“WELL?”
It was Mr. Weslowe’s voice after the scientists and their sons had finished reading the contract.
Mr. Holton nodded.
“It’s all right,” he declared. “Contains nothing whatever that would be objectionable.”
Mr. Lewis agreed.
“We’ll leave the matter to the boys,” he said. “They’ll be the ones who will have charge of taking the pictures. And let me say that you can rely on them.”
“You haven’t said that we can go yet,” remarked Bob. “How about our mothers? Will they consent?”
“Yes,” Mr. Lewis answered. “They finally agreed. We were planning to make it a surprise later.”
“What!” cried Bob, while Joe gasped in astonishment.
“Fine!” blurted out Joe, after he had regained his breath. “We don’t know how to thank you enough. And I’ll be more than glad to accept this offer to take the movies. Bob will, too, I’m sure.”
“All right,” Mr. Weslowe said. “Here’s a pen. You men, as the ones in charge of the expedition, must sign here.”
They did as directed, and then the representatives prepared to depart.
“The film, machine, and other equipment will be here inside of a week,” Mr. Duncan said. “And you’ll find it as simple as we explained.”
Then they took their leave.
“A chance to make some money,” said Mr. Lewis to the youths, as they seated themselves on the porch awaiting the evening meal.
“Yes,” said Bob. “And I know we’ll find it interesting.”
“What kind of a camera do you suppose they’ll furnish?” Joe asked.
“Probably the small, simple kind that requires no tripod. All you do is press a button and the film is automatically exposed. But you’ll have to follow the instructions closely or the whole thing will be a total failure. And to a certain extent, Mr. Holton and I will be held responsible.”
Practically all of the next day was spent in the business district purchasing various articles to be used on the coming great adventure. In the evening when they returned home they were satisfied with everything they had bought. Bob and Joe were especially delighted with the new rifles that their fathers presented them, for they were of the very latest design.
“I suppose they’ll bring down anything,” said Bob, in reference to the guns.
“Anything but elephants, rhinos, and the like that have extremely tough hides,” his father answered. “You needn’t fear them, though, for we won’t come across them in South America.”
“What is considered the most dangerous game of that continent?” asked Joe.
“The jaguar, generally,” was the response. “He sometimes attains a length of nearly six feet and is extremely powerful. He has been known to attack a mustang, swim with it across a river, and place it in the thick bushes. Again he has been seen to open fish and heavy turtles with his powerful claws.”
“Poisonous snakes are also dangerous,” said Mr. Lewis, “although they seldom attack a man without first being disturbed.”
“There’s a remedy for every such bite, isn’t there?” inquired Joe.
“Yes. That is, for nearly every one. The strange part of it is that one antidote may be totally ineffective against one kind of poison, while it has effect on another. You see there are several types or classes of venomous reptiles, and each has a different type of poison. Hence several antidotes have to be carried so as to take no chances.”
“Anacondas are not poisonous, are they?” asked Joe.
“No,” replied Mr. Holton. “They are constrictors, that kill their victims by crushing them to death. Another name for them is ‘water boa,’ because they are found near a stream or mud hole. You boys probably know that they are among the world’s largest snakes, often being thirty feet in length and thicker than a man’s leg. They are capable of crushing an ox to death, and often tear up small trees by the roots.”
Joe shuddered.
“I don’t think I’d care to meet one of them,” he said. “Especially since I’m not an excellent shot like you and Dad.”
“And Bob,” added Mr. Lewis. Really Bob was not far behind the naturalists in marksmanship.
After the preparations for the trip were fully completed, the youths and their fathers rested, for the coming venture was to be a tiresome one, and it was wholly unwise to use too much of their energy that was to be so much needed later.
Meanwhile reconstruction work was being done on Mr. Lewis’s garage, and the workmen promised to have the task completed in three days.
“Won’t have to worry about that,” Bob assured his chum’s father. “You can just take it easy until the time comes to leave for Brazil.”
Mr. Lewis nodded but found out later, as did Mr. Holton, that to rest was impossible, much as they would have liked to. Frequent trips to the museum had to be made, visits to various libraries were necessary, and they found at last that a journey to Baltimore was inevitable. As might be expected, they were greatly fatigued when, although every matter was settled, only two days remained before the long mission into the unknown.
