cruelly thirsty,
especially my men in their feverish state. It was curious to see them all
clinging to the tree with their mouths applied to the wounds in order to
suck the milk.

[Illustration: Mundurucu Women.]

[Illustration: Apiacar Children.]

Some way farther on we came across some rubber trees--which fact made
us joyful, as we knew water would then be near. In fact, a kilometre
beyond, water of a deep reddish yellow colour was found in a streamlet 10
m. wide, flowing north.

We halted on the western bank. We had been cutting through the forest the
entire day. My men were simply exhausted. I, too, was glad when I put
down the bird and the monkey--particularly as they had a pungent odour,
quite typical of wild animals of Brazil, which affected my nose for some
hours afterwards. Also they were covered with parasites, which caused
violent itching on my neck and shoulders, on which they had been resting.

I had marched all the time, compass in hand, next to the man who with the
large knife opened the way through the forest. We had travelled all
day--cutting, cutting all the time--and by the evening we had gone about
10 kil.--that is to say, at the rate of a little over 1 kil. an hour.

The yellow water of the stream--it looked just like strong tea, and
tasted of everything in the world except water--had not a beneficial
effect upon my men. For some reason of their own the men, who seldom took
a bath in the clean rivers, insisted on bathing in those coloured waters,
which, I might also add, were just then almost stagnant in that
particular section of the stream.

Personally, I had taken out a large cup full of water before they had
gone to bathe, and avoided drinking again; but my men drank that water,
made dirtier by their immersion and the use of soap--my soap, too!

The next morning all had excruciating headaches. Their legs dangled, and
they did not seem to be able to stand on them. Only the
Indian--Miguel--seemed to have any strength left. He was a nasty-looking
individual, always sulky and pensive as if under some great weight upon
his conscience. Miguel and I walked in front, he with a big knife opening
the way in the forest for the others to come behind.

Just before leaving camp on September 1st I had gone some distance up the
yellow stream in order to get a last drink in case we found no other
water that day. The Indian, who was supposed to know the forest well,
knew nothing whatever, and always mis