802 
At Tumatumari I met my crew of 
seven Indians. Grant was the only one 
of them who could speak English, but 
they were a splendid lot, just civilized 
enough to be willing to work for a white 
man and still unspoiled. Taking them in 
the launch with me I reached Potaro 
Landing at noon. We cooked our break- 
fast on the clearing in front of the store- 
house, for the landing is absolutely the 
last river settlement and it does not af- 
ford a rest-house or even a store. 
After our meal the Indians strapped 
the boxes of provisions on their naked 
backs, and we started on a seven-mile 
tramp through the bush to a spot digni- 
fied by the name of Kangarooma. The 
river above Potaro Landing turns at a 
sharp angle and is blocked by a cataract. 
By walking across we shortened the dis- 
tance and portaged the fall. 
On the march we used every precau- 
tion against poisonous snakes. We act- 
ually came across only one, which we 
carefully avoided. I carried with me 
some strong ammonia as well as a sharp 
knife and a bandage, for although the 
dangerous snakes are rare one must be 
prepared in case of an attack. 
I am thankful to a defunct rubber com- 
pany for the accommodations they have 
left along the Potaro. At Kangarooma 
there is a clearing, now overgrown with 
thick underbrush, and a house of gal- 
vanized iron, where I hung my hammock 
on Wednesday night. There are draw- 
backs to such shelters in the jungle, how- 
ever. The bats and spiders which had 
made this hut their home were not at all 
compatible to my temperament. I found 
myself dreaming of them in the night. 
All the boxes could not be brought 
over from Potaro Landing in one carry, 
so the next morning was spent in finish- 
ing the job. It was not until 2 o'clock 
that we started again. 
The boat that we found at Kanga- 
rooma was a flat-bottomed punt that 
leaked badly, but it held us up and made 
some headway against the strong cur- 
rent. The boxes were piled in the mid- 
dle and a large piece of canvas which we 
used for a sheltervat night made a com- 
TA NATIONAL CEhOGRA PEC MAGAZINE 
fortable seat for me on top of them. 
Grant, standing in the stern, held a large 
oar with which to steer. The other six 
took their position along the side, with 
one in front lof the) others) tojseumude 
stroke. It was a peculiar stroke, as if 
they were digging holes in the water, 
using the paddles on the side of the boat 
as a lever. Between the strokes they 
would touch the middle of the oars on 
the gunwale, so that they could keep in 
time by the sound. Every minute or so 
the bowman would splash the water high 
in the air and follow by a half stroke to 
vary the monotony. It was slow work, 
but by keeping it up all day the curves in 
the river changed before and behind us, 
and so I knew that we made headway. 
That night we camped by the side of 
the river, spreading the great tarpaulin 
above us for a shelter. The Indians were 
wonderfully skillful in woodcraft, and it 
was amusing to see with what scorn they 
watched my negro cook making a fire out 
of wet wood. 
By 6 the next morning we had our 
coffee and were off again. Sticking close 
to the bank to avoid the current, it was, 
nevertheless, a hard pull, and once the 
men got out into water up to their waists 
and dragged the boat through some 
rapids. I was afraid one of the big alli- 
gators which we frequently saw along 
the bank would be tempted to take a bite 
of them, but fortunately no such acci- 
dent occurred. Fish are more danger- 
ous. One variety numbs by an actual 
electric shock and then feasts on the body 
of its victim. Another sort is fitted with 
the sharpest enameled teeth and can bite 
off a finger or toe at a snap. There is 
likewise a fish whose sting is dangerous. 
We reached Amatuk Falls in time for 
breakfast and made the portage by noon. 
The falls are not high, but I clambered 
out into the rocks in the middle of the 
river and had a very pretty view of them, 
with the water roaring about my feet. 
We passed on by 1 o'clock and the chug 
and click of the paddles continued up the 
river. By 6 we had come nearly to the 
next portage at the Waratuk Cataract. 
The darkness comes abruptly, however, 
