Going down a Violent Rapid in a Narrow Channel.
There we indulged in a plentiful lunch, the country round being as still as death. Not a sign could be seen anywhere of a human being; not a column of smoke indicating the presence of man rose anywhere in the clear sky. Nowhere did we meet disturbed vegetation; nowhere did we notice a trail or a passage through the vegetation coming to the water; nowhere did we meet abandoned camps or any signs whatever that human beings had ever lived there. There was no animal life of fair size on the surface; no parrots, no monkeys, no mammals of any kind—only millions of insects, which made one's life a burden.
It was not so with the river, which was swarming with innocent fish, only too ready to be killed and supply us with excellent meals. The reason, of course, that the river was so full of fish, and that the fish displayed such delightful simplicity, was because there were there no human beings.
Soon after leaving camp—all the happier for an excellent lunch—we came once more to thick, beautiful, clean forest on both sides. Again rubber was plentiful, and absolutely untouched by the collector's hand. The river was getting amazingly beautiful, 200 m. wide all along, the water like a faultless silver mirror irreproachably reflecting each leaf, each branch of the motionless trees on both banks. There was not a breath of wind to disturb the tranquillity of that deliciously restful scene.
Yet one more gorgeous island—Alastor Island—300 m. long and 80 to 100 m. wide, was seen. It was preceded on the south-east side by innumerable gravel mounds just emerging above the water surface, then by a magnificent gravel beach with numberless beautiful crystals. On the left bank a tributary 15 m. wide entered the Arinos from the south-west.
The river was getting more and more entrancing at every turn. Profuse blossoms of the most gorgeous yellow shone resplendent in all their beauty against the background of dark green foliage. The entire edge of the forest was festooned with daintily-leafed creepers and with myriads of convolvuli of the purest amethyst colour.
There was poetry in the scene—frequently disturbed, perhaps, by the inconceivable oaths of the man to whom was entrusted the heavy task of baling out the water from the canoe, which leaked badly. She was fissured from end to end, and we had no effective means of preventing the water coming in; in fact, if the baling were not done quickly and continuously with a bucket, the water soon gained and reached the platform on which we had placed the baggage. Our feet, of course, were in water all day long. We did not mind that so much. In fact, our feet got so soaked with moisture that we could peel off the skin in big patches with the greatest ease.
After travelling across a basin 250 m. broad, we came to a corrideira with shallow water. We dashed with great speed sideways over a bank of gravel, and nearly turned turtle. The gravel was banked up against the lee side of the canoe, and with a strong current pushing her we had the greatest trouble to pull her off again.
There was a great deal of rubber, particularly on the left bank, while on the right, chapada was again observed. The river was so wonderfully tidy that, had it not been for its great breadth, one would have felt as if going through a watercourse in England.