The River of Doubt 275 



times we saw lofty Brazil-nut trees rising above the rest 

 of the forest on the banks; and back from the river 

 these trees grow to enormous proportions, towering like 

 giants. There were great rubber-trees also, their leaves 

 always in sets of threes. Then the ground on either 

 hand rose into bowlder-strewn, forest-clad hills and the 

 roar of broken water announced that once more our 

 course was checked by dangerous rapids. Round a bend 

 we came on them; a wide descent of white water, with 

 an island in the middle, at the upper edge. Here grave 

 misfortune befell us, and graver misfortune was nar- 

 rowly escaped. 



Kermit, as usual, was leading in his canoe. It was 

 the smallest and least seaworthy of all. He had in it 

 little except a week's supply of our boxed provisions 

 and a few tools; fortunately none of the food for the 

 camaradas. His dog Trigueiro was with him. Besides 

 himself, the crew consisted of two men: Joao, the helms- 

 man, or pilot, as he is called in Brazil, and Simplicio, the 

 bowsman. Both were negroes and exceptionally good 

 men in every way. Kermit halted his canoe on the left 

 bank, above the rapids, and waited for the colonel's 

 canoe. Then the colonel and Lyra walked down the bank 

 to see what was ahead. Kermit took his canoe across 

 to the island to see whether the descent could be better 

 accomplished on the other side. Having made his in- 

 vestigation, he ordered the men to return to the bank he 

 had left, and the dugout was headed up-stream accord- 

 ingly. Before they had gone a dozen yards, the paddlers 

 digging their paddles with all their strength into the 

 swift current, one of the shifting whirlpools of which 



