napo_appear at a bend of the Amazon, only five hundred yards away. 

Closer she came--this rescuing instrument of Providence. She was nonetoo soon, for I had now reached the last notch of human endurance. Shedropped anchor; a small gasoline launch was lowered into the water;three white-coated officers stepped into it--they came ashore--theyclimbed the stairs. The captain, a stout, kind-looking Englishman, approached my hammock and found therein a very sick white man. I wascarried aboard and placed in the hands of the ship's physician. At lastthose black forests of the Amazon were left behind. After twenty-twodays' sail, Sandy Hook lighthouse loomed on our port side, and soonafter, I could rest--rest, and _live_ again!