48 



LAUNCHED A RAFT AT FOOT OF ANDES. 



reckoning, we have travelled nine miles; a bush, house was constructed; 

 our beds, the bare ground ; the dogs lay by us ; they had ranged about 

 in all directions during the day, and were well tired. The padre called 

 one of them Paititi, after a large town of the Chunchos, in the wilder- 

 ness to the northeast of us ; another Alerto, (vigilant ;) a third Cahezon, 

 (big head ;) and the fourth, Valedor, (protector.) Paititi was a middle- 

 sized, short-tailed, chocolate-colored dog, the bravest and most active. 

 The padre kindly presented him to me. One of the Indians was taken 

 sick; I administered three anti-bilious pills, which cured him after a 

 sleep. Cutting enough balsa wood early in the morning, the logs were 

 fastened together, and the first North American-built raft launched upon 

 this tributary of the Amazon. I embarked with Leechler and one old 

 Indian for the opposite shore. There were falls above and below us ; 

 the current swift ; we poled part of the way, but soon found the river 

 too deep for that process. We landed on a rocky little island, after 

 being nearly carried over the falls ; Leechler lost the balsa on his return 

 for the padre ; the current was too swift for him, and he had to swim for 

 life, while our bark was swiftly carried down stream, and wrecked against 

 the rocks. At 1 p. m., thermometer in the sun, 100° ; temperature of 

 the river water, 70°. In the evening, Leechler had been working with 

 the padre and the Indians, cutting more timber. He swam over, and 

 spent the night on the island with me, in preference to sleeping in the 

 woods ; we lay down upon the rocks, under a heavy rain, with loud claps 

 of thunder, which echoed up the Andes. At midnight, the old Indian 

 called us from our bed of water ; the river was rising ; the night was 

 dark, and rain poured down. A match was lit, when it was discovered 

 we could not escape ; we saw the rushing waters between us and the 

 shore ; a sudden rise of three feet would carry us off. Leecher assured 

 me we could not gain the shore by swimming. The old Indian said "I 

 was a bad man for bringing him there, when he could not swim." A 

 mark was placed by the edge of the water, and we seated ourselves very 

 uncomfortably to await our fate. The roaring of the waters was terrible. 

 Leechler looking at the mark, finds our island very much reduced in 

 size by the flood. The old Indian hears the dogs bark, and we think 

 the Chunchos are attacking the padre on the main land ; I blamed my- 

 self for bringing these people so far. Should the stream continue to rise 

 at its present rate, we must be lost ; suddenly, the old Indian looking 

 up, turned to me with brightening eyes, pointed to the southeast, and 

 said in Quichua, " day-break." This was great relief, particularly as I 

 saw the Indian smile ; it was expressive, natural, and knowing. As the 

 day-light came, the storm cleared off, and we survey our prison. The 



