ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
funny part of it all was that we eventually had to go away 
disappointed, leaving the bird perched on that very same 
branch. 
As the days went by and we could find nothing to eat, 
my two men lost their courage entirely. They now refused 
to suffer any longer. They said they had not the strength 
to go back, so they wanted to lie down and die. Many 
times a day did I have to lift them up again and persuade 
them gently to come on another few hundred metres or so. 
Perhaps then we might find the great river Madeira, where 
we should certainly meet traders from whom we could 
get food. 
Filippe the negro was a great smoker. He had 
brought some tobacco with him, and he had so far smoked 
all the time. He said that as long as he had a cigarette in 
his mouth he did not feel the pangs of hunger quite so 
much. 
Since my return to civilization I have been constantly 
told by smokers that if I had been a smoker too I might 
have suffered less than I did. Now let me tell you what 
happened to smoker Filippe when his tobacco came to an 
end, on that painful march. Filippe became a raving 
lunatic, and in a fit” of passion was about to stick right 
through his heart the large knife with which we cut our 
way through the forest. I had quite a struggle in order to 
get the knife away from him, and an additional strain was 
placed upon my mind by keeping a constant watch on the 
knife, so that it could not be used for suicidal purposes. 
Poor Benedicto, who was of a less violent nature, from 
morning to night implored to be killed. The two together 
moaned and groaned incessantly, and accused me a hun¬ 
dred times a day of taking them there on purpose to die. 
They certainly made me feel the full and heavy weight 
of our tragic position. The mental strain of leading along 
those two poor fellows was indeed much more trying to 
me than the actual lack of food. 
264 
