214 
Our Hunters Uetürn Empty-handed. 
euced a certain sense of satisfaction on killing one of these poisonous 
animals, because on sucli occasions the thought ever recurred that with 
its death I had saved the life of one of my fellow creatures. 
474. We anxiously aAvaited the late afternoon for the return of our 
hunters who had left this morning with the dogs in the direction of the 
valley, to follow the fresh tracks of a tapir that had been found yester- 
day : they returned home late in the evening but unfortunately as empty- 
handed as they had set out, the quarry not having shown itself. They 
also told us that tAVO of their party had only saved themselves by a jump 
from the bite of a rattlesnake, several of which had been come across 
during the trip. Our previous carelessness had consequently to be put 
aside. 
475. Since yesterday we had sent four of our Indians on ahead to cut 
at least a practical path through the brushwood up to the base of the 
wall. This was done, and Avhile yet twilight on the following morning, 
in company with U\o of them, I folloAved the troublesome track which 
ran up the mountain between two walls of vegetation. I can hardly 
call to mind such a tangle of thickets, trees, ferns and creepers. Tree 
stood on tree, their limbs closely locked: mosses, lichens, Jungermannias 
and ferns covered the tree trunks, the shrubs, and ragged crags that 
either emerged above the ground or else were scattered around as huge 
fragmentary masses. Everything trickled w4th moisture. Just as| if the 
clouds had burst into a sudden downpour. The laboriously won path 
led us over the sepulchre of countless plants: the moisture had turned 
everything into a slush in which Ave often sank up to our knees: now it 
went over small stretches of tr*ees torn up by the gale, the mouldering 
trunks of which were so slip]iery Avith lichens and moss that I slid off at 
almost eveiy step and then fell in up to my armpits betw^een the branches 
and stems, AA'hence my com]>anions had to pull me out: now and again 
it passed over jagged and decomposing rocks: then over the often foot- 
deep already decayed and yet still decaying masses of foliage and shrub 
that were covered with mushrooms and ferns. Wherever, as the result 
of one of those breaks in the forest, the rays of light could su])ply Avarmth 
to the huge black, dark-green, slippery boulders, and but a little humus 
had collected on their surface, there the Arum, Anthurium, Bromelia, 
'Heliconiae, Peperomlae, and tree-ferns struggled for existence. 
476. Though we had followed the tiresome and unfamiliar track for 
quite an hour, had swung ourselves up the rocky cliffs by means of 
dependent roots and creepers, and had let ourselves down again by their 
aid into deep declivities, I had not as yet seen the mighty stone colossus, 
and consequently did not know hoAvi much further we had to go. Just 
then a large carmine-red flower attracted my attention from amidst this 
forest-shaded labyrinth, and in delightful surprise I hastened to admire 
it at close quarters. The lovely blossoms were borne on a low plant 
with pale green branches, the leaves of which were opposite, long- 
petioled, dull green, glabrous, tapering at both ends, and complete. The 
flowers were without scent but instead of that were of unusual beauty 
with the carmine-red trayshaped corolla (präsentü'tellerförmiger 
Blumen'krone) having a milk-white centre radiating to the free edges of 