That afternoon Professor Bigelow, a noted anthropologist who was to be a part of the expedition, arrived at Mr. Holton’s home, where he was to remain until the expedition would leave. He was a rather small man, with heavy gray hair and a swarthy complexion that the boys rightly guessed was due to his many missions into strange lands to study primitive people. He at once took a great liking to the youths, and together they discussed many strange happenings, which the professor related in breath-taking tales. He told of adventures in darkest Africa, where many little-known clans of natives were studied. He thrilled his listeners with stories of narrow escapes from the Dyaks of Borneo, of journeys into Ecuador to investigate the savage head-shrinkers, into India, Mongolia, Venezuela, islands of the South Seas, and many other strange places. Yes, it was a great life—that pursued by an anthropologist.
“Two more things I’d like to know,” said Bob, the next afternoon. “First, what food will we take along?”
“That is all arranged,” his father replied. “A company in New York packed our provisions in light tin containers that are airtight and will float on water. You don’t need to worry about our having enough, for we took into consideration the possibility of a long, unexpected delay. What’s your other question?”
“This: Where do we sail from, New York? And on what ship?”
Mr. Holton gasped in astonishment.
“What!” he cried. “You don’t know that yet? I thought we discussed that matter several days ago.”
“If you did, I wasn’t there,” Bob returned, grinning. “We’ve been so busy with preparations that I haven’t given it a thought.”
“All right, I’ll tell you. We sail from New York on the steamer Empire, a vessel of ten thousand tons. It is scheduled to arrive in Macapá, which is several miles inland on the Amazon, in twelve days. Fairly good time, considering a stop at the West Indies.”
At frequent intervals Mrs. Holton and Mrs. Lewis expressed the desire for their sons to give up the thought of accompanying the expedition, but the boys did their best to convince their mothers that, while there were dangers attached, they were not as numerous as one might think.
“Come to think of it, you can’t blame them, though,” said Joe. “We’re rather inexperienced in the art of exploring.”
“We’ll come through all right,” Bob assured him. “Oh! How I wish the time would pass quicker!”
Despite Bob’s desire, the great day of leaving took its time in coming. But when it did arrive, everyone was in readiness.
“Weather’s cool and the sky’s clear,” observed Joe, as he and Bob lugged their belongings out to the front porch of Bob’s home, where the members of both households were to gather before the party would leave.
“Just the right temperature,” declared Mr. Holton, who had moved up in time to hear his son’s chum.
The train was to leave for New York at ten o’clock and the party barely had time to get breakfast and prepare themselves and their possessions, which, by the way, included the motion-picture cameras and several thousand feet of film, sent ahead by the Neuman Film Corporation.
Bob and Joe—and the others to a less degree—had studied the instructions on how to take motion pictures and felt that it would be an easy matter to carry them out.
Shortly after breakfast Mrs. Holton and Mrs. Lewis drove the family cars out in front, and the others carried out their belongings and got inside.
“The last we’ll see of good old Washington for several months to come,” sighed Joe, as he cast a final look at the homes they were leaving behind.
There were tears in the eyes of Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Holton as they gave the youths and their fathers a warm farewell. Professor Bigelow also took part in the leave-taking, for he was well liked by all. Bob’s smaller brother and Joe’s sister gave tender good-byes, and with one last adieu the adventurers made their way down the platform and to the New York Limited.
THE trip to New York, while interesting, was without incident, and they were glad to stretch their legs in the Pennsylvania Terminal, where hundreds of people from all parts of the country were assembled.
“Now what?” asked Joe, after a bountiful lunch.
“Better get to a hotel,” replied Mr. Holton, picking up his bags.
The party walked outside and hailed a taxi, the driver of which agreed to take them to a comfortable hotel near the waterfront.
“An outside room,” observed Bob, as he glanced at his ticket and followed the others to an elevator.
Their sleeping quarters were on the seventeenth floor, where a wonderful view of lower Manhattan and the waterfront could be had.
“Fairly high, but could be a lot higher,” observed Joe, as he gazed out at the scores of other tall buildings that were grouped about them.
“The trend is upward,” remarked Mr. Lewis. “Imagine how old New York will look fifty years from now, when there may be buildings two hundred stories high!”
“Suppose we go down and see how things look from the street,” suggested Mr. Holton. “Been a long time since we’ve been here.”
The remainder of that day was spent exploring Manhattan Island. They turned in early in the evening, for they were very tired.
“Tomorrow,” said Bob, as he threw himself on the bed, “we’ll see sights for sore eyes.”
And they did. The scene at the dock was one of absorbing interest to all, even as much as the men had witnessed it. Ships from all countries were anchored in dense rows, their crewmen busy loading and unloading cargoes. Boxes and bales were being piled in great stacks, awaiting transfer by motor truck. Passengers and spectators crowded closely around the sections where passenger liners were anchored.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Holton, pointing to a medium-sized ship between two other smaller boats. “The Empire. Looks staunch enough.”
