270 THE RIVER OF DOUBT [chap, viii 



all around our camp. As many of the nearest of their 

 holes as we could we stopped with fire ; but at night 

 some of them got into our tents and ate things we could 

 lU spare. In the early morning a column of foraging 

 ants appeared, and we drove them back, also with fire. 

 When the sky was not overcast the sun was very hot, 

 and we spread out everything to dry. There were many 

 wonderful butterflies round about, but only a few birds. 

 Yet in the early morning and late afternoon there was 

 some attractive bird-music in the woods. The two best 

 performers were our old friend the false bell-bird, with 

 its series of ringing whistles, and a shy, attractive ant- 

 thrush. The latter walked much on the ground, with 

 dainty movements, courtesying, and raising its tail ; and 

 in accent and sequence, although not in tone or time, its 

 song resembled that of our white-throated sparrow. 



It was three weeks since we had started down the 

 River of Doubt. We had come along its winding 

 course about 140 kilometres, with a descent of some- 

 where in the neighbourhood of 124 metres. It had been 

 slow progress. We could not tell what physical obstacles 

 were ahead of us, nor whether the Indians would be 

 actively hostile. But a river normally describes in its 

 course a parabola, the steep descent being in the upper 

 part ; and we hoped that in the future we should not 

 have to encounter so many and such difficult rapids as 

 we had already encountered, and that therefore we would 

 make better time — a hope destined to failure. 



