ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
The forest was fairly clean underneath, and we had 
no great difficulty in getting through, a cut every now 
and then with the knife being sufficient to make a passage 
for us. I had by that time entirely given up the idea of 
opening a regular picada, over which I could eventually 
take the men and baggage I had left behind. 
We found that day a palm with a bunch of small nuts 
which Renedicto called coco do matto; he said they were 
delicious to eat, so we proceeded to cut down the tall palm 
tree. When we came to split open the small cocos, our 
disappointment was great, for they contained merely 
water. There was nothing whatever to eat inside the hard 
shells. We spent some two hours that evening cracking 
the cocos — some two hundred of them — each nut about 
the size of a cherry. They were extremely hard to crack, 
and our expectant eyes were disappointed two hundred 
times in succession, as we opened every one and found 
nothing whatever to eat in them. 
We were beginning to feel extremely weak, with a 
continuous feeling of emptiness in our insides. Personally, 
I felt no actual pain. The mental strain, perhaps, was the 
most trying thing for me, for I had no idea when we might 
find food. I was beginning to feel more than ever the 
responsibility of taking those poor fellows there to suffer 
for my sake. On their side they certainly never let one 
moment go by during the day or night without reminding 
me of the fact. 
On September seventh I had the greatest difficulty in 
getting the men out of their hammocks. They were so 
exhausted that I could not rouse them. We had had a 
terrific storm during the night, which had added misery 
to our other sufferings. Innumerable ants were now 
causing us a lot of damage. Filippe’s coat, which had 
dropped out of his hammock, was found in the morning, 
entirely destroyed. Those miniature demons also cut the 
string to which I had suspended my shoes in mid-air, and 
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