The others agreed and then made their way up the gangplank. A white-clad officer came out to meet them and upon receipt of their tickets directed them to their staterooms.
“Large and comfortable,” commented Bob, as he set down his baggage and looked about.
“All you could ask for,” said Joe, who was to share the room with his chum.
The youths spent several more minutes in examining the articles furnished them for the voyage. Then Bob turned toward the door.
“Let’s go out on deck,” he suggested. “It won’t be long until the ship lifts anchor.”
On deck they found everything in readiness for the voyage, and the scene of action below was interesting to the extreme. Crewmen hurried back and forth with ropes, boxes, bales, and other objects, intent upon a purpose. Visitors scurried off the ship and stood by to witness the leaving.
“Everyone probably wishes he were going with us,” said Bob, as the crowd grudgingly stepped back for the gangplank to be pulled in.
The next instant the long-drawn, deep whistle of the boat sounded, and with the ringing of gongs the engines started. A streak of foam arose between the hull and the dock, and the ship started moving.
“Good-bye, America!” shouted Joe, leaning far out over the rail.
“Yes,” affirmed Mr. Holton. “It’s the last we’ll see of good old New York for many weeks to come.”
Mr. Holton, Mr. Lewis, and Professor Bigelow turned and walked to the other end of the deck. Bob and Joe remained where they were.
Neither of the youths said anything, for they were busy with their thoughts.
Who knew what perils might befall them before they would again see that land they so dearly loved?
BOB and Joe found the ocean voyage very interesting, for it was something new to them. The waves, sea gulls, flying fish, an occasional shark, the painted horizon, and the ship itself all held their undivided attention and made them thrill at the fact that they were living through an experience that only a comparative few had the opportunity of enjoying.
They spent much of their time on deck, enjoying the never-ending charm of the ocean. Thus far the weather had remained peaceable enough, and both boys expressed a desire for it to continue thus. They had never witnessed a hurricane, but had heard from their fathers of how destructive a tropical ocean storm could really be.
“The ship looks strong enough to come through safely,” remarked Joe, as he cast eyes about the deck.
“Yes,” his friend replied. “She’s built on the stoutest possible lines.”
Section by section the youths explored the Empire and were much impressed by everything they saw. They visited the various passenger quarters, the bridge, the enormous kitchens, the hold, and last and most interesting, the engine rooms, where mammoth turbines turned harmoniously and kept the ship at a smooth, even gait. The vessel interested them greatly, and while not built on the enormous proportions of the huge liners that sailed between American and European ports, it was large enough to keep the youths wondering.
“One of the many man-made wonders,” said Bob, as he thought of how complex the engines were.
One of the things that impressed the boys most was the large supply of provisions that were taken along. There were literally tons of food, water, novelties, and other goods stored in great rooms, and every bit was to be used on this one voyage. Artificial refrigeration kept perishable food fresh and wholesome.
Early the next day Bob and Joe showed their first signs of seasickness. They had been standing at the rail watching the rolling of the waves and were growing rather tired when Joe turned about, his face pale and of a yellowish color.
“I think I’ll go to my berth,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“What’s the matter? You——”
“It came at last,” smiled Mr. Lewis, who had moved up to the youths. “I seldom knew it to fail. Seasickness is almost sure to be felt on the first voyage one takes. Bob, I’m betting that before two hours will have passed you’ll be as bad off as Joe. Of course,” he went on in a tone that he tried to keep serious, “let’s hope you’ll have better luck, but the chances are against you.”
Mr. Lewis’s prophecy proved correct. In fact it was less than one hour later that big Bob, after heroically postponing the dreaded seasickness as long as he possibly could, turned and went to his berth to join his stricken comrade.
“Too bad,” remarked Mr. Holton, closing the door of the stateroom after cautiously peeping in. “Perhaps their next voyage—if they take any more—will be free from unpleasantness.”
Throughout the remainder of that day the boys’ condition remained unchanged. If anything, they were worse off than before, and neither would look at a bite of food of any kind.
“This is terrible,” moaned Joe to his father, the professor, and Mr. Holton, who went in to see how the youths were.
“Cheer up,” Mr. Holton said in lively tones. “You can surely stand a couple of more days.”
He was right. It was two days later when the boys began to show signs of recovery. Then only very slowly did they resume their natural cheerfulness.
“Too bad we had to miss so much,” mourned Bob. “But I’ll admit there wasn’t much to see.”
“Nothing but water,” said Joe and then turned to go into the cabin. As he did so he happened to glance down at the stern and pointed for Bob to follow his gaze.
