ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
he did not know what he was about. When the rails and 
the rollers were placed right the canoe slid along the 
distance which remained to be covered, and eventually- 
slid gracefully once more into the water. 
It was too bad that Alcides — one of the bravest of 
men—-should possess such a mean mind and such an 
ungrateful nature. Twice I had saved his life when he 
came within an ace of perishing in dangerous rapids, but 
never had he given thanks to me; never had he shown 
the slightest sign of recognition. Never, during the entire 
time he was in my employ, did he —- or any of my other 
men — say “ Good morning ” to me when we rose, or 
“ Good night ” when we retired to sleep. Two or three 
nights before this last adventure, during a heavy rain¬ 
storm, I had deprived myself of my own tent in order to 
shelter him and the other men, while I myself got 
drenched. 
“ He only does it,” said he, “ because he needs to keep 
us alive to do the work, or else he would not do it.” 
I received only offensive words for any kindnesses I 
showered on him and the others. 
It is seldom one could find a man with a more un¬ 
practical mind. He spent most of his energy working 
uselessly — and, mind you, very hard indeed — for noth¬ 
ing, but he could never be made to apply his strength in 
a sensible way. If I asked him to cut me a toothpick, 
he would proceed to cut down one of the largest trees 
in the neighbourhood and work for an hour or two until 
he had reduced a big section of it into the needed article. 
He wasted hours daily, and ruined all our axes and cutlery 
into the bargain, in scraping flat surfaces on rocks and 
on the hardest trees, on which he subsequently engraved 
his name and that of his lady-love whom he had left be¬ 
hind. He was really marvellous at calligraphy, and 
could certainly write the best hand of any man I have ever 
known. 
202 
