FEEDING ON MONKEYS 
them. Innumerable thorns were upon the ground. Our 
feet were full of them. I looked all the time where I was 
putting my feet, but sometimes the thorns were hidden 
under masses of dried foliage, and they were so long and 
so strong that they went clean through my shoes. 
The last blow came to me that evening, when my men 
informed me that we had no food whatever left. All 
that remained of our three months’ provisions were six 
tins of sardines and one tin of anchovies. That was all. 
My men made no secret of having thrown away every¬ 
thing as we came along. The sugar, for which they had 
a perfect craving, they had eaten, consuming in the last 
two days the entire supply of thirty pounds, which had 
lasted until now. It was then that I understood the 
cause of the internal inflammation from which they all 
suffered. They were greatly excited, and demanded the 
balance of their money, not wishing to go on any more; 
they wanted to fall back on the river Tapajoz and go 
home. There was a riot. They threatened to shoot me if 
I insisted on their coming on. 
Just then a big black monkey appeared upon a tree, 
inquisitively watching our actions. The man X shot it. 
A moment later a big jciho was brought down, also by the 
man X, who was the best shot of the party. My men 
were never too ill to eat. They immediately proceeded to 
skin the poor monkey and pluck the feathers from the 
bird, in order to prepare a hearty meal. But they com¬ 
plained that they had no feijao , and no coffee after their 
dinner. When we started a few days before we had a 
supply of forty pounds of coffee. 
Feasting on the meat did not seem to be a good remedy 
for internal inflammation and fever. The next morning 
my men were really in a precarious condition. I saw 
that it was out of the question for them to continue. 
Personally, I would certainly not go back. I came to 
an understanding with them that I would leave sufficient 
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