On September 11th we had another terrible march, the forest being very dense and much entangled along the stream. We had great trouble in getting through, as there were many palms and ferns, and we had no more strength to cut down our way. We came to a big tree, which was hollow inside up to a great height, and round which were millions of bees.

Benedicto, who was a great connoisseur in such matters, said that high up inside the tree there must be honey. The bees round that tree were unfortunately stinging bees. We drew lots as to who should go inside the tree to get the honey. It fell to Benedicto. We took off most of our clothes and wrapped up his head and legs so that he might proceed to the attack. The job was not an easy one, for in the first reconnaissance he made with his head inside the tree he discovered that the honey must be not less than 20 ft. above the ground, and it was necessary to climb up to that height inside the tree before he could get it. In order to hasten matters—as Benedicto was reluctant in carrying out the job—I tried my hand at it, but I was stung badly by hundreds of bees behind my head, on my eyelids, on my arms and legs. When I came out of the tree I was simply covered with angry bees, which stung me all over. So I told Benedicto that, as Fate had called upon him to do the work, he had better do it.

Benedicto was certainly very plucky that day. All of a sudden he dashed inside the tree and proceeded to climb up. We heard wild screams for some minutes; evidently the bees were protecting their home well. While Filippe and I were seated outside, smiling faintly at poor Benedicto's plight, he reappeared. We hardly recognized him when he emerged from the tree, so badly stung and swollen was his face, notwithstanding the protection he had over it. All he brought back was a small piece of the honeycomb about as large as a florin. What little honey there was inside was quite putrid, but we divided it into three equal parts and devoured it ravenously, bees and all. A moment later all three of us were seized with vomiting, so that the meagre meal was worse than nothing to us.

We were then in a region of innumerable liane, which hung from the trees and caught our feet and heads, and wound themselves round us when we tried to shift them from their position. Nearly all the trees in that part had long and powerful spikes. Then near water there were huge palms close together, the sharp-edged leaves of which cut our hands, faces and legs as we pushed our way through.

A violent storm broke out in the afternoon. The rain was torrential, making our march extremely difficult. It was just like marching under a heavy shower-bath. The rain lasted for some three hours. We crossed one large stream flowing west into the Secundury, and also two other good-sized streamlets.

We had a miserable night, drenched as we were and unable to light a fire, the box of matches having got wet and the entire forest being soaked by the torrential storm. During the night another storm arrived and poured regular buckets of water upon us.

On September 12th we drowsily got up from our hammocks in a dejected state. By that time we had lost all hope of finding food, and no longer took the trouble to look round for anything to eat. We went on a few hundred metres at a time, now Benedicto fainting from exhaustion, then Filippe, then myself. While one or another was unconscious much time was wasted. Marching under those conditions was horrible, as either one or other of us collapsed every few hundred metres.

Another violent storm broke out, and we all lay on the ground helpless, the skin of our hands and feet getting shrivelled up with the moisture.

My feet were much swollen owing to the innumerable thorns which had got into them while walking barefooted. It was most painful to march, as I was not accustomed to walk without shoes.

We went only ten kilometres on September 12th. We crossed two small rivers and one large, flowing west and south, evidently into the Secundury.

On September 13th we had another painful march, my men struggling along, stumbling and falling every little while. They were dreadfully depressed. Towards the evening we came to a big tree, at the foot of which we found some discarded shells, such as we had once seen before, of fruit eaten by monkeys. My men and I tried to scrape with our teeth some of the sweet substance which still adhered to the shells. We saw some of the fruit, which was fit to eat, at a great height upon the tree, but we had not the strength to climb up or cut down that enormous tree.

All the visions of good meals which I had had until then had now vanished altogether on that tenth day of fasting, and I experienced a sickly feeling in my inside which gave me an absolute dislike for food of any kind. My head was beginning to sway, and I had difficulty in collecting my ideas. My memory seemed to be gone all of a sudden. I could no longer remember in what country I was travelling, nor could I remember anything distinctly. Only some lucid intervals came every now and then, in which I realised our tragic position; but those did not last long, all I could remember being that I must go to the west. I could not remember why nor where I intended to come out.

