LIFE ON THE LAUNCH. 
141 
butler in one, shouting chaff to Pedroso. 
The mists had rolled away, and the 
individual feathery trees of the mont6 had 
materialised from a vague wash of foliage : 
there was the sudden plop of 
a rising fish in the dark pool 
at the mouth of a small tribu¬ 
tary, the sun was sparkling 
on the river, bringing out 
gleams of gold here and there, 
and the three intent figures in 
the small canoe made their 
slow way 
against the 
fierce strength 
of the current. 
They were 
gone. Jerman, 
__ still twiddling 
his moustache 
and gazing at the retreating canoe, was 
galvanised to fresh activities by our shouts for 
hot water, and for the next quarter of an hour 
he shambled backwards and forwards with the 
docility of an elephant, bringing kettlefuls of 
hot water to the door of the tiny washing place : 
so tiny a place that it was fortunate none of us 
was very fat. As soon as we were dressed he 
was wanted again, this time to carry up the 
heaps of bedding to the roof of the launch, 
where they baked all day in the sun. Then he 
