This evening we made camp on a flat of dry ground, densely wooded, of course, directly on the edge of the river and five feet above it.  It was fine to see the speed and sinewy ease with which the choppers cleared an open space for the tents.  Next morning, when we bathed before sunrise, we dived into deep water right from the shore, and from the moored canoes.  This second day we made sixteen and a half kilometres along the course of the river, and nine kilometres in a straight line almost due north.

The following day, March 1, there was much rain—­sometimes showers, sometimes vertical sheets of water.  Our course was somewhat west of north and we made twenty and a half kilometres.  We passed signs of Indian habitation.  There were abandoned palm-leaf shelters on both banks.  On the left bank we came to two or three old Indian fields, grown up with coarse fern and studded with the burned skeletons of trees.  At the mouth of a brook which entered from the right some sticks stood in the water, marking the site of an old fish-trap.  At one point we found the tough vine hand-rail of an Indian bridge running right across the river, a couple of feet above it.  Evidently the bridge had been built at low water.  Three stout poles had been driven into the stream-bed in a line at right angles to the current.  The bridge had consisted of poles fastened to these supports, leading between them and from the support at each end to the banks.  The rope of tough vines had been stretched as a hand-rail, necessary with such precarious footing.  The rise of the river had swept away the bridge, but the props and the rope hand-rail remained.  In the afternoon, from the boat, Cherrie shot a large dark-gray monkey with a prehensile tail.  It was very good eating.

We camped on a dry level space, but a few feet above, and close beside, the river—­so that our swimming-bath was handy.  The trees were cleared and camp was made with orderly hurry.  One of the men almost stepped on a poisonous coral-snake, which would have been a serious thing, as his feet were bare.  But I had on stout shoes, and the fangs of these serpents—­unlike those of the pit-vipers—­are too short to penetrate good leather.  I promptly put my foot on him, and he bit my shoe with harmless venom.  It has been said that the brilliant hues of the coral-snake when in its native haunts really confer on it a concealing coloration.  In the dark and tangled woods, and to an only less extent in the ordinary varied landscape, anything motionless, especially if partially hidden, easily eludes the eye.  But against the dark-brown mould of the forest floor on which we found this coral-snake its bright and varied coloration was distinctly revealing; infinitely more so than the duller mottling of the jararaca and other dangerous snakes of the genus lachecis.  In the same place, however, we found a striking example of genuine protective or mimetic coloration and shape.  A rather large insect larva—­at least we judged it to be a larval form, but we were none of us entomologists—­bore a resemblance to a partially curled dry leaf which was fairly startling.  The tail exactly resembled the stem or continuation of the midrib of the dead leaf.  The flattened body was curled up at the sides, and veined and colored precisely like the leaf.  The head, colored like the leaf, projected in front.