46 RUBBER 



imagines they are merely for the use of men who want 

 to go a-fishing for a few hours, or for anyone who has 

 to make short river- trips. On going down to the 

 landing-stage a few hours later — if he is in this part of 

 the world during the early months of the year — he is 

 surprised to find that some of those old tubs have 

 been transformed into tent-boats, that the space 

 beneath each awning is crowded with stacks of small 

 cargo, such as packing-cases, hammocks, pots and 

 pans, and that round and above the piled-up goods 

 and chattels stretch long lengths of string laden with 

 calabashes. He is still more surprised when he learns 

 that a large party of balata-bleeders is about to set 

 forth in these boats on a two, three, or four weeks' 

 journey. Not an inch of accommodation does there 

 seem to be left for passengers ; yet several men manage 

 to squeeze into each boat. They pass long day after 

 long day in their cramped quarters, smoking, gossiping, 

 dozing, and taking their turn at the paddles. At night 

 they go ashore, and camp in the forest ; they light a 

 fire, have a picnic, sling their hammocks, and turn into 

 sleep until daylight makes it possible for them to get 

 a little farther on their way to work. On days when 

 they have to navigate one set of rapids after another, 

 and drag the boat overland past fall after fall, it is 

 but a very little farther they are able to push forward. 



The labourers who leave Kockstone by launch find 

 little boats waiting for them when they reach the camp 

 that is situated at the terminus of civilized travelling 

 facilities in the wilds. They then have to rough it for 

 the rest of their journey. 



On one of the riverways which leads to many grants, 

 there is no steamer or launch to help the labourers on 



