JULIO'S CRIMES 291 



the expedition ; and he had the reputation of being a 

 good worker. But, like so many men of higher stand- 

 ing, he had had no idea of what such an expedition really 

 meant, and under the strain of toil, hardship, and danger 

 his nature showed its true depths of selfishness, coward- 

 ice, and ferocity. He shirked all work. He shammed 

 sickness. Nothing could make him do his share ; and 

 yet unlike his self-respecting fellows he was always 

 shamelessly begging for favours. Kermit was the only 

 one of our party who smoked, and he was continually 

 giving a little tobacco to some of the camaradas, who 

 worked especially well under him. The good men did 

 not ask for it ; but Julio, who shirked every labour, was 

 always, and always in vain, demanding it. Colonel 

 Rondon, Lyra, and Kermit each tried to get work out 

 of him, and in order to do anything with him had to 

 threaten to leave him in the wilderness. He threw all 

 his tasks on his comrades ; and, moreover, he stole their 

 food as well as ours. On such an expedition the theft 

 of food comes next to murder as a crime, and should by 

 rights be punished as such. We could not trust him to 

 cut down palms or gather nuts, because he would stay 

 out and eat what ought to have gone into the common 

 store. Finally, the men on several occasions themselves 

 detected him stealing their food. Alone of the whole 

 party, and thanks to the stolen food, he had kept in full 

 flesh and bodily vigour. 



One of our best men was a huge negro named Paixao 

 — Paishon— a corporal and acting sergeant in the en- 

 gineer corps. He had, by the way, literally torn his 

 trousers to pieces, so that he wore only the tatters of a 

 pair of old drawers until I gave him my spare trousers 

 when we lightened loads. He was a stern disciplinarian. 

 One evening he detected Julio stealing food and smashed 



