CHAPTER II
Hoisting the British Flag—An Escaped Slave—A Dilemma—Benedicto—The Lutra Brasiliensis—The Seringueiros—A Marvellous River—Rapids
On July 6th we packed the canoe with our baggage and dogs. The British flag was hoisted at the stern of the canoe, and with tender embraces from the seringueiros, whose eyes were wet with tears—they imagined that we were going to certain death—we pulled out of Porto Velho at seven minutes to eleven o'clock a.m.
"We will pray with all our hearts that you may reach the end of your journey safely!... Beware of the rapids; they are terrible.... Be careful because the canoe does not steer true.... Do not let the canoe knock too hard against rocks, or she may split in two!... Good-bye!... good-bye!"
With those encouraging remarks from the seringueiros, who were sobbing bitterly, we drifted with the current, Antonio and Filippe the negro paddling in the style generally adopted for scooping soup with a spoon out of a dish.
I had provided the canoe with a number of improvised paddles we had cut ourselves. There were no two of equal size, shape, or weight. We had chopped them with an axe from sections of a tree. They were originally all intended to be the same, but what we intended to have and what we got were two different matters, as the five of us each worked on a separate paddle.
The seringueiros stood on the high bank, waving their arms in the air. One of them blew plaintive sounds on one of the horns used by them for calling their companions while in the forest. Those horns could be heard enormous distances. Filippe the white man, who was not paddling, fired back a salute of ten shots. There was nothing my men loved more than to waste ammunition. Fortunately we had plenty.
The average width of the river was there from 80 to 100 metres, with a fairly swift current. It was lucky that ours was the only boat on that river, for indeed we needed all that breadth of water in our snake-like navigation. I remonstrated with Alcides, who was at the helm, and advised him to keep the nose of the canoe straight ahead, as we were coming to a corrideira or small rapid.
Alcides, who could never be told anything, became enraged at my words of warning, and also at the derision of the other men, as we were drifting side on and he could not straighten her course. Just as we were entering the rapid, in his fury Alcides, in disgust, let go the steering-gear, which he said was useless. We were seized by the current and swung round with some violence, dashing along, scraping the bottom of the canoe on rocks, and bumping now on one side, now on the other, until eventually we were dashed violently over a lot of submerged trees, where the bank had been eroded by the current and there had been a landslide. The canoe nearly capsized, the three dogs and some top baggage being thrown out into the water by the impact. We got stuck so hard among the branches of the trees that we all had to remove our lower garments and get into the water trying to get the canoe off.
