Across Unknown South America Part 66

(Paradise), the name of that place. It was not exactly my idea of Heaven.

Our first meals were worse than no meals at all. We felt in such a plight that we lay helpless upon the floor of the hut, quite unable to move, so exhausted were we. In turning my head around I discovered ten large demijohns, some 2 ft. high and about 2 ft. in diameter, of thick green gla.s.s. They were the usual demijohns--_garaffons_, as they are called--used all over Brazil for "fire-water." I at once conceived the idea of using them as floats in the construction of a raft.

My men grinned contemptuously at the idea when I mentioned it to them.

They said that all was over. It was no use trying to get away. The Almighty wanted us to die, and we must only lie there and await our end, which was not far off. Benedicto struggled to his knees and prayed to the Almighty and the Virgin, sobbing bitterly all the time.

I struggled up on my feet and proceeded to carry the big vessels to the river bank, where I intended to construct the raft. The effort to take each heavy bottle those few metres seemed almost beyond me in my exhausted state. At last I proceeded to strip the floor of the hut, which had been made with split _a.s.sahy_ palms (_Euterpe oleracea_ L.), in order that I might make a frame to which I could fasten the bottles. With a great deal of persuasion I got Filippe and Benedicto to help me. The long pieces of _a.s.sahy_ were too heavy for our purpose, and we had the additional trouble of splitting each piece into four. It was most trying work in our worn-out condition. Then we had to go into the forest and collect some small liane, so that we could tie the pieces together, as we had no nails and no rope.

On September 20th, again without food--for we had eaten up all the fruit the previous day--we worked from morning till night in building the raft.

Unfortunately, Benedicto stumbled against one of the bottles, which was on the edge of the river; it rolled down the steep bank and floated quickly down stream, and we saw it disappear, unable to go and recover it. So only nine bottles were left.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Raft constructed by the Author in order to navigate the Canuma River with his Two Companions of Starvation.]

I made the raft of a triangular shape, with two parallel diagonal rows of three bottles each at a distance of 3 ft. apart; then one set of two bottles. One single _garaffon_ formed the bow of the raft. Naturally I stopped up the necks of the bottles, so that no water should get inside.

While I was constructing the raft I was all the time wondering whether it would have a sufficient floating capacity to carry us three men and our baggage.

When the raft was finished we placed two parallel pieces of _a.s.sahy_ from one end to the other, on which we could sit astride, with our legs dangling in the water.

The la.s.situde with which we did our work and tore down part of the hut in order to build that raft, our only way of salvation, was too pitiful to watch. We absolutely had no strength at all. When we pulled the liane to fasten together the different pieces of palm wood we were more exhausted than if we had lifted a weight of 200 lb. As it was, we could not fasten the pieces of wood properly, and when the raft was finished it was indeed a shaky affair.

By sunset on September 20th the raft--strengthened by sundry knots all over--was ready to be launched. I was more proud of her than if I had built a Dreadnought. There we all sat by the side of her, my men looking at her in a sceptical way, saying that it was just as well, perhaps, to try and die drowned instead of dying of starvation.

We took a last glance around to see if we could discover some other fruit or something to eat, but we found nothing. We postponed the launching of our vessel--which I named the _Victory_--until the next morning, as had she perchance had an accident that night--accidents at night seem so much worse than in the daytime--it would have been too severe a blow for us, from which we never could have recovered.

My feet were in such a terrible condition--so full of thorns, so swollen with numberless _jiggers_ which had bored channels under my nails and under the soles--that I really felt I could not walk another step. If that raft did not float I knew that we were lost for good.

The entire night I could not sleep, speculating on whether the raft would float or not. As far as I could judge, she seemed to me to have just capacity enough to keep afloat with all of us on board.

CHAPTER XXI

The Launching of the Gla.s.s Raft--Accidents--The Raft sinking--Saved--Our First Solid Meal--Its Consequences--The Canuma and Secundury Rivers--Marching Back across the Forest to the Relief of the Men left behind--A Strange Mishap--A Curious Case of Telepathy

ON September 21st my men had a great discussion. Their courage failed altogether, as they said they had never before seen a boat of that kind, made of gla.s.s bottles, and that, even allowing that she would float at all, if we struck a rock where should we be? They declared that, tired as they were, they preferred to go on struggling on foot through the forest rather than get drowned. With his peculiar reasoning, Benedicto said that it was bad enough to die of starvation, but to die of starvation and get drowned as well was too much for him!

It was decided that we should first of all try whether the raft would bear our weight or not. If she did, we would sail in her. If she did not, I would navigate her and they might go on foot.

It was a moment of great excitement and suspense when we launched the _Victory_. You should have seen the faces of Benedicto and Filippe when she floated on the water as gracefully as a duck. I got on her, and with a punting pole went half-way across the river and back again.

