The Indians Fool oim Heroes. 
295 
thread, and who had persisted in accompanying ns on our journey to the 
interior, — these very individuals now trembled and quaked like children 
at a danger which in comparison with man’s courage ceased to be such, 
and made themselves the laughing-stock and gibe of others to whom they 
believed themselves infinitely superior. We hardly could have pulled a 
few hundred strokes in the deep silence when the Indians commenced 
chaffing: all of a sudden the short and half suppressed shout “Matti, 
Caraiba!” (almost all the tribes of the interior call the Brazilians 
Caraiba) was heard, and the whole of the black, white, and brownish 
crew crumpled with fright like aspen leaves, and strained their eyes in 
the waterside bush, until the suppressed laughter of the Indians let 
them see that their anxiety and misery were only being made sport of. 
835. It was quite easy to foretell what would happen if a surprise- 
attack were really to take place. Under such circumstances what 
would have been the use of the large number of poltroons who already 
winced at every sound of a frightened mammal or rising bird on the 
densely foliaged bank and took it for a Brazilian in the act of training 
his gun on them? The numerous clouds of smoke rising ahead and at 
our side in the distant savannah, and my brother’s carelessly uttered 
remark that the Brazilians had probably set it ablaze added fuel to the 
fright of our faint-hearted heroes. 
83G. That ominous spot Wai-ipukari Inlet upon which, according to 
the imagination of the valiant crew, life and liberty depended, showed 
up at last. Every tree, every bush was examined and scanned in mortal 
terror, lest perhaps the dreaded enemy was under cover: lie was nowhere 
to be seen or heard. We landed on the right bank where we pitched 
our temporary camp as we wanted to remain a few days and at the same 
time forward the Governor’s despatches to the commandant of Pirara. 
837. Wai-ipukari Inlet, in 3° 38' lat. K, and 59° 11' long. W. is the 
“Port of the imperial and golden city of Manoa” : a path leads from there 
to the Macusi village of Pirara on the bank of the Amucu, the “large lake 
with golden edges, 1 ’ the terminus of our present river-trip. With our big 
heavily-freighted boats we had now successfully completed a dangerous 
passage of more than 300 miles against stream over a number of raging 
rapids and other obstacles: we had spent more than six weeks squeezed 
up in the narrow confines of the corials and, in addition to the continuous 
exertion, we had bad to bear the rack and torture of the sandflies ever 
since we reached the mouth of the Rupununi. The inlet was accordingly 
hailed by us with delight, but less so by the crowd of heroes who were 
still ever fearful of their life and liberty. 
838. Pirara was yet 11 miles inland and Mr. Fryer, who very 
readily undertook the order, was commissioned to deliver the despatches; 
the more the two Germans and coloured people who were to accompany 
him kicked against the pricks, the less it helped them. He left camp 
next morning with his heroes who took farewell of their friends in a last 
good-bye; their return could not be expected under two days. After 
this party had got out of sight, another was sent off to the Awaricuru 
River to clean it of its overhanging branches and trees : it opens into the 
Rupununi upon the left bank a few miles above Wai-ipukari Inlet and 