Leaning against the rail were the boys’ fathers conversing with an elderly bearded man, with a uniform that distinguished him as the ship’s captain. He seemed good-natured and humorous, for occasionally he would cause the men to laugh so hard that they would have to grip the rail to maintain their balance.
“Come over, boys,” Mr. Holton said, glancing up.
They did so.
“This,” he continued, “is Captain Crowell, chief officer of the Empire. Captain, this is Joe Lewis, and this, Bob Holton, the young men we were telling you about. What do you think of them?”
The old officer spent nearly a minute in looking the boys over. Then he turned to the naturalists.
“Spirited-looking chaps,” he grinned. “Look as if they’d like to deprive Brazil of every bit of animal life in it. Better not let them have a rifle. The jaguars will all make for cover.”
“Roasting us, are you?” retorted Bob.
“No. What creature, no matter how fierce, wouldn’t be afraid of two mates who captured a gang of desperate criminals all by themselves? You don’t need to worry about these fellows,” he said to their fathers. “They’ll take care of themselves and you, too, perhaps.”
Bob and Joe took a liking to the old seaman and intended to discuss many problems with him in the future.
“Maybe he can suggest something to do to while the time away,” said Bob the next day, when Captain Crowell was again referred to.
“That reminds me,” the other youth blurted out. “There’s a swimming pool in the second deck. Let’s go up.”
Bob readily agreed, and they were soon floating calmly about.
“We’d better get as much out of this as we can,” remarked Joe. “There won’t be a chance to enjoy this sport in Brazilian waters.”
“No,” put in Bob. “The alligators and piranhas and other dangerous forms won’t give us a chance to even wade.”
The youths were not the only ones to invade the swimming pool, however. As they neared the tropics, and the temperature steadily went up, people from all over the ship enjoyed its cool retreat, the pool becoming almost crowded. It was great fun. Nothing to do but just splash about.
Games also held the boys’ attention. Shuffleboard, quoits, deck tennis, horseshoes, and other activities played an important part in the daily life, and in times when they desired more quiet entertainment, the library, with its scores of books of all types, afforded interesting occupation.
Many leisure hours were spent conversing with Captain Crowell, who always had a humorous tale to tell. On one occasion, when they had been at sea nearly a week, Bob and Joe happened upon him standing at the rail, gazing up at the sky, on his face a worried expression.
“Big storm coming,” he said, after the salutation.
“A storm!” cried Joe and then looked upward.
Sure enough, clouds were banking heavily, and the sun was nowhere in sight. A stiff breeze had arisen, and with this came the smell of rain.
An officer came up and handed a slip of paper to the captain. He read it, and then, with a parting word for Bob and Joe, he turned and went toward the bridge.
The boys looked at each other. Were things going to turn out for the worse? Surely something serious was wrong, or the captain would never have acted in such manner.
“Getting darker,” Bob said, as he noted that the clouds were joining.
“Won’t be long before it’ll rain,” prophesied Joe, and he was correct, for it was less than ten minutes later that a heavy drizzle fell, forcing the chums into the cabin.
There they turned and looked out at the sea, which was rapidly getting higher. The wind was blowing fiercely, its velocity increasing with each minute.
“Well, boys, what do you think of it?”
It was Mr. Holton’s voice. He and his two companions had moved up to the glass, as had a number of other people.
“Suppose you answer that question,” replied Bob. “You’re in a better position to know than we are.”
“I believe we’re in for a bad one,” was the opinion voiced by Professor Bigelow. “But how long it will last is hard to say.”
Mr. Lewis nodded. “Tropical hurricanes are very uncertain,” he said. “Sometimes they last only a few hours, while at other times they keep up for two and three days.”
The boat was now rocking violently, and many people had difficulty in keeping their footing. Bob and Joe took chairs that were fastened securely to the floor. They intended to remain awake all night if the storm did not subside.
But exhaustion was stronger than their intentions, and finally they stumbled to their stateroom, ready for a night’s rest.
“Storm or no storm, I’m going to turn in,” Bob said, and then lost his footing and went sprawling to the floor, with Joe on top of him. The ship had suddenly tilted as she struck a mountainous wave.
“Wow!” cried Joe, gripping a water pipe and righting himself. “Better hold tight from now on or we’re likely to get a bad spill.”
By almost a miracle the youths undressed. Then they tumbled into their berths, to go to sleep at once.
About midnight they were awakened by a shrill, long-drawn whistle, and all the sleep knocked out of them, they were on their feet in an instant wondering what was meant by that unusual sound in the dark of the night.
“WHAT is it?” asked Joe, as he hurriedly slipped on his clothing.
“Beyond me,” Bob answered. “Come on. Let’s go out on deck. We may be able to find out.”
