canoes. The men at once rushed into them, and
advanced all round us. We refrained a long
time, but finally, as they began to get brave by
our quiescence, and to launch their wooden
spears, which they proceeded to do unanimously
as soon as somebody cried out “Mutti”— sticks
— we were obliged to reply to them with a
few shots, which compelled them to scamper
away ahead of us. Drums then awakened the
whole country, and horns blew deafening blasts.
Some canoes pertinaciously followed us. We
came, about 10 A .M . , to another market-green.
Here, too, warriors were ready, and again the
little canoes, like wasps, hovered round us, and
again we had recourse to our weapons. The
little canoes with loud threats disappeared quickly
down river: the land warriors rushed away into
the woods. We did not wish to hurry, because
the faster we proceeded the quicker we found
we were involved in trouble. We therefore
loitered languidly: rest was so rare that it became
precious when we obtained it.
At noon I observed the sun, and found we
were in north latitude oa 50 1 y/r, Wrc resumed
our journey, rowing at a steady though not a
fast pace. We had descended the river for about
an hour when we came again in sight of those
waspish little canoes, and from the left bank,
3000 yards off, canoes were seen heading across
the river at a terrific pace, while horns blew
and drums beat. We heard shouts of defiance,
or threats, we knew not which— we had become
indifferent to the incessant noise and continued
fury.
In these wild regions our mere presence excited
the most furious passions of hate and
murder, just as in shallow waters a deep vessel
stirs up muddy sediments. It appeared to be a
necessity, then why should we regret it? Could
a man contend with the inevitable?
At 2 P.M., heralded by savage shouts from the
wasp swarm, which from some cause or other
are unusually exultant, we emerge out of the
shelter of the deeply wooded banks in presence
of a vast affluent, nearly 2000 yards across at
the mouth. As soon as we have fairly entered
its waters, we see a great concourse of canoes
hovering about some islets, which stud the
middle of the stream. The canoe-men, standing
up, give a loud shout as they discern us, and
blow their horns louder than ever. We pull
briskly on to gain the right bank, and come in
view of the right branch of the affluent, when,
looking up stream, we see a sight that sends
the blood tingling through every nerve and
fibre of the body, arouses not only our most
lively interest, but also our most lively apprehensions—
a flotilla of gigantic canoes bearing down
upon us, which both in size and numbers utterly
eclipse anything encountered hitherto! Instead