ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
Albuquerque and his wife stood by my hammock watch¬ 
ing me, Albuquerque shaking his head compassionately, 
asking me if I wanted to write a last word to my family, 
which he would send down by the trading boat when she 
arrived. I well remember hearing his voice faintly, as 
I was in a half-dazed condition, but I had not the strength 
to answer. As he walked out of the room he said to his 
wife: 44 Poor fellow! he will not be alive in another hour! ” 
Albuquerque was a most thoughtful Brazilian, intel¬ 
ligent and well-educated, quite superior for the position 
he occupied there. 
I was still alive on October ninth, much to the surprise 
of everybody, and feeling much better. There was a 
great slaughter of chickens, Albuquerque saying that I 
needed chicken broth badly; in fact, that day I drank 
cup after cup, and it seemed to give me a little strength. 
Although those chickens had a local value of about <£1 
sterling each, Albuquerque would not hear of my paying 
for them. I knew what inconvenience it would be for 
him to slaughter them in that fashion, as he could not 
replace them perhaps for several months. 
Good news came that day, when Albuquerque’s wife 
entered the room saying that some trading boats were 
coming up the river, she could see them a long way off, 
just getting over the Capueras Falls. I decided to go 
up in one of those boats as far as the Fiscal Agency at 
S. Manoel, where I could obtain fresh clothes and pro¬ 
visions. Remaining still indoors I felt was killing me. 
The boats did not arrive that evening. The next day, 
October tenth, rain came down in sheets, so that we could 
not see more than a few metres in front of us, and the 
wind was howling with fury. 
On October eleventh, when the boats approached, 
Albuquerque took me up in a small canoe to them on the 
other side of the wide stream. It was the trading fleet 
of Don Eulogio Mori, a Peruvian trader, who at once 
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