Everything seemed to be against us. We were there during the height of the rainy season. Towards sunset rain came down once more in bucketfuls and lasted the entire night, the water dripping from our hammocks as it would from a small cascade. We were soaked, and shivering, although the temperature was not low. I had my maximum and minimum thermometers with me, but my exhaustion was such that I had not the strength to unpack them every night and morning and set them. We crossed two streamlets flowing west. Benedicto and Filippe were in such a bad way that it was breaking my heart to look at them. Every time they fell down in a faint I never knew whether it was for the last time that they had closed their eyes. When I felt their hearts with my hand they beat so faintly that once or twice I really thought they were dead. That day I myself fainted, and fell with the left side of my face resting on the ground. When I recovered consciousness some time later, I touched my face, which was hurting me, and found that nearly the whole skin of my cheek had been eaten up by small ants, the lower lid of the eye having suffered particularly. A nasty sore remained on my face for some two months after that experience, the bites of those ants being very poisonous.

Bad as they were, there is no doubt that to a great extent we owed our salvation to those terrible ants. Had it not been for them and the incessant torture they inflicted on us when we fell down upon the ground, we should have perhaps lain there and never got up again.

I offered Benedicto and Filippe a large reward if they continued marching without abandoning the precious loads. Brazilians have a great greed for money, and for it they will do many things which they would not do otherwise.

On September 14th we made another most painful march of 20 kil., again up and down high hills, some as much as 300 ft. above the level land of that country, and all with steep, indeed, almost vertical, sides, extremely difficult for us to climb in our exhausted condition. We saw several streamlets flowing west. When evening came we had before us a high hill, which we ascended. When we reached the top we just lay upon the ground like so many corpses, and, ants, or no ants biting us, we had not the energy to get up again. Once more did the rain come down in torrents that night, and to a certain extent washed the ants from our bodies.

My surprise was really great the next morning when I woke up. I felt myself fading away fast. Every time I closed my eyes I expected never to open them again.

On September 15th we made another trying march, collapsing under our loads every few hundred metres. My men were constantly looking for something to eat in all directions, but could find nothing. Benedicto and Filippe were now all the time contemplating suicide. The mental strain of perpetually keeping an eye on them was great.

We were sitting down, too tired to get up, when Filippe amazed me considerably by the following words, which he spoke in a kind of reverie:

"It would be very easy," he said, "now that you have no more strength yourself, for us two to get the big knife and cut your throat. We know that you have a big, big sum of money upon you, and if we robbed you we would be rich for ever. But we do not want to do it. It would not be much use to us, as we could not get out of the forest alone. I believe we shall all die together, and all that money will go to waste."

Filippe said this in quite a good-natured manner. The two poor fellows were so depressed that one had to forgive them for anything they said.

As the river seemed to describe a big loop, I had left it three days before, seeing plainly by the conformation of the country that we should strike it again sooner or later. We were marching once more by compass. My men, who had no faith whatever in the magnetic needle, were again almost paralysed with fear that we might not encounter the stream again. A thousand times a day they accused me of foolishness in leaving the river, as they said it would have been better to follow its tortuous course—notwithstanding the trouble we had in following it, owing to the dense vegetation near the water—rather than strike once more across country. They were beginning to lose heart altogether, when I told them I could see by the vegetation that we were once more near the water. Anybody accustomed as I am to marching through the forest could tell easily by the appearance of the vegetation some miles before actually getting to a stream.

I reassured my companions, saying that within a few hours we should certainly meet the "big water" again. In fact, not more than half an hour afterwards we suddenly found ourselves once more on the large stream—at that point 70 metres wide.

My men were so amazed and delighted that they embraced me and sobbed over my shoulders for some time. From that moment their admiration for the compass was unbounded; they expected me to find anything with it.

With gladdened hearts we followed the stream again, Benedicto and Filippe shouting at the top of their voices for help in case anybody were near. But they called and called in vain. We listened, but not a sound could be heard, except perhaps that of a crashing tree in the forest—a sound very familiar when marching across Brazil.

