ILLUSTRATIONS

A Little Village Built on Poles
The Javary River
The Mouth of the Itecoahy River
Nazareth
Trader’s Store
Remate de Males or “Culmination of Evils”
The Street in Remate de Males
General View of Remate de Males
Sunset on the Itecoahy River
An Ant Nest in a Tree
The Launch “Carolina”
The Banks of the Itecoahy
The Mouth of the Ituhy River
The Toucan
The Banks of the Itecoahy River
Clearing the Jungle
Urubus
“Nova Aurora”
“Defumador” or Smoking Hut
Matamata Tree
The Urucu Plant
The Author in the Jungle
The Mouth of the Branco
Branding Rubber on the Sand-Bar
The Landing at Floresta
The Banks at Floresta
A General View of Floresta
Morning
Coronel Rosendo da Silva
Chief Marques
Interior of A Rubber-Worker’s Hut
Joao
The Murumuru Palm
A “Seringueiro” Tapping a Rubber Tree
Smoking the Rubber-Milk
Forest Interior
A Fig-Tree Completely Overgrown with Orchids
Chico, The Monkey
Turtle Eggs on the Sand-Bank
The Pirarucu
The Last Resting-Place of the Rubber-Workers
“Seringueiros”
Joao
Floresta Creek
Lake Innocence
Alligator from Lake Innocence
Another Alligator from Lake Innocence
Rubber-Workers’ Home near Lake Innocence
Harpooning a Large Sting-Ray
Shooting Fish on Lake Innocence
The Pirarucu
Amazonian Game-Fish
The Track of the Anaconda—­The Sucuruju
The Paca
Rubber-Worker Perreira and Wife in their Sunday Clothes
A “New Home” Sewing-Machine in an Indian Hut
The Remarkable Pachiuba Palm-Tree
Kitchen Interior
The Beginning of the Fatal Expedition
A Halt in the Forest
Jungle Scenery
Forest Creek
Top of Hill
Page Marsh-Deer and Mutum-Bird
Jungle Darkness
Creek in the Unknown
Eating our Broiled Monkey at Tambo No. 5
Hunting
The Fatal Tambo No. 9
A Photograph of the Author
The Front View of Tambo No. 9
Caoutchouc Process No. 1
Caoutchouc Process No. 2
Caoutchouc Process No. 3
Creek Near Tambo No. 9
The Author’s Working Table at Tambo No. 9
Forest Scenery Near Tambo No. 9
Our Parting Breakfast
Mangeroma Vase 399

CHAPTER I

Remate de Males, or “Culmination of evils”

My eyes rested long upon the graceful white-painted hull of the R.M.S. Manco as she disappeared behind a bend of the Amazon River, more than 2200 miles from the Atlantic Ocean.  After 47 days of continuous travel aboard of her, I was at last standing on the Brazilian frontier, watching the steamer’s plume of smoke still hanging lazily over the immense, brooding forests.  More than a plume of smoke it was to me then; it was the final link that bound me to the outside world of civilisation.  At last it disappeared.  I turned and waded through the mud up to a small wooden hut built on poles.