ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
meeting me, and, although extremely civil, seemed afraid 
to enter into conversation. The little shed he had built 
himself (7 feet by 4 feet, and 7 feet high) was extraordi¬ 
narily neat, and open on all sides, quite unlike the sheds 
Brazilian rubber collectors build themselves. 
From my tent I watched him. The map got up 
before sunrise every day, going at once to the river for a 
swim. Humming some sort of a song, he would then go 
through a series of gymnastic exercises, interrupted by 
sonorous slaps upon different parts of his anatomy to kill 
impertinent mosquitoes, of which there were swarms on 
the Arinos River. That done, he would assume a suit of 
working-clothes, and, returning to his shed, would pick 
up his tools and noiselessly depart, so as not to disturb 
our sleep. At sunset, when he returned, he immediately 
proceeded to the river to have another swim and to get rid 
of the many insects which always collected upon one’s 
person in going through the forest. Then he put on a 
clean suit of clothes, and, saluting us from a distance, 
went to his shed to rest. 
I was certain the man was not a Brazilian, but as 
curiosity is not one of my chief characteristics, I took no 
special notice of him. This brought him round to my 
tent one evening. The man was a German by birth, of 
a good family and excellent education. He could speak 
German, English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese to 
perfection, and was well versed in the literature of those 
languages. He had evidently drifted about for many 
years in many parts of South America in search of a 
fortune, in the Argentine, in Uruguay, and had ended 
by becoming a slave in Brazil. Yes, the poor old man 
was a voluntary slave. He had borrowed from his em¬ 
ployer and was unable to repay. He was therefore a 
slave in the true sense of the word, as his employer 
could, according to local custom, sell him to any one he 
chose. 
10 