The ship was rocking terribly, and the boys found it difficult to keep their footing. But they finally managed to catch hold of a rail, and from then on it was easier.
Several other passengers were up also, intent upon investigating the strange whistle.
“Maybe the boat’s sinking,” suggested Joe.
Bob shook his head.
“Probably isn’t that. At least let’s hope not.”
With beating hearts the youths came up to the glass and turned to look out at the angry sea. Then their expression changed.
A short distance from the Empire was a small fishing schooner, its prow out of sight in the water. On the stern stood a score or more men, waving their arms frantically. It was evident that they were panic-stricken, for several of them occasionally shouted for help. The little boat tossed about violently on the crest of the mountainous waves, her front deck gradually fading from view. Every minute it seemed that the end would come.
“It’s sinking fast!” cried Joe. “Why don’t some of our crew do something?”
“They are. Look.”
Farther up on the Empire’s deck fifteen or twenty men, under the direction of officers, were busy lowering lifeboats, although it looked out of reason to let them down on that sea.
Suddenly Bob turned and started toward his berth.
“Where you going?” Joe asked.
“To get the motion-picture camera. Here’ll be a good chance to take some pictures. There’s plenty of light around here.”
The next moment he was gone, and Joe turned to the deck.
The roar of the storm was deafening, and the wind howled ruefully through the funnels and masts. It was as though the end of the world were coming.
In less than five minutes two lifeboats were lowered, four or five men in each one. Then slowly they made their way toward the doomed schooner.
Bob now returned with the movie camera and cranked away, delighted to get an opportunity to film such an unusual happening.
The boys, however, were not the only ones to watch the daring attempt at rescue. In fact the glass was now crowded with people, and Mr. Holton, Mr. Lewis, and Professor Bigelow came up and wormed their way to their companions.
“Most thrilling thing I ever saw!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, as he breathlessly directed his gaze at the puny boats, which wallowed heavily and threatened to be swamped at every moment.
On and on went the rescue boats, their occupants bailing furiously. Now and then they threatened to capsize but always righted themselves.
In what seemed to be a long period of suspense to the spectators, the Empire’s crew reached the fishing schooner, which was now far under water.
One by one the fishermen climbed into the lifeboats, although it was necessary to give sharp commands to prevent disorder.
When the last of the men from the doomed boat stepped into the lifeboats, the officer in charge gave the word, and they started back to the Empire.
The return trip threatened to be more perilous, for the boats were very low in the water with the added load. Hurriedly the oarsmen set to work, so that they might be a good distance from the schooner when it sank, for a whirlpool would be created, meaning certain disaster to all around it.
Once a giant wave passed over the little boats and they disappeared from view, amid gasps from the spectators. But the danger was soon over, and the lifeboats emerged unharmed, the crewmen bailing rapidly.
They were barely at the Empire’s side when the schooner sank. With a last look at the scene of disaster, the fishermen boarded the ship. They were water-soaked and shivering with cold, but were too glad that they had been saved from the hungry depths of the sea to make any complaints.
“They’re Portuguese,” observed Professor Bigelow, as the fishermen came nearer.
The men muttered several words of thanks to the Empire’s crew, but it was clear that few understood them. Professor Bigelow, however, picked up the meaning at once and translated to his companions. Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis had a slight knowledge of that language, but could not keep up with the excited men.
“The captain says it’s too bad they had to lose the schooner,” Professor Bigelow said. “He said they did their best to save it from going down, but had to give up. They did not intend to be this far at sea, but the storm gave them no chance of turning back.”
In a short time the excitement was over, and most of the passengers again retired, for the next morning they were to sight the West Indies.
Bob was overjoyed at the success he had had in taking the movies of the rescue and knew they would be a hit with the Neuman Film Corporation. They were the first of any importance that had been taken on the ship, and, as Joe said, a little action now and then does a lot to liven up a thing.
The next morning the storm had completely subsided, and true to schedule the Empire sighted Porto Rico. There was a scramble of passengers who had reached their destination.
“Probably think they’ll be carried on,” smiled Bob, as a rather nervous man fled down the stairs.
At first the shoreline was so dim as to be hardly distinguishable from the low clouds, but it gradually grew more plain. At last trees and houses could be made out, and then the skyline of San Juan loomed up in the distance.
“Looks like a city,” remarked Joe.
“It is,” his father replied. “Has over eighty-five thousand inhabitants.”
“Will we have time to go ashore?” asked Bob.
“Yes. The ship remains in port for about three hours,” Mr. Holton answered.
As the Empire approached the city, she backed her engines and moved slowly into port, where a small crowd of people were massed to give greeting.