Filippe and Benedicto, who had hardly recovered from their astonishment, professed that it was the cleverest thing they had ever seen, and no Brazilian ever would have had such a brilliant idea. They were now anxious to get on board.

First Filippe came and sat himself in front of me, and I saw with some concern the raft sink down considerably into the water. When Benedicto also entered, the framework of our vessel absolutely disappeared under water and only the short necks of the bottles showed above the surface.

As we sat astride on the narrow longitudinal platform we were knee-deep in water. We took another small trip in mid-stream, and then decided that we would put the baggage on board and start at once on our journey down the river.

I went back for the baggage and rolled it all up in the waterproof hammock, then fastened it with pieces of liane to the stern of the raft.

Filippe and Benedicto fastened their own things also. Having made ourselves some primitive-looking paddles with the bottom of a small empty barrel we had found, which we attached to two sticks, we made ready to start.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Canoe made of the Bark of the Burity Palm.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Indians of the Madeira River.]

Filippe and I had already got on board, when Benedicto appeared with a huge punting pole he had cut himself in case we might need it. He was excited over the prospect of having no more walking to do. When he got near he jumped on board so clumsily that the already too heavily laden raft turned over and we were all flung into the water--there 7 ft. deep.

When I came to the surface again I just managed to pull the craft ash.o.r.e and then proceeded to save Benedicto and Filippe, who were struggling in the water, which was too deep for them.

This mishap was unfortunate. My chronometer got full of water and stopped; the aneroids, the camera, all were injured beyond repair. Much to my distress, I also discovered that the watertight cases, which had been knocked about so much of late, had let the water through before I had time to turn the raft the right way up and pull out of the water the baggage which was fastened to it. The four hundred developed negatives had all got soaked. My note-books, too, were drenched through.

Another heavy task was before me now, in order to save all that valuable material. It was to spread everything to dry thoroughly in the wind before it could be packed again.

Filippe and Benedicto were so scared that on no account, they said, would they go on board that raft again. The accident occurred at about nine o'clock in the morning; by one or two o'clock in the afternoon everything was dry and carefully repacked.

We decided to make a fresh start. My feet were so swollen, and with hardly a patch of skin left on them, that I could walk no more. It was agreed that Filippe and Benedicto should go on walking along the left bank as much as possible, while I alone, with the baggage, navigated the river. We would keep in touch by occasional shouts.

I got along pretty well, floating down with the current; but paddling and punting were most difficult, the raft being almost impossible to steer.

On several occasions I had narrow escapes, just avoiding striking dangerous rocks--particularly going down a small _corrideira_.

After I had gone about two kilometres I was so exhausted that I called to Filippe to come on board again. Eventually--and I must say that I admired his courage--he came on board, and the two of us proceeded quite well down the stream, one paddling, the other punting.

We got into a small rapid, where the current was strong. We were unfortunately thrown violently against some rocks, the central bottles of our raft receiving a hard knock. One of them cracked badly. I was quite perplexed when my eye caught sight of the radiations in the gla.s.s caused by the impact. Then my ear began to notice the sound of the trickling of water getting inside the bottle. With positive concern, as the _garaffon_ was gradually filling, I saw the raft getting a bad list to port.

The broken _garaffon_ was behind Filippe's back, and he could not see it.

He was constantly asking me whether something had gone wrong, as he seemed to feel the water getting higher and higher up his body.

"Is the s.h.i.+p not sinking?" he asked every two minutes. "I now have water up to my waist."

"No, no, Filippe! Go on. It is all right!" were the words with which I kept on urging him.

The cracked bottle had got almost entirely filled with water, and we had such a bad list that the steering became most difficult. Two or three times again we were thrown by the current against other rocks, and another bottle had a similar fate.

"We are sinking, are we not?" shouted Filippe.

"No, no!" said I. "Go on!"

As I said those words it suddenly seemed to me that I heard voices in the distance. Was it Benedicto calling to us? Filippe and I listened. Surely there was somebody singing! We fancied we heard several voices. Had Benedicto met somebody in the forest?

"Benedicto! Benedicto!" we shouted out to him. "Have you found men?"

"No!" came the answer from Benedicto.

All of a sudden Filippe, whose eyes had been scanning the river in front of him, gave a violent jerk which nearly capsized the raft, exclaiming:

"Look! look! There is a canoe!"

"It is a rock," said I, as I screened my eye to look on the dazzling water, upon which the sun glittered so that it was almost impossible to perceive anything. But, sure enough, as I strained my eyes a second time, I saw something move, and a moment later I heard voices quite distinctly.

Filippe's joy and mine was intense when we perceived that not only one boat, but two--three canoes were approaching.