282 A NATURALIST IN THE GUIANAS 



hour chewing canes, while Jacobson, Villegente, and my- 

 self were sweltering in the sun. When we reached the 

 settlement none of the men were there. They had gone, 

 Isidor's wife told us, on a hunting expedition, and she 

 did not expect them to return until late. The women 

 brought us cassava bread, yaraque, and coffee, which was 

 all they had. The provision gardens had suffered from 

 the prolonged drought, they said, in consequence of which 

 there were no bananas, yams, or sweet potatoes. They 

 had been subsisting for weeks almost exclusively on 

 cassava. They appeared to take but little interest in the 

 story of our misfortunes, and they showed no feeling over 

 Maite's death, although one of the women said she was 

 his sister. What had happened was just what might 

 happen to any Indian at any time. Why worry over the 

 inevitable, why grieve over a being that was dead and 

 gone? 



On our departure I left word for Isidor and the others 

 to join us on the following day, so that the relief expedi- 

 tion might be arranged with all despatch. At one o'clock 

 we paddled into the stream at La Prision. We tied our 

 boat to a tree at the landing-place, and then we crawled 

 up to Doiia Antonia's house. We must have been a 

 miserable-looking lot, for our kind-hearted hostess could 

 hardly restrain herself from bursting into tears while she 

 alternately hugged Jacobson and myself. All was bustle 

 and excitement at the settlement, and we soon had such 

 delicacies as soft-boiled eggs and fried bananas placed 

 before us. The men gorged the whole afternoon, as a 

 result of which they were sick for days after. 



