92 
NOTES OF A BOTANIST 
entangled bamboos and cutgrass, which were 
passable only on our hands and knees. The day 
was excessively sultry — not a breath of air stirring 
— when suddenly the sky became overcast, and the 
solemn stillness was broken by a soughing in the 
forest, soon deepening into a roar, and a terrible 
thunderstorm burst upon us. In the midst of this. 
King stopped to break open the shell of a castanha, 
and got left behind. The torrents of rain so obscured 
the air, and the incessant roll of thunder and the 
pattering of the raindrops on the leaves so deadened 
every other sound, that for some time we did not 
miss him, nor hear him calling out to us, as he 
afterwards told us he had done. We thought he 
would surely soon rejoin us by following the down- 
ward course of the igarape ; but by halting for him 
I lost sight also of Manoel, and half an hour elapsed 
before we found each other again. I then made 
him climb a lofty tree, and I from its foot, he from 
the top, called on our companion until we were 
hoarse. I bade him look out also for the river, 
but he declared he could see naught but tree-tops. 
It had got to 3 o'clock, when, to our very great 
joy, we heard King's voice, and he shortly after- 
wards came up with us. After picking his chestnuts 
out of their shell, he had by mistake gone up a 
tributary of the igarape, and the rise was so slight 
that he did not suspect his error until he had gone 
about a mile, when by floating two leaves he 
ascertained which way the water ran, and immedi- 
ately retraced his steps. 
The igarape seemed endless, and we were begin- 
ning to fear it would end in some palm- swamp, 
when, at about 4 p.m., and just as the rain was 
