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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The river was of extraordinary beauty in that region. The tall range of hills to the north-west of us showed beautiful cobalt-blue tones against the whitish and grey sky; while the dark green foliage of the trees and the yellow blooms of the Oleo pardo trees visible here and there, the immaculate white sandy beach along the water line, together with the brilliantly red and yellow rocks which stood out of the crystalline emerald water, formed indeed a beautiful scene for the painter's brush. It did not do to be poetically inclined when travelling on the Arinos. I had hardly time to realize how beautiful that scene was when we found ourselves confronted by another big barrier of rocks, through which we went over a swift corrideira.

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

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

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

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

"No! no!" cried Alcides.

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

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

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

Author's Men shooting a Crocodile.

Author's Men shooting a Crocodile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

We worked hard all that afternoon and the greater part of the night in shaping new paddles out of trees we had cut down with the axes, which were fortunately not lost. The new paddles were even more primitive and clumsy than those we had before. We dried what remained of our baggage in the sun during the afternoon. The beautiful sandy beach on which we had landed looked very gay with all the articles I had spread out from some of my trunks, including a dress-suit which I hung on a young palm, and other such articles, which looked rather incongruous in that particular region. All the white linen clothes I possessed had gone, and there only remained some good serge clothes which I had kept for my arrival in civilized places again. My water-tight boxes had been knocked about so much that they had got injured and let in a good deal of moisture.

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

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

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

A Cataract in the River Arinos.

A Cataract in the River Arinos.

Author's Canoe among Great Volcanic Rocks.

Author's Canoe among Great Volcanic Rocks.

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

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

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

We therefore unloaded the canoe, and with considerable trouble and waste of time we led her down the rapid by means of ropes. Even led in that fashion with the greatest care, the canoe was entirely filled with water. Islets of rock of considerable beauty rose from the river on the right-hand side. As we got a little way farther, slightly more to the north-west, another hill range, perhaps a little higher than the one we had already observed, began to disclose itself to the north-west, on the right side of the river. As we advanced I further ascertained that the first range extended in a general direction from south-west to north-east. The river had actually eroded its way through this range. Strong rapids were again met with at that point, the channel being strewn with innumerable sharp-edged rocks, most unpleasant if you were to come in contact with them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Preparing to descend a Rapid.

Preparing to descend a Rapid.

A Cataract in the Arinos River.

A Cataract in the Arinos River.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lake formed where the Arinos and Juruena Rivers meet.

Lake formed where the Arinos and Juruena Rivers meet.

Going through a Rapid.

Going through a Rapid.

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

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

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

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