Arnold Henry Savage Landor

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

We camped some hundred metres away from the spot where we had killed the sucuriÚ. It was getting late. My men did not sleep a wink the whole night, as they thought perhaps the mate of the snake might come and pay us a visit. We had a lively time the entire night, as we had made our camp over the home of a family of ariranhas. They had their young in a small grotto in the bank, and we heard them all night squealing for their mothers, who were grinding their teeth and shrieking furiously a little way off from the bank, not daring to enter their homes while we were near. They were, I think, more frightened of the fire which my men had made than they were of us. There were twenty or thirty of them, and they made so much noise during the night that it was quite out of the question to rest. The vegetation was very thick, the damp considerable, and the air quite stifling, with a minimum temperature of 60° F. Occasionally, when the air moved at all, we could smell our friend the dissected sucuriÚ. We were glad to leave at eight o'clock the next morning; we seldom could make an earlier start, owing to the slowness of my men in getting their breakfast and mine ready, and reloading the canoe, as all the baggage was taken out every night. Where we had made camp, Victor Emmanuel Island came to an end, the length of the island being some 14 kil. We had great fun just before leaving, the ariranhas coming boldly to attack us as we were getting into the canoe. Our dogs, which had been squealing and growling the whole night at the unmusical shrieks of the ariranhas, now jumped into the water, and there was a fierce fight between them and the amphibious animals. My men, as usual, fired a great many shots. Eventually we recovered our dogs and started off once more on our journey.

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

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

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

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

A Dangerous Vortex.

A Dangerous Vortex.

Preparing the Canoe to go down a Rapid.

Preparing the Canoe to go down a Rapid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Narrow Passage in the Arinos River.

A Narrow Passage in the Arinos River.

Treble Vortex.

Treble Vortex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the August Falls.

At the August Falls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Salto Augusto from Above.

The Salto Augusto from Above.

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

I had hardly gone to sleep when I thought I heard a curious noise by my side, as of something dragging along the ground. I immediately jumped up, and saw a huge snake some 20 ft. long inquisitively looking at me, only half a metre away. I do not know which of us two was more surprised. The snake with sinuous grace moved away from me with gradually accelerated speed, and, passing right under the hammocks of my men, disappeared in the forest behind. Taking all things into consideration, that was a night worth remembering. What was worst of all was the fact that, with the excitement and the fatigue, I had forgotten to wind the chronometer at the usual hour of seven o'clock in the evening, and when I woke up startled in the morning, remembering the fact, I found the chronometer had stopped altogether. That was the greatest blow of all, after all the trouble I had taken to keep the Greenwich mean time for my observations of longitude. The mishap was not irreparable, as I got the time fairly accurately by using the previous observations at local noon and working out the difference with Greenwich mean time.

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