236 THE RIVER OF DOUBT [chap, viii 



like great ropes. Masses of epiphytes grew both on the 

 dead trees and the living ; some had huge leaves like 

 elephants' ears. Now and then fragrant scents were 

 blown to us from flowers on the banks. There 

 were not many birds, and for the most part the forest 

 was silent; rarely we heard strange calls from the depths 

 of the woods, or saw a cormorant or ibis. 



My canoe ran only a couple of hours. Then we halted 

 to wait for the others. After a couple of hours more, as 

 the surveyors had not turned up, we landed and made 

 camp at a spot where the bank rose sharply for a hundred 

 yards to a level stretch of ground. Our canoes were 

 moored to trees. The axemen cleared a space for the 

 tents ; they were pitched, the baggage was brought up, 

 and fires were kindled. The woods were almost sound- 

 less. Through them ran old tapir trails, but there was 

 no fresh sign. Before nightfall the surveyors arrived. 

 There were a few piums and gnats, and a few mosquitoes 

 after dark, but not enough to make us uncomfortable. 

 The small stingless bees, of shghtly aromatic odour, 

 swarmed while daylight lasted, and crawled over our 

 faces and hands ; they were such tame, harmless little 

 things that when they tickled too much I always tried to 

 brush them away without hurting them. But they 

 became a great nuisance after a whUe. It had been 

 raining at intervals, and the weather was overcast ; but 

 after the sun went down the sky cleared. The stars 

 were brUliant overhead, and the new moon hung in the 

 west. It was a pleasant night, the air almost cool, and 

 we slept soundly. 



Next morning the two surveying canoes left immedi- 

 ately after breakfast. An hour later the two pairs of 

 lashed canoes pushed off. I kept our canoe to let Cherrie 

 collect, for in the early hours we could hear a number of 



