CHAPTER XXII
Baggage saved—The Journey down the Tapajoz River—Colonel Brazil—Wrecked—From Itaituba to the Amazon—Benedicto and the Man X are discharged
October 6th and 7th I spent inside a hammock. I was in such a high fever and so absolutely exhausted that I believed I should never be able to pull through. Albuquerque and his wife were kindness itself to me, and looked after me most tenderly. While I had been away a trading boat had passed. That boat would be on its way down the river again in a few days. I thought I would take advantage of this to go down as far as the mouth of the Tapajoz on the Amazon in her.
On the evening of October 7th, Benedicto, who was a great glutton, prepared a huge bowl of the mamão fruit stewed and sweetened with quantities of sugar. I had obtained from Albuquerque some tins of shrimps, lobster and salmon, butter and jam—all condemned stuff from some ship—and I gave all my men a feast. Benedicto brought me some of the sweet he had prepared, and it looked so tempting that, ill as I was, I ate a quantity of it. After dinner I persuaded my men to go back to the forest to recover the baggage they had abandoned there. Tempted by a present of money I offered them if they would bring it back safely, they all agreed to go.
On October 8th, however, when the men were to start, the man X had a severe colic. He rolled himself on the ground in great pain, and refused to go.
The strong fever had finished me to such an extent that I did not think I should last many hours longer. Albuquerque and his wife stood by my hammock watching me, Albuquerque shaking his head compassionately, asking me if I wanted to write a last word to my family, which he would send down by the trading boat when she arrived. I well remember hearing his voice faintly, as I was in a half-dazed condition. I had not the strength to answer. As he walked out of the room he said to his wife: "Poor fellow! he will not be alive in another hour!"
Albuquerque was a most thoughtful Brazilian, intelligent and well-educated, quite superior for the position he occupied there.
I was still alive on October 9th, much to the surprise of everybody, and feeling much better. There was a great slaughter of chickens, Albuquerque saying that I needed chicken broth badly; in fact, that day I drank cup after cup, and it seemed to give me a little strength. Although those chickens had a local value of about £1 sterling each, Albuquerque would not hear of my paying for them. I knew what inconvenience it would be for him to slaughter them in that fashion, as he could not replace them perhaps for several months.
Good news came that day, when Albuquerque's wife entered the room saying that some trading boats were coming up the river—she could see them a long way off, just getting over the Capueras Falls. I decided to go up in one of those boats as far as the Fiscal Agency at S. Manoel, where I could obtain fresh clothes and provisions. Remaining still inside a house I felt was killing me.
The boats did not arrive that evening. The next day, October 10th, rain came down in sheets, so that we could not see more than a few metres in front of us, and the wind was howling with fury.