Several other boats, large and small, were anchored at the busy docks, and the Empire steamed in between two freighters, one of which was being loaded with sugar.
“Sugar is one of the principal exports,” explained Professor Bigelow, as the exploration party prepared to leave the ship on a tour of the city.
As soon as they were in port, the gangplank was lowered. The adventurers made their way down, among a score of other passengers, many of whom were to leave the ship here.
Bob and Joe were at once impressed by the native residents, for there was a great variety of races. Spaniards were the most numerous, but there were also Negroes, mulattoes, French, Americans, and a small sprinkling of Indians.
“Quite a variety,” commented Joe. “Though it is possible to see this very thing in parts of New York.”
The explorers found that it would be comparatively easy to walk to various places of interest, and, after passing the former governor-general’s palace, they resolved to take in as much of the city as they could in two hours.
They found that the city was built on Morro Island, although the mainland could be easily reached by the numerous bridges. The streets were regularly laid out, and in the white quarters the residences were rather attractive.
“Doesn’t look much like America, though,” said Joe.
The exploration party reached the Empire with thirty minutes to spare, and they took chairs on deck to watch the busy dock below.
All too soon the whistle of leaving blew, and visitors scrambled down the gangplank. Then, with one long blast the ship slowly steamed out to sea, leaving Porto Rico behind.
At last they were on the final stretch. There would be no more stops till they reached South America. Then only short stays at Paramaribo and Cayenne, which were important seaport cities about two hundred miles apart.
“How long will it be until we again see land?” asked Bob, as he and the others sat on deck.
“Two days,” replied his father. “No doubt that they’ll seem like a long time, too.”
And they did. Bob and Joe were no more vexed than the others, however, for the men were also anxious to get started into the unknown. But when at last they did sight South America they forgot the past and looked into the future.
The boys, with their cameras in hand, were the first to reach the prow. They were closely followed by their fathers and the professor, who also crowded in for a first view.
At first, land was only a speck far out on the horizon. Then only gradually did it take on form and color.
“We’re nearing Paramaribo,” pronounced Mr. Holton, as he made out the outline of the city.
“What country is it in?” asked Joe.
“Dutch Guiana,” the professor answered. “One of the smallest nations in South America.”
The Empire steamed into a port nearly as busy as that of San Juan, although most of the boats were small.
For a second time the gangplank was lowered, and as the explorers had a half-hour to spare, they started on a short walking trip of the city.
“Quite a bit different from San Juan,” said Bob, as he noted that many of the people were native Indians.
The others nodded. None of them had been here before, and they naturally took a great interest in these unusual surroundings. In fact Professor Bigelow was the only one who had ever seen South America before, but this did not lessen his enthusiasm.
The streets were, for the most part, narrow and straight, cutting one another at right angles. The party was surprised to find the houses extremely low, hardly any of them exceeding two stories. Some were built of brick, but most were of cane plastered with mud.
Several minutes were spent in rambling over the various quarters of the city. Then they went back to the ship, which was now nearly ready to sail.
“South America is all right to visit,” remarked Joe, “but I don’t think I’d care to live here.”
The others agreed with him.
“And yet,” said Professor Bigelow, “there are a number of cities that are very well developed. Take Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires, for instance. They are large, clean, and well kept. A street in Buenos Aires looks very much like a street in the United States.”
Soon the Empire was off, having unloaded a large cargo of American goods. Several passengers also took their leave here.
From then on the scientific party was restless and eager to get started into the unknown. As one nears his goal, he nearly always finds it hard to wait through the last few stretches. Bob and Joe especially were excited, for it was their first adventure. Their hearts throbbed as they eagerly anticipated the coming days.
That evening they arrived in Cayenne, the capital of French Guiana, and, as before, took a short trip about the city. It was much the same as Paramaribo, however, and they were glad to board the Empire again for the last leg of the long journey.
It was about six hundred miles to Macapá, the Empire’s destination, and the party settled back in anticipation.
Neither of the boys did anything of importance. They were too enthusiastic over the coming great adventure.
“Let’s take it easy on deck,” suggested Bob, and they arranged chairs for all of the party that cared to rest.
“There’s nothing like enjoying the spell of the ocean,” remarked Mr. Holton.
A few days later Captain Crowell announced that they were sailing up the mighty Amazon, and the explorers were thrilled to the bone. The Amazon! At last one of their strongest ambitions had been fulfilled. Bob and Joe were overjoyous, for they had had a strong desire to see this great water system.
“Doesn’t look like a river to me,” said Joe as he tried in vain to see the shore.
“Over a hundred miles wide at the delta,” said Bob. “It’s the greatest river system in the world.”
