AN ANXIOUS MOMENT 
again, still holding on to the rope, Alcides had dis¬ 
appeared. He had been pitched clean out of the canoe. 
Fortunately, a moment later I saw that he was clinging 
to the steering gear, which we had made extra fast in 
order that it might stand the great strain. 
We managed to pull the canoe and Alcides close to the 
rocks. Eventually we all had to go into the water up 
to our necks and lead the canoe by hand with the greatest 
care in the swift current for the remaining distance. Once 
or twice we were nearly overpowered by the current, and 
we were glad when, nearly two hours later, our job was 
finished, and, absolutely exhausted, we made camp for the 
night on the rocks. 
The men were so excited that during the entire night 
they sat up commenting on the experience of the day. 
Their remarks were quite amusing, especially their imita¬ 
tions of the rush of the water, the bumping of the canoe, 
and Alcides’ sudden disappearance and narrow escape 
from drowning. 
The waterfall and rapids spread across the river at 
that spot for some 650 metres. During the night of 
July twenty-fourth the thermometer showed a minimum 
temperature of 62 ° Fahrenheit. 
I noticed a small streamlet one metre wide on the 
left bank, and to the west-southwest a conical hill rising 
over a gently sloping undulating range 350 feet above the 
river level, that is to say, about 1,400 feet above the sea 
level. 
A strong wind sprang up, which caught us sidewise 
and produced such high waves breaking over the canoe, 
and so severe a motion, that my men became ill and we 
had to stop, until the wind abated, on a small charming 
island. As we were approaching the island Alcides sent 
us right over a rock which was sticking some two feet 
above water. The bottom of the canoe was so scraped in 
the violent collision that a good deal of the stuffing with 
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