Canoe-life on the Napo. 213 



had some well-founded pretensions to beauty. Her coarse, 

 black hair was simply combed back, not braided into plaits 

 as commonly done by the Andean women. All, both male 

 and female, painted their faces with acliote to keep off the 

 sand-flies. 



Pratt managed the lielm (the governor could not work 

 the Yankee notion) and the kitchen. At Santa Rosa we 

 liad added to our Quito stock of provisions some manati- 

 lard (bottled up in a joint of a bamboo) and sirup, and at 

 Coca we took in three fowls, a bag of rice, and a bunch of 

 bananas. So we fared sumptuously every day. We left 

 Coca on Thanksgiving Day, November 28th, and to imitate 

 our distant friends, we sacrificed an extra meal— fricasseed 

 chicken, jerked beef, boiled yucas, bananas, oranges, lemon- 

 ade, and guayusa. Favored by a powerful current and the 

 rhythmic paddling of our Santa Rosans, we made this day 

 sixty miles ; but our average daily run was fifty miles. 

 Tlie winds (doubtless the trades) were almost unchangea- 

 bly from the east ; but an occasional puff would come from 

 the northwest, when we relieved our paddlers by hoisting 

 a blanket for a sail. Six o'clock was our usual hour of 

 departure, and ten or twelve hours our traveling time, al- 

 ways tying up at a plaia or island, of which there are hosts 

 in the Napo, but never to the main land, for fear of un- 

 friendly Indians and the still more unwelcome tiger. Our 

 crew encamped at a respectful though hailing distance. 



On the second day from Coca we were caught in a 

 squall, and to save our roof we ran ashore. Nearly ever}- 

 afternoon we were treated to a shower, accompanied by a 

 strong wind, but seldom by thunder and lightning, though 

 at Coca we had a brilliant thunder-storm at night. They 

 always came after a uniform fashion and at a regular 

 hour, so that we learned when to expect them. About 

 noon the eastern horizon would become suddenly black. 



