CHAPTER XII. 
A CREEK INFESTED BY SNAKES.—SNAKE IN THE BOAT.— 
AN UGLY VISITOR. 
IT is intensely hot. We are at the end of the month 
of March, and the rays of the sun are pouring upon us 
with a power which is terrific. Every two or three 
minutes I dip my umbrella into the water, for after this 
lapse of time it is perfectly dry; green leaves and a 
_ wet handkerchief are in my Panama hat, which now and 
then I also dip into the water of the stream. 
You will ask me in what kind of country I find my- 
self in such a plight. I am in a very complicated net- 
work, of creeks, swamps, dense forest, and overflowed 
lands, forming a delta, which in the work I publish- 
ed in 1861 I named the Delta of the Ogobai. For several 
days I have been here in a canoe exploring the country 
by water. What a lonely place! We have not seen a 
single village, we have met not a single human being; 
it is a complete desolation, and on the day in question 
it seemed more desolate than usual. The creek we had » 
got into was narrow, and on both sides there was an in- 
terminable forest of palms, that kind which yields bitter 
nuts to eat; these grow to the water’s-edge and many 
of their graceful branches are bathed in the stream. 
The current was strong, and evidently a tremendous 
