When I arrived at the confluence, as I took it to be, of the streams, it was Saturday night,—that is, according to my new calendar. As I did not think it lawful to travel on the Sunday, I sought for an eligible place of security, where I might rest, and start thoroughly refreshed on the Monday, to solve the problem of the opposing currents. With this view I ascended an isolated blasted tree, where I might seat myself, and find protection from insidious enemies. I was delighted to find that the trunk was hollow, the only entrance being from the top. The tree leaned to the horizon at about an angle of 45 degrees. After carefully examining it, I thought I had satisfied myself that it was not pre-occupied by any obnoxious inhabitant; I then dropped into it, as it were, down a chimney. Crouching, I was out of sight, but when I stood erect I had a view of my own desolate situation.
A species of frogs had just commenced to send forth their peculiar noise, which resembles the sound from a stonemason's yard, when I was annoyed by a number of green frogs, such as dwell in trees; and endeavouring to brush these from my immediate locality, I discovered a number of the scolopendra, or centipedes, from five to eight inches in length. Perceiving a hole in the side of the tree, I proceeded to expel these formidable insects with my stick, by which means I disturbed, in the pulpy part of the decayed wood, a nest of scorpions. Things in motion soon catch my eye, and in another second I had regained the earth. Indisposed, however, to give up such a comfortable apartment, I cleared out the whole of the interior, and then regained the top of the tree, where I sat for a considerable time in doubt whether I should retire to rest or keep watch through the night. It was a beautiful evening, and the air was strongly impregnated with the aromatic fragrance of the different species of the rubiaceæ, the andiocera, and ænothera. Moonlight is a thoughtful period in all climates. I had almost, while watching my own shadow, forgotten the process of time, when suddenly Cynthia extinguished her lamp. Wearied, both in a mental and physical sense, I again, reckless of consequences, dropped into my cylindrical apartment. How long I slept I cannot tell; I was, however, awaked to scenes as remarkable as they were terrible and rapid in succession. A flood of light was streaming into my skylight, and I became conscious of a rocking sensation. For a moment I concluded that I was again seized with the vertigo in my head. A violent sound of rushing waters soon roused me to a sense of my real danger, and, standing erect, I beheld all the firm earth, on which but a few hours previously I had stood, now covered with water. An immense number of aquatic birds were floating on its surface, while others were springing up to branches of the trees above, to escape from the enormous serpents, and other monsters of the deep, that infest temporary lakes caused by sudden inundations.
An inundation
As I surveyed the scene the waters were still rising, and the tree on which I sat rose with them in an upright position. Presently it became stationary, and the water began, gradually to cover its trunk. I have said that it was an isolated spot: it was a small area in the midst of the wood, which appeared to have been cleared by the blast of lightning, the nearest tree being fifty yards, or more, distant. Among other things struggling for life was a fawn, which swam beneath me, and was seized by a cayman; while as another monster of the same species, at least thirty feet long, paused to survey me, with my feet then nearly touching the water, I impulsively raised my stick in self-defence, and at this juncture the trunk of the tree suddenly swung round, and by its action nearly threw me off into the jaws of the cayman. The principal part of the roots were torn from the earth, but most providentially the only remaining branch on the tree remained uppermost, which presented me with the opportunity of climbing five or six feet higher. Still, as I could not now turn round with facility, I remained for a full hour, every moment expecting the monster would seize me from behind; for the cayman continued to show himself at intervals, as if certain, in the end, of his prey. At length the roots of the decayed tree parted entirely from the earth, and it was carried forward with the current. Fortunately the branch, which was my only chance of escape, still remained elevated. The cayman did not abandon his intended victim till my bark conveyed me among the standing trees, when I seized the opportunity of climbing up one of considerable height. Up to this period all other dangers had been merged in the immediate dread of the monster of the deep, but I was now at liberty to take a more extended view of the scene, from a fixed position, and I found myself in the midst of congregated wild beasts and powerful reptiles.
In the next tree to the one I occupied was an ant-bear, and a little farther off I could discern several others. Monkeys and apes were swinging and chattering over my head in large numbers; serpents, from five to thirty feet long, were crawling on the branches and round the trunks of trees, to escape from the flood; tiger-cats, beautifully striped, were springing from branch to branch of the green and purple-heart trees, which here grew to the height of seventy feet; lizards were seen in such numbers as in many places literally to cover the branches of the trees. All the birds were sending forth sounds of dissonance, as if stricken with terror; while the shrill voice of the bird called the pi-pi-yo roused me to the consciousness that the hour of noon had arrived.
The lofty panax, Bignonia, copaiva, rising to a hundred feet in height, were peopled with living things, all in apparent consternation at the sudden changes of the scene. It was a grand, though an awful sight for a human being to behold. Animals of various natures, habits, and antipathies, were all crowded together in one common place of refuge, shaken by the wind, and dreading contact with each other, as the violent rushing of the waters bore on their surface numberless proofs of the havoc made, and still threatening to sweep away and swallow up every vestige of animal and vegetable creation.
Hope in desolation
But let the soul be set on the highest mount of distress, and view the most spacious prospect of misery, if the eye be turned towards God comfort may be found beyond the horizon, when human strength is vain.
I lifted up my voice in the wilderness, and lo! God was there, and I took courage, exclaiming, "The Almighty is the architect of all I see, His power stretches over the whole earth and the empty space; He hangs the earth and all the ethereal globes upon nothing; and is He not able to save me?" "I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness," saith the Lord. "The hand which fixes the stars and guides the planets in their courses is stretched out to preserve His children."
With these reflections did I trust in my position, and bid my soul to take courage and rely on divine succour. Fortunately, I had the remains of a cooked bird in my wallet, which always hung at my back; and murucuja, fruit of one of the passion-flowers, was within my reach, which I gathered and ate. The fish also forsook their ordinary food, for I could plainly see them feeding on the fruit and berries of shrubs through which they swam.