ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
quitoes of all sizes and of all degrees of viciousness rose 
in swarms from the swamp at sunset, and made our life 
absolutely miserable. To counterbalance the torture we 
had a wonderful sunset to look at. First, the sky, of a 
golden colour, was intersected by graceful curves dividing 
it into sections like a melon; then it gradually became 
overladen with horizontal black and crimson lines to the 
west, black to the east and overhead. 
June the second was my birthday. I am superstitious 
by nature, and I would have given anything to celebrate 
it with some lucky event, although I was at a loss to think 
of anything lucky that could have happened to me there. 
Indeed, I began my new year badly, much worse even 
than I expected. That was an ill-omen to me. First of 
all there was a terrible row among my men in camp. 
They had taken to their rifles. They wanted to shoot the 
cook. The man deserved punishment, perhaps, but not 
quite so severe a one. After a great deal of arguing, I 
quieted them and got them to lay down their weapons. 
The cook’s life was spared — worse luck for me. I was 
sorry for it when I had my breakfast, for cooking more 
diabolical than his could not be imagined. During break¬ 
fast the news came that another horse of my caravan had 
been lost. So there was the prospect of another day 
wasted to recover it. My men were unable to trace it, so 
I resigned myself to the monetary loss and also to the 
inconvenience its absence would cause us. 
My men felt the cold intensely during the night, the 
thermometer being as low as 51° Fahrenheit (minimum). 
During the day the maximum temperature was 85° 
Fahrenheit and 96° in the sun. 
My only consolation that day was watching the 
innumerable birds and gazing at the magnificent sunset. 
The latter consisted that evening of three lines forming 
arches — two black to the west and the third white — 
stretching across the sky from north to south. From the 
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