The right bank of the Secundury river was high, not less than from 30 to 40 ft., and extremely steep, formed of alluvial deposits with a thick surface layer of decayed vegetation, making a soft carpet. Two small tributary streams had cut deep grooves in the soft earth. In our weak condition we had the greatest trouble in going down the almost vertical banks and climbing up again on the other side.

On September 16th we followed the river once more, crossing three tributaries, the largest of which was 4 m. wide. The forest was beautifully clean underneath, just like a well-kept park. The stems of the trees were as clean as possible up to a great height, the foliage forming a regular roof over us through which little light and only exhausted air penetrated.

Although we could find nothing whatever to eat, my men were not so depressed that day, as they expected to find some living people sooner or later. I did not like to disappoint them, although the fact that we could find no signs of human creatures having recently gone through that region showed me plainly that we were yet far away from salvation.

Another formidable rainstorm came down upon us in the morning, the water descending in regular sheets. We were so exhausted that we did not care for anything any more. Whether we got wet or dry was quite immaterial to us.

I was so conscious of my utmost exhaustion that I felt I could not now last much longer under that heavy strain. Every fifty or a hundred metres I collapsed under my load, and had the greatest struggle to get up on my feet again. Those marches were most tragic, my men being, if possible, in a worse condition than me, they, too, collapsing every few steps. Thus in a day we each collapsed dozens of times. That was the thirteenth day we had had no food whatever, barring perhaps a grain of salt from the fraudulent anchovy tin, which I had preserved in a piece of paper.

I felt no actual pain, only great emptiness in my inside, and a curious feeling of nausea, with no wish whatever to eat or to drink. Although water was plentiful we hardly touched it at all—only a few drops to moisten our feverish lips. That fact interested me greatly, as it was absolutely contrary to people's notions of what happens when you are starving. All I experienced was indescribable exhaustion. I felt myself gradually extinguishing like a burnt-out lamp.

Benedicto and Filippe had dreadful nightmares during the night, and occasionally gave frantic yells. That night Filippe all of a sudden startled us crying out for help; a moment later he collapsed in a faint. When he recovered I asked him what was the matter; he said in a dazed way that there were people all round us bringing plenty of food to us—an hallucination which was soon dispelled when he returned to his senses. On September 17th we had another painful march without finding a grain of food to eat. Again we started our day with a severe thunderstorm, the water coming down upon us in bucketfuls. Benedicto and Filippe were fervently praying the Almighty to strike them down by lightning so as to end the daily torture.

The strain of leading those fellows on was getting almost too much for me. The greatest gentleness had to be employed, as an angry word would have finished them altogether, and they would have laid down to die.

The rain came down in such torrents that day, and we were so soaked, that we had to halt, we three huddling together to try and protect ourselves under the waterproof sheet which I used at night as a hammock. When we went on I noticed a cut in a tree which had been made some years before. I soon discovered the tracks which had been followed by the person who had made that cut, and soon after I discovered another mark of a knife upon another rubber tree. Evidently somebody had been there prospecting. We followed the ancient track for some distance in a most winding way—those marks, I judged, having been made about four years before.

My men were depressed to the utmost degree when, on following the track of the stranger, we discovered the spot on the river where he had evidently once more got into his canoe and gone. One more hope of salvation shattered!

Curiously enough, upon that fourteenth day of starving my strength got up again to a certain extent, although I still had no wish whatever to eat; but my head began to swim with a strange sensation as if the trees of the forest were tumbling down upon me. The impression was so vivid that several times I fell in trying to avoid what I thought was a tree falling upon me.

The swaying of my head seemed to get worse and worse all that day, until the unpleasant sensation of the forest closing in and overwhelming me became intolerable.

In the evening we came in for another storm, the rain being torrential through nearly the entire night. During the day I had had the optical illusion of trees falling upon me. During the night I had the real thing. The upper part of the tree to which I had tied my hammock came down with a terrific crash during a heavy gust of wind, and just missed my head by a few inches. As it was it tore down my hammock with me inside it, and I received a bump that I shall not forget in a hurry.

