1 85 1.] THE PI MIC HI N RIVER. 165 



About a mile above Maroa, we reached the entrance of the 

 little river Pimichin, up which we were to ascend. At the very 

 mouth was a rock filling up the channel, and we had great 

 difficulty in passing. We then had deep water for some 

 distance, but came again to rocks and reedy shallows, where 

 our heavily-laden canoe was only got over by great exertions. At 

 night we reached a fine sandy beach, where we stayed, but had 

 not been fortunate enough to get any fish, so had nothing for 

 supper but farinha mingau and a cup of coffee ; and I then 

 hung my hammock under a little palm-leaf shed, that had been 

 made by some former traveller. 



Our breakfast was a repetition of our supper, and we again 

 started onwards, but every half hour had to stop and partly 

 unload our boat, and drag it over some impediment. In many 

 places there was a smooth ledge of rock with only a little water 

 trickling over it, or a series of steps forming minature cascades. 

 The stream was now sunk in a little channel or ravine fifteen 

 or twenty feet deep, and with an interminable succession of 

 turnings and windings towards every point of the compass. 

 At length, late in the evening, we reached the port of Pimichin, 

 formerly a village, but now containing only two houses. We 

 found an old shed without doors and with a leaky roof the 

 traveller's house of which we took possession. 



Our canoe being unloaded, I went to one of the cottages to 

 forage, and found a Portuguese deserter, a very civil fellow, 

 who gave me the only eatable thing he had in the house, 

 which was a piece of smoke-dried fish, as hard as a board and 

 as tough as leather. This I gave to the Indians, and got him 

 to come and take a cup of coffee with me, which, though he 

 had some coffee-trees around his house, was still quite a treat, 

 as he had no sugar or molasses. From this place a road leads 

 overland about ten miles through the forest to Javita, a 

 village on the Temi, a branch of the Atabapo, which flows 

 into the Orinooko. Finding that I could get nothing to eat 

 here, I could not remain, as I had at first intended, but was 

 obliged to get my things all carried by road to Javita, and 

 determined to walk over the next day to see about getting men 

 to do it. In the evening I took my gun, and strolled along the 

 road a little way into the forest, at the place I had so long looked 

 forward to reaching, and was rewarded by falling in with one 

 of the lords of the soil, which I had long wished to encounter. 



