There was a most picturesque channel 200 m. wide, with marvellous rocks forming a barrier across it, on the right side of the river, between Francesco Island and the right bank. The main part of the stream, however, flowed in a much larger channel between the left bank and Elfrida Landor Island.
The joint Arinos-Juruena River had now a total width of 500 m., and flowed in a direction of 15° bearings magnetic. I took accurate observations with the hypsometrical apparatus in order to determine the exact elevation of that important spot: water boiled at the junction of the Juruena and Arinos at 210°·4¾, while the temperature of the air was 70° F.; in other words the elevation of the place was 987 ft. above the sea level.
Author's Canoe going down a Cataract.
I also took observations there for latitude and longitude. Lat. 10° 21′·7 S.; long. 58° 35′ W. The Juruena entered the lake from bearings magnetic 250° (W.S.W.), the Arinos from bearings magnetic 100° (E.S.E.). The minimum temperature during the night on Elfrida Island was 57° F. My men suffered a great deal from the cold, as they had got badly chilled with the wet and the high wind during the day. Most of them complained of severe rheumatic pains and violent toothache. They could not understand why I did not have any pains of any kind—and to tell the truth, neither could I, after all we had gone through of late.
When we left Elfrida Landor Island on July 25th we had a beautiful stretch of river 4,000 m. long in a straight line, but with a good many rocks strewn in the channel. The men paddled unwillingly, as they said they were aching all over; but the current was strong and we were going along fairly quickly. My men said that we must now have come to the end of all the rapids. I did not care to disillusion them, although I suspected that we still had hard days in store. We had not proceeded very far when a rumbling noise warned us that we were approaching danger. There was a rapid on the east side of the river, but it left a fairly easy passage on the west. A little farther, however, we came to a very bad rapid, and had to unload the canoe, which we were obliged to let down carefully with ropes. My men, who felt feverish and irritable, owing to our previous day's experience, were greatly upset at this new obstacle facing us.
The river was 500 m. wide at this part. The rocks on which we trod when we took the canoe down were so sharp that they cut our feet. It was not possible to wear shoes, as when we had them on we slipped on the rock and had no hold upon the ropes. My men, in their state of weakness, had not sufficient strength to hold the canoe, and the moment she entered the swift current she escaped, dragging one man into the rapid. I jumped into the water after him, and just managed to grab him before he was swept away altogether in the terrific current. We were all drenched, and as the wind blew with great violence that day, and there was no sun to warm us up, we felt the cold very much.
The canoe was thrown mercilessly now against one rock, then against another; but, as luck would have it, after she had made several pirouettes, we, running all the time with our bleeding feet on the sharp rocks along the bank, were eventually able to recapture her at the end of the rapid. Then came the job of going back to fetch all the baggage and bring it down, baling the water out of the canoe, and starting off once more.
My men were tired; they said they could stand the work no more, and they wanted to remain there and die. It took much persuasion to make them come on. I succeeded principally by giving them a good example, carrying down most of the loads that day myself from the upper end of the rapid to the lower—a distance of several hundred metres. I was getting tired, too, of carrying the heavy loads, but I never let my men see it; that would have been fatal.