ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
involved getting off my mule many times a day. When¬ 
ever I put my feet on the ground or touched a blade of 
grass, I well knew what was in store for me. At once 
I became literally covered with carrapatinhosj and had 
to scratch myself so violently that nothing short of digging 
my nails into my skin seemed to relieve the irritation — 
and that, mind you, only momentarily. One had to bear 
it, and wait until one got to camp in the evening before 
one could disinfect oneself all over. In this world one 
never gets much credit for anything, but I do think that 
few men under those circumstances would have gone on, 
as I did, collecting botanical specimens for no reward 
whatever except my own pleasure, if pleasure it can 
be called. 
Again we noticed that day wonderful effects of clouds 
in filaments, one group stretching along the sky in an arc 
from north to east like the dorsal bone and ribs of an 
immense fish. 
We camped on the bank of a stream (elevation 1,050 
feet) flowing northeast, which was, I think, the same 
stream we had met in the morning, and which had 
described a big turn. 
My men amused me with their fears. Even when in 
camp they never left their rifles for a moment. When 
they went only a few yards away, either to fetch water or 
bring back a mule, they invariably took all their weapons 
with them — carbines, automatic pistols, and daggers. 
In order to collect specimens and examine the country, 
I frequently strayed away alone for long distances from 
camp, sometimes for two or three hours at a time, always 
absolutely unarmed. My men began to be thoroughly 
frightened at the immunity I possessed from attacks of 
wild beasts and Indians. Although I told them that wild 
beasts never attacked human beings unless attacked first, 
and that there were no Indians about, my men would not 
believe me. They maintained that I must have some 
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