8o 



OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 



Stool in a shady spot, and, figuratively, lay himself at my feet 

 to serve me, and Maestro — even pugnacious Maestro — 

 would weave wonderful basliets for me of the roots of the man- 

 grove; baslvets in nests of twelve, each fitting snugly within 

 the other and all gayly dyed with the Venezuelan colors, the 



Fig. 43. SxmsET m the Mangrove Wilderness. 



pigments being extracted from the leaves or stems of unknown 

 wild plants. 



The time passed all too quickly with each day spent on the 

 Guarapiche river — a gleaming stage, with a setting of green 

 trees, brilliant flowers and fragrant orchids, and an ever- 

 changing plot with ever-changing actors. Of them all, man 

 was the least important. There were populous villages of 



