ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
The red lamp necessary for photographic work was 
invariably a great nuisance. I do not believe that a 
compact, practical dark-room lamp has yet been invented 
which is really serviceable to an explorer. If it is a candle 
lamp the candle melts quickly in those hot countries, 
producing an extra large flame which generally cracks the 
red glass, and makes so much smoke that the upper 
aperture becomes blocked and puts the light out when 
you happen to be at the most crucial point of your work. 
The oil lanterns would be better, were it not for the 
difficulty and messy nuisance of carrying and refilling the 
lamp each time with oil. Electric lights, which are the 
only practical ones, of course are out of the question when 
you have to be away for a year or a year and a half, the 
storage batteries getting damaged easily by damp and the 
innumerable accidents which you have when exploring. 
The greatest care had to be used in repacking the 
developed glass plates. I owe to the care I took of them 
that I was able to bring back 800 excellent negatives out 
of 800 glass plates exposed. 
The night was a little warmer than usual on July 
fifteenth, minimum 53° Fahrenheit. There was a heavy 
mist over the river when we rose in the morning, and 
we had to delay our departure until 7.30 a.m. When 
the mist began to rise it hung about in beautiful curves 
converging to a common radiating centre to the west. 
During the night I had noticed a weird lunar effect, 
a perfect cross of immense proportions intersecting the 
crescent moon, which had a radiating halo surrounding it. 
Four thousand metres from our camp we came to a 
tributary three metres wide on the left side of the river. 
It came from the west-southwest. Near this a streamlet 
one metre wide entered the Arinos on the right side, and 
another streamlet of equal size farther down on the left 
bank. There was fairly thin forest on both sides as we 
went on, kilometre after kilometre, the water of the river 
72 
