KAIETEUR AND RORAIMA 



235 



den was carried in the typical basket 

 borne upon the back and supported by 

 •bands of tough bark which pass over the 

 "shoulders and across the forehead. 



The carriers would reach the camp 

 about noon and receive their stipulated 

 ration sitting about the little fire, over 

 which they boiled the rice and roasted 

 the meat. Then, chatting and laughing, 

 they would depart to Tukeit, to repeat 

 the climb on the morrow. 



One memorable night I had sent every 

 one down and remained alone. It was 

 this particular time that was chosen by 

 a jaguar to stalk and rush a tapir, and 

 both of the animals plunged through the 

 forest a few yards from my hammock. 

 Of course, one always sleeps with fire- 

 arms within reach, for many things may 

 befall in those wilds. 



With the last of the loads, a week later, 

 Dr. Lutz came up and final preparations 

 were made for further progress. Long 

 before this the enforced decision had 

 been made to leave my colleague here 

 and to venture on without him. 



Heavy rains and vexatious delays had 

 reduced the available time, so that the 

 remainder of the projected trip needed 

 to be made in rapid order, if at all ; and 

 ordinarily two white men cannot travel 

 as fast as one, because the doubled 

 chances of illness must be taken into 

 account. 



So the goods were put aboard the 

 wooden punt, which my Indians had 

 brought down from an abandoned plan- 

 tation up the river, as well as on the 

 wooden dug-outs, or "corials," and the 

 still more primitive "wood-skins." The 

 last named are merely lengths of bark 

 from a large forest tree, which have the 

 ends brought up by cross-sticks, so as to 

 give a freeboard of three or four inches ; 

 yet a hundred pounds of freight and two 

 Indians can be supported by such a frail 

 craft. 



Waving farewells to Dr. Lutz, as he 

 stood on the bank with the Indian man 

 and two boys left with him, our little 

 flotilla passed around a bend of the river 

 toward the unknown experiences of the 

 future. 



High forests came down to the very 

 edge of the water, and the trees were so 

 festooned with vines or "lianas" as to 



constitute a veritable wall, which re- 

 echoed the crash of the paddles on the 

 gunwales of the boats, as from a cliff of 

 rock. 



Thirty miles of hard paddling against 

 the swollen current of the upper Potaro 

 River brought us, after three days, to 

 Chenapowu, a region of widely scattered 

 Indian settlements consisting of one or 

 two huts at the most. 



At Chenapowu began the long walk, for 

 the projected route to Roraima trended 

 due west, at right angles to the smaller 

 streams of Guiana and the larger north- 

 ern tributaries of the Amazon. 



More than a hundred miles through 

 almost trackless country lay between us 

 and the mountain, and although the dis- 

 tance itself was not long, yet the difficul- 

 ties to be met rendered it far greater in 

 experience. 



In preparation for the long march the 

 equipment was slightly reduced in bulk 

 and the bearers were increased to twenty- 

 five, and soon we filed off into the heavy 

 forests that intervened between Chena- 

 powu and the Brazilian border. 



STUMBLING THROUGH THE JUNGLE 



It is impossible adequately to describe 

 the arduous journeys of the next five 

 days. Every day, about the time of start- 

 ing from the temporary camp of the 

 night, the sky clouded and the rain poured 

 down on the dense tree-tops, which 

 formed a veritable canopy to collect the 

 waters and to pour them in streams upon 

 the stumbling travelers beneath. 



In the deep gloom the feet caught on 

 the interlaced roots of the trees, which, 

 unable to enter the hard ground, ramified 

 like traps under the thick wet cover of 

 fallen leaves. 



The eye searched the ground for the 

 little deadly labarria and the "bushmaster" 

 (a worthy rival of the king cobra in 

 strength and venom), which so closely 

 resemble in coloration the dark-blotched 

 earth that the closest scrutiny of the line 

 of travel must be incessantly kept. 



Up steep slopes of 500 feet or more, 

 clinging to the bushes, and down gullies, 

 where the swollen streams must be forded 

 waist and shoulder deep, day after day, 

 the human wayfarers struggled on to- 



