Serbot pointed out to Biff the wide Tapajóz River which disgorged a huge flood into the turbulent Amazon, splotching the yellow tide with long streaks of green that looked like wash from the jungle and shone with emerald brilliance in the noonday sun.
The plane roared off again, and at Obidos, eighty miles farther upstream, the Amazon narrowed to a single deep channel only a mile and a quarter wide with the walls of solid forests fringing both bluffs. Later, the river widened again, and Serbot indicated small settlements built on high stilts in clearings back from the bank.
“Those show you how high the river rises,” Serbot told Biff. “Often it overflows its banks for many miles on both sides. Some of the native villages are so far off in the jungle that they can only be reached when the Amazon is in flood.”
Between pointing out these interesting scenes, Serbot talked occasionally of his war experiences, and Biff, wide awake and alert ever since his morning nap, was enjoying the trip more and more. He realized that he was gaining a slight preview of the Brazilian jungle that might prove helpful when he and his father set out on the safari that was actually to be a gold hunt. But he was careful to avoid answering any direct questions that Serbot put to him.
It was late afternoon when Serbot indicated a great, dark swirl of water that merged with the muddy Amazon, marking the mouth of another huge tributary.
“The black water of the Rio Negro,” defined Serbot. “From here it is only ten miles up to Manaus.”
Soon, the plane landed at the Manaus airport, and a few minutes later, Biff was being welcomed by his father, a tall, rugged man with dark hair and tanned, square-jawed face, an older counterpart of Biff himself, except for the boy’s blond hair. But when Biff looked around for Mr. Serbot, hoping to introduce him to Mr. Brewster, he found to his surprise that his companion of the plane trip had already gone.
Biff and his dad talked about the family and everything at home while they were picking up Biff’s luggage. Mr. Brewster then led the way to a jeep that he had parked outside the airport. Before they started their drive into the city, Biff drew the sealed envelope from his pocket and handed it to his father with the comment:
“Dad, this is from Mr. Stannart. He told me to guard it carefully, that it is very important.”
Mr. Brewster tore open the envelope, and Biff watched his expression change as he read the letter. His lips set tightly above his firm jaw, Mr. Brewster thrust the letter into his own pocket; then he started the jeep. Keeping a sharp eye along the rough road, he asked: