A GERMAN SLAVE 
were more minute and differently shaped. It must be 
remembered that nearly all the trees of the Brazilian 
forest had leaves only at a very good height above the 
ground, and it was not always easy to see their shape, 
especially when close to other trees where the foliage 
became interwoven into an almost solid mass. We fre¬ 
quently enjoyed the sweet milk of the sorveira; it tasted 
slightly of fresh walnuts with sugar on them. It was 
unsafe to drink too much of it, as it had injurious effects 
upon one’s digestive organs. 
There was also the leiteiro (or producer of milk), a 
smaller tree, and the liane macaco, both of which produced 
abundant milk, but in neither case had a way, so far, been 
found to coagulate it. 
The two days spent at Porto Velho were interesting. 
The four men who had remained with me behaved fairly 
well, principally owing to the prospect that, in drifting 
down stream, they would not have to work, and would 
he saved the heavy trouble of grooming, packing, and 
unpacking the animals, and the tedious job every morning 
of riding miles through the country in order to recover 
those that had strayed away during the night. 
“ Thank heaven! ” exclaimed Antonio, as he gazed 
at the canoe, “ we shall not have to hunt for her every 
morning! ” 
“ Yes,” answered Filippe, “ no more pack-saddles to 
fix, no more leading the animals to drink. She,” point¬ 
ing to the canoe, “ can drink all the time if she likes.” 
Filippe was a prophet. The canoe did “ drink ” all 
the time, much to our concern. Little did my men suspect 
before we started that they would have the hardest time 
of their lives, so hard, indeed, that it was amazing humans 
could endure it at all. 
One of the three seringueiros at Porto Velho interested 
me greatly. He was a tall, gentlemanly, refined person, 
who seldom uttered a word. I noticed that he avoided 
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