We certainly seemed to have no luck whatever on that fateful expedition! Aching all over, soaked right through, water dripping down my hands, nose and hair like so many little fountains, I proceeded to tie my hammock to another tree, while poor Filippe and Benedicto, who had been caught in the foliage and branches of the falling tree, were trying to disentangle themselves from their unpleasant position. The tree had fallen because it had been eaten up internally by ants. When it came down upon us they simply swarmed over us, and bit us all over for all they were worth. I have no wish whatever to have another such miserable night.

On September 18th we lost the whole morning owing to the torrential rain which continued. We had not the strength to go on.

Now that Filippe and Benedicto had absolute faith in my compass, I had again left the river where it described a big turn toward the south-west, and it was not until two o'clock that afternoon that I struck the big stream once more and we followed its right bank.

To our great delight we came to a small clearing where some years before mandioca had been cultivated. We threw down our loads at once and proceeded to search for roots. To our great joy we found one small root, about as big as a small carrot. We made a fire. Oh! the anxiety in lighting up that fire, as we only had eight matches left, and they had got damp.

Filippe, who was the expert in striking matches, was entrusted with the job. Alas! he struck and struck time after time the first match against the box until its head was worn off altogether, and no flame was produced. With some anxiety we watched the second match having a similar fate.

The men said that the root we had found was of wild mandioca, and if we ate it raw we should certainly all die, but if roasted properly over a flame it lost some of its poisonous qualities. We all had our eyes fixed on that root, and felt the happiest of mortals, as if the most expensive banquet had all of a sudden been placed before us. It was a great relief when Filippe struck the third match and it actually produced a flame. We lighted a fire, roasting the valuable root upon it. Benedicto, who was the culinary expert, roasted the root until it was nearly carbonized, and by the time he took it out of the flame we had each of us left for our share a section of its fibrous core not larger than a well-smoked cigarette stump.

We devoured that luxurious meal in haste. It tasted as bitter as aloes. No sooner had I eaten it than I felt extremely ill, my men also experiencing a similar sensation. Benedicto was the first one to vomit painfully and cough violently; then came my turn, then Filippe's. So our first meal was not much of a success.

The little strength we had seemed now to have disappeared altogether. We lay helpless upon the bank of the river, unable to move. Once or twice Filippe shouted for help, thinking that our voices might be heard, but no answer ever came to our cries.

Eventually we proceeded once more along the right bank of the river, when we perceived on the opposite bank an abandoned hut. The river at that point was 70 m. wide, from 4 to 5 ft. deep, with a fairly strong current. We decided to cross over and see if perhaps by chance some food had been abandoned in the hut. It was already evening, and we were so exhausted that we did not dare to cross the stream, especially as Filippe and Benedicto could not swim.

The next day, September 19th, we proceeded to ford the stream, having scarcely the strength to keep erect, especially in the middle of the river with the water up to our necks. We were carrying our loads on our heads, so that they should not get wetter than possible. My negatives were fortunately in air-tight cases, or else they certainly would have been destroyed altogether on that disastrous march across the forest.

We got safely to the other side. The bank was very high. A broken-down canoe had been left on the shore. We worked many hours trying to mend her so that we could proceed down the river. But we wasted the entire day, working feverishly for six or seven hours, trying to stop up great holes as big as my fist, one sleeve of my coat being used for the purpose, and replacing a plank at her stern which was missing.

When we at length summoned our last atom of strength to launch her, she immediately filled with water and went to the bottom like a piece of lead. That was the end of the canoe. We had not the strength to float her again.

Building a raft was impossible, as no wood was found that floated. In reconnoitring round the hut, to our great joy we discovered some caju and some guyaba trees; also some more roots of mandioca now become wild.

That was our sixteenth day of fasting, and it can well be imagined how quickly we devoured what little unripe fruit was hanging from the trees. Once more we tried the experiment of cooking the mandioca roots. We had now only five matches left. It was curious to note with what care we prepared dried wood and leaves so that no chance would be lost in getting a flame. Fortunately the first match struck did its work well, and we soon had a big fire inside the hut, on which we roasted the mandioca.

As I have explained elsewhere, the fruit of the caju has an outward nut which has highly caustic properties, and is deadly poisonous to eat uncooked but quite edible when roasted. After eating all the fruit we kept those nuts and put them on the fire; in the evening we sat down to what seemed to us a luxuriant meal.

