The River of Doubt 255 



old Indian fields, grown up with coarse fern and studded 

 with the burned skeletons of trees. At the mouth of a 

 brook which entered from the right some sticks stood in 

 the water, marking the site of an old fish-trap. At one 

 point we found the tough vine hand-rail of an Indian 

 bridge running right across the river, a couple of feet 

 above it. Evidently the bridge had been built at low 

 water. Three stout poles had been driven into the 

 stream-bed in a line at right angles to the current. The 

 bridge had consisted of poles fastened to these supports, 

 leading between them and from the support at each end 

 to the banks. The rope of tough vines had been stretched 

 as a hand-rail, necessary with such precarious footing. 

 The rise of the river had swept away the bridge, but the 

 props and the rope hand-rail remained. In the afternoon, 

 from the boat, Cherrie shot a large dark-gray monkey 

 with a prehensile tail. It was very good eating. 



We camped on a dry level space, but a few feet above, 

 and close beside, the river — so that our swimming-bath 

 was handy. The trees were cleared and camp was made 

 with orderly hurry. One of the men almost stepped on 

 a poisonous coral-snake, which would have been a serious 

 thing, as his feet were bare. But I had on stout shoes, 

 and the fangs of these serpents — ^unlike those of the 

 pit-vipers — are too short to penetrate good leather. I 

 promptly put my foot on him, and he bit my shoe with 

 harmless venom. It has been said that the brilliant hues 

 of the coral-snake when in its native haunts really confer 

 on it a concealing coloration. In the dark and tangled 

 woods, and to an only less extent in the ordinary varied 

 landscape, anything motionless, especially if partially 



