ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
able vitality. Seven hours after it had been caught — I 
had no idea the poor thing was still alive — it gave several 
leaps in the air, and when I put it in a bucket of water, it 
shortly began to swim as if nothing had happened. 
There were only two or three very small dug-outs on 
the Araguaya, none of which were capable of carrying 
more than one or two people. There was no boat there 
large enough to carry all my men and baggage, had I 
even at that moment decided to descend that river instead 
of proceeding west. I took observations for latitude and 
longitude at Porto Castanho, as well as boiling-point 
observations with the hypso-metrical apparatus, the latter 
in order to get the exact elevation, and also to keep a check 
on my several aneroids, which I used on the journey 
merely for differential observations. 
May 9, 1910. Boiling point, 210° 3' Fahrenheit. 
Temperature of the air, 83° Fahrenheit = 1,182 feet 
above the sea level. By aneroid, 1,190 feet. 
My mules having had a good rest, I was making ready 
to start on May twelfth, when one of my men refused to 
come any farther. He wished to be paid off and go. So 
he received his pay and went. He would probably end his 
existence in that filthy little hamlet, for he would never 
have the energy to return to Goyaz alone. I was rather 
glad he had gone, as, a few nights previously, he had fired 
at me while I was asleep. The bullet had actually made 
a hole through the canvas of my camp bed. I had 
fortunately taken the precaution to alter the position of 
my bed under my tent — a precaution I took every night, 
after my men had gone to sleep in their hammocks, some 
distance outside. The man had evidently aimed where 
he thought my head was resting. As I had turned the 
bed around, the bullet, fired from the man standing, went 
just over my ankles, perforating the canvas quite close to 
them. I naturally came out of my tent to see what was 
the matter, and saw the man with the rifle in his hand. 
148 