We had not patience to wait for the caju nuts to be properly roasted. When I ate them my nose, lips, tongue and fingers became badly burned by their caustic juice. No sooner had we eaten that meal than we all became violently ill. I dropped down unconscious, rejecting everything and quantities of blood besides. I must have been unconscious many hours, after which I slept soundly till the sun was well up in the sky, when I found myself resting on the ground with a pool of blood by my side. Poor Filippe and Benedicto were also in a bad way.

On the front of that hut on a piece of board was written "El Paraiso" (Paradise), the name of that place. It was not exactly my idea of Heaven.

Our first meals were worse than no meals at all. We felt in such a plight that we lay helpless upon the floor of the hut, quite unable to move, so exhausted were we. In turning my head around I discovered ten large demijohns, some 2½ ft. high and about 2 ft. in diameter, of thick green glass. They were the usual demijohns—garaffons, as they are called—used all over Brazil for "fire-water." I at once conceived the idea of using them as floats in the construction of a raft.

My men grinned contemptuously at the idea when I mentioned it to them. They said that all was over. It was no use trying to get away. The Almighty wanted us to die, and we must only lie there and await our end, which was not far off. Benedicto struggled to his knees and prayed to the Almighty and the Virgin, sobbing bitterly all the time.

I struggled up on my feet and proceeded to carry the big vessels to the river bank, where I intended to construct the raft. The effort to take each heavy bottle those few metres seemed almost beyond me in my exhausted state. At last I proceeded to strip the floor of the hut, which had been made with split assahy palms (Euterpe oleracea L.), in order that I might make a frame to which I could fasten the bottles. With a great deal of persuasion I got Filippe and Benedicto to help me. The long pieces of assahy were too heavy for our purpose, and we had the additional trouble of splitting each piece into four. It was most trying work in our worn-out condition. Then we had to go into the forest and collect some small liane, so that we could tie the pieces together, as we had no nails and no rope.

On September 20th, again without food—for we had eaten up all the fruit the previous day—we worked from morning till night in building the raft. Unfortunately, Benedicto stumbled against one of the bottles, which was on the edge of the river; it rolled down the steep bank and floated quickly down stream, and we saw it disappear, unable to go and recover it. So only nine bottles were left.

Raft constructed by the Author in order to navigate the Canuma River with his Two Companions of Starvation.

Raft constructed by the Author in order to navigate the Canuma River with his Two Companions of Starvation.

I made the raft of a triangular shape, with two parallel diagonal rows of three bottles each at a distance of 3 ft. apart; then one set of two bottles. One single garaffon formed the bow of the raft. Naturally I stopped up the necks of the bottles, so that no water should get inside.

While I was constructing the raft I was all the time wondering whether it would have a sufficient floating capacity to carry us three men and our baggage.

When the raft was finished we placed two parallel pieces of assahy from one end to the other, on which we could sit astride, with our legs dangling in the water.

The lassitude with which we did our work and tore down part of the hut in order to build that raft, our only way of salvation, was too pitiful to watch. We absolutely had no strength at all. When we pulled the liane to fasten together the different pieces of palm wood we were more exhausted than if we had lifted a weight of 200 lb. As it was, we could not fasten the pieces of wood properly, and when the raft was finished it was indeed a shaky affair.

By sunset on September 20th the raft—strengthened by sundry knots all over—was ready to be launched. I was more proud of her than if I had built a Dreadnought. There we all sat by the side of her, my men looking at her in a sceptical way, saying that it was just as well, perhaps, to try and die drowned instead of dying of starvation.

We took a last glance around to see if we could discover some other fruit or something to eat, but we found nothing. We postponed the launching of our vessel—which I named the Victory—until the next morning, as had she perchance had an accident that night—accidents at night seem so much worse than in the daytime—it would have been too severe a blow for us, from which we never could have recovered.

My feet were in such a terrible condition—so full of thorns, so swollen with numberless jiggers which had bored channels under my nails and under the soles—that I really felt I could not walk another step. If that raft did not float I knew that we were lost for good.

The entire night I could not sleep, speculating on whether the raft would float or not. As far as I could judge, she seemed to me to have just capacity enough to keep afloat with all of us on board.