316 THROUGH THE BRAZILIAN WILDERNESS 



made twenty-five kilometres — after running two hours and 

 a half we found on the left bank a board on a post, with 

 the initials J. A., to show the farthest-up point which a 

 rubber-man had reached and claimed as his own. An hour 

 farther down we came on a newly built house in a little 

 planted clearing; and we cheered heartily. No one was 

 at home, but the house, of palm thatch, was clean and 

 cool. A couple of dogs were on watch, and the belong- 

 ings showed that a man, a woman, and a child lived there, 

 and had only just left. Another hour brought us to a simi- 

 lar house where dwelt an old black man, who showed the 

 innate courtesy of the Brazilian peasant. We came on 

 these rubber-men and their houses in about latitude io° 24'. 

 In mid-afternoon we stopped at another clean, cool, 

 picturesque house of palm thatch. The inhabitants all fled 

 at our approach, fearing an Indian raid; for they were 

 absolutely unprepared to have any one come from the 

 unknown regions up-stream. They returned and were most 

 hospitable and communicative; and we spent the night 

 there. Said Antonio Correa to Kermit: "It seems like a 

 dream to be in a house again, and hear the voices of men 

 and women, instead of being among those mountains and 

 rapids." The river was known to them as the Castanho, 

 and was the main affluent, or rather the left or western 

 branch, of the Aripuanan; the Castanho is a name used 

 by the rubber-gatherers only; it is unknown to the geog- 

 raphers. We were, according to our informants, about fif- 

 teen days' journey from the confluence of the two rivers; 

 but there were many rubber-men along the banks, some of 

 whom had become permanent settlers. We had come over 

 three hundred kilometres, in forty-eight days, over abso- 