For several hours they steamed on up the great river, past small settlements, plantations, and green islands. Occasionally they would get a glimpse of beautiful wild vegetation, and their hearts would beat fast. Then, almost without knowing it, they came to Macapá.
There was a fairly good port, and the vessel took her place between two small river steamers. The long ocean voyage had come to an end.
“NOW what?” asked Joe, as the party passed on down the gangplank.
“Better get our belongings together first,” said Mr. Lewis. “Then we can make inquiries about the leaving of a boat that’ll take us to our destination.”
“But what about finding a place to stay overnight?” asked the professor.
“You needn’t worry about that.”
All looked around, to see that Captain Crowell had moved up behind them.
“I heard what you said,” he remarked. “And let me say that you are welcome to your berths on the Empire until we leave for New York. That may be tomorrow, or it may be the next day. Go on up and make yourselves at home.”
The party accepted the invitation with warm thanks. Then they moved on up to the boat.
“Pretty soft,” smiled Bob, as they sat on deck. “We might have hunted for hours before finding rooms.”
It was late that night when the party retired, but all slept well and awoke the next morning ready for any plans that might be made.
After breakfast Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton left for the dock, where they would make inquiries about the leaving of a boat for farther upstream. Bob and Joe followed a road out of town to see the country.
They hiked for perhaps two miles, looking sharply about. Then, as there was not much new to see, they turned and went back to town, desirous of finding out what information, if any, their fathers had gained about the leaving of a boat.
By luck the boys met their fathers in the main street, and there were smiles on the men’s faces.
“Pat us on the back,” smiled Mr. Holton, so overjoyed that he could hardly keep his composure.
“What!” cried Bob. “You’ve found a boat so soon?”
The naturalists nodded.
“By chance we met the captain of a small freight vessel that happens to be going up the Purús to Acre, on the Bolivian frontier,” said Mr. Holton. “Sheer luck, I calls it. Any other time it would have been necessary to wait three or four weeks before finding such an opportunity. Of course we wouldn’t have waited that long, though. We would have found it necessary to take two boats, one to Manáos, and one on up the Purús. But the way things are now—” he smiled broadly—“we’re all set for a pleasant voyage, with no stops till we reach our destination.”
“When does the boat leave?” inquired Joe.
“In less than three hours,” his father answered. “That means we’ll have to hurry and get packed.”
They walked on down the dock to the Empire and found Professor Bigelow in the library. He looked up smilingly and placed his book back on the shelf.
“What did you find?” he asked.
Mr. Holton told of obtaining passage on the boat to the Purús, and the anthropologist was delighted beyond words. The delay was maddening to him, even though he was able to keep his time occupied.
It did not take the party long to get their possessions together, and after locating Captain Crowell and thanking him for the use of the berths, they left for the newly chartered boat, which was anchored farther down the pier.
“Small but staunch-looking,” commented Bob, as they came to it.
“Built on rather speedy lines, too,” added Mr. Lewis.
They lugged their baggage up on deck, to be met by the burly captain, who in his rough attire was a strange contrast to Captain Crowell. He was good-natured, however, and readily showed the explorers to their sleeping quarters.
“Hope you have a jolly voyage,” he boomed, leaving for the cabin.
“I told you boys wrong when I said we don’t stop till we get to our destination,” Mr. Holton corrected himself, as the party started out to the rail. “The boat stops at Manáos, but only for a couple of hours. We’ll have time to go about the city.”
A little later the boat’s whistle sounded, and then came the faint chugging of the engines.
“We’re off!” cried Joe excitedly. “Off on the last stretch of our journey.”
Soon the waterfront of Macapá was left behind, and the Selvas, for that was the vessel’s name, steamed out to the middle of the mighty Amazon.
The explorers did not move from deck until one of the crew announced that the noon meal was ready.
“Wonder what we’ll have to eat?” asked Joe, as they went into the dining room.
“Probably salt pork and a few other dishes of cured food,” returned Mr. Lewis, and he was right.
“It’s all right for a change, anyway,” said Bob.
The boys spent the remainder of that day in exploring the boat and were impressed by everything they saw. Aside from the fact that it was rather old, it was worthy of the great river on which it steamed.
“Let’s hear something about Manáos,” Bob said to his father that night. “If we are to see it soon, I’d like to know what to expect.”
“It’s a wonderful city,” Mr. Holton replied. “Large stores, office buildings, hotels. If what I’ve heard is correct, we will be astonished.”
And they were astonished. In fact, when they pulled into the busy port, the boys’ eyes almost popped from their heads. Even after hearing about Manáos from their fathers, they could not believe that they would find anything like this away out in the heart of the vast wilderness.
