LIFE ON THE LAUNCH. 
149 
cups of tea, with tinned milk that poured cheer¬ 
fully out of its pierced tin into everything but 
the destined cup. Then a looking out of tackle 
and writing of diaries, till it was nearly five 
o’clock and time to think of making a halt. 
‘What about that bank there? or that little 
corner ? ’ we asked, but the Capitan was 
inexorable. Steadily he kept the Lelia’s head 
up stream. ‘I know a good place just round 
the next bend,’ he said, ‘the anchorage there 
is safe.’ And a quarter of an hour later he 
swung the boat round, out of the turmoil of the 
river, and after a little manoeuvring brought 
her to, with her nose tied to the bank. The 
engines gave a convulsive snort or two, then 
stopped, and the quiet of the forest settled 
round us. The canoe was hastily got out for 
more fishing, and my sister and I either went 
with it to be landed further down, or wandered 
along the rocks with camera and sketch book. 
This was the time when the sandflies were at 
their worst, and we wore veils of close net that 
fitted round the crown of our hats and reached 
to our waist, leaving holes for the arms, and 
fastened down with an elastic belt. And even 
then the sandflies sometimes managed to get 
inside. Gauntlet gloves and long soft boots 
up to our knees were a great comfort. 
We started our trip up the river on October 
5th, and I believe it was a cooler season than 
most. We had taken dark linen skirts with us. 
