DOWN AN UNKNOWN RIVER 303 



shirked all work. He shammed sickness. Nothing could 

 make him do his share; and yet unlike his self-respecting 

 fellows he was always shamelessly begging for favors. 

 Kermit was the only one of our party who smoked; and 

 he was continually giving a little tobacco to some of the 

 camaradas, who worked especially well under him. The 

 good men did not ask for it; but Julio, who shirked every 

 labor, was always, and always in vain, demanding it. 

 Colonel Rondon, Lyra, and Kermit each tried to get work 

 out of him, and in order to do anything with him had to 

 threaten to leave him in the wilderness. He threw all his 

 tasks on his comrades; and, moreover, he stole their food 

 as well as ours. On such an expedition the theft of food 

 comes next to murder as a crime, and should by rights be 

 punished as such. We could not trust him to cut down 

 palms or gather nuts, because he would stay out and eat 

 what ought to have gone into the common store. Fi- 

 nally, the men on several occasions themselves detected 

 him stealing their food. Alone of the whole party, and 

 thanks to the stolen food, he had kept in full flesh and 

 bodily vigor. 



One of our best men was a huge negro named Paixao 

 — Paishon — a corporal and acting sergeant in the engineer 

 corps. He had, by the way, literally torn his trousers to 

 pieces, so that he wore only the tatters of a pair of old 

 drawers until I gave him my spare trousers when we light- 

 ened loads. He was a stern disciplinarian. One evening 

 he detected Julio stealing food and smashed him in the 

 mouth. Julio came crying to us, his face working with 

 fear and malignant hatred; but after investigation he was 

 told that he had gotten off uncommonly lightly. The men 