“Has a rather impressive skyline,” observed Joe, gazing ahead at the outlines of the hotels and office buildings.
“Many of the structures are new,” put in Professor Bigelow. “The city’s growth has been rather rapid. But now,” he went on, “suppose we get off the boat and take a short trip about town.”
The adventurers easily procured a map of the city. Then they boarded a street car for a ride down the principal business street.
“Modern is right,” commented Bob, gazing out at the large buildings, hotels, theaters, and stores.
They passed many points of interest, including the Theatre of Manáos, the many parks and gardens, schools and colleges, and monuments and statues. And to cap all this, they spent several minutes in one of the most complete museums they had ever been in.
“Truly a great city in the heart of the forest,” said Mr. Holton, as they prepared to board the boat for the continuation of the journey.
They got to the Selvas with barely five minutes to spare. Already the crew were making ready for the long voyage that was to follow.
Shortly later they were again in the midst of the forest, after having left Manáos behind.
“I see we’re not the only passengers on the boat,” said Professor Bigelow, glancing across at two men who sat near the stern.
“Probably they’re rubber gatherers who have a plantation farther down,” was the opinion voiced by Mr. Lewis, and his guess was right, as they later found out when an acquaintance sprang up between the Brazilians and the Americans.
That acquaintance was delightful and tended to relieve the monotony of the trip. The men, Acmio and Piemo by name, took a liking to the explorers and told of many strange sights of the jungle. They knew nothing, however, of the region the expedition was going to penetrate.
“I bet we won’t find anything, either,” said Joe. “No one seems to have been far in the interior.”
At last the Selvas came to the Purús River, and down this it steamed.
“Considerably narrower than the Amazon,” observed Bob. “But at that it’s a good many rods across.”
“The Purús is noted for its crooked course,” remarked Professor Bigelow. “The sand bars occur with such regularity that the natives reckon distances by counting the number of them.”
At this time of year the water was rather high, for the rainy season was barely over.
They steamed on for the greater part of that day before coming to a settlement, and this was small and crude. They did not stop, although several men came out to greet them.
As they steamed farther, the river became more crooked. In fact it was often impossible to see more than three hundred feet ahead. And as they penetrated deeper into the jungle, vegetation became more dense. Great clusters of bright-colored flowers lined the banks, tall trees showed themselves above the other growth, parasitic vines wound themselves around forest giants. Ferns, high grass, small bushes, oddly shaped stalks—all these caught the eyes of the explorers.
After a long journey they reached the mouth of the Tapauá, and at a small town between the two rivers the boat stopped. Here the adventurers got off.
It seemed strange to set foot on ground out here away from civilization. Why, it was almost like another world! For some time Bob and Joe could not realize that they were now in the very heart of the great Amazon jungle.
The captain of the Selvas had given the party a letter of recommendation to a Brazilian who would be able to fit them out with boats and Indian crew. He lived at the edge of the town, and to that place they went, led by Mr. Holton.
They found the man sitting idly in his thatched house. He was very tall and slender, but looked to be possessed of great strength.
“You are Senhor del Pereo?” asked Mr. Holton in the native tongue.
“Sí,” the man replied.
Bob’s father took out the letter and handed it to him.
He read carefully for several moments. Then his face lighted.
Sure he would help them. Anyone who was a friend of the captain was a friend of his. It would be easy to get a boat—or boats, for that matter—and he knew of several trustworthy Indians who would readily act as guides. But he knew nothing about the distant country. Few people did. It was a land of mystery.
Mr. Holton translated to Bob and Joe. Then he again turned to the Brazilian.
“You will lead us to the boats and guides now?”
“Yes.”
They started out, the Brazilian in the van.
He led them around the village to a large native hut, in front of which sat several semi-naked Indians. They were on their feet in an instant when they caught sight of Senhor del Pereo, and with friendly greetings listened to what he had to say.
For several minutes he conversed with them in their native tongue, and in the end they nodded in acceptance.
“They will go,” he said to the explorers. “They will be your guides in an unknown country.”
“NOW the next thing is to get boats,” said Mr. Holton.
Senhor del Pereo announced that it would be possible to get them at once, without having to have them constructed, and the explorers were delighted.
He led them down to the river bank, where two large canoes were aground. Each was about thirty-five feet long and capable of carrying a ton and a half of cargo with ease. Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis were amazed.
“They are not native canoes,” Mr. Lewis said, as he noted the deep, full lines and high freeboard.
The Brazilian explained that they had been used by a party of British hunters on the Purús River, and were purchased when the men were through with them for a small sum.
“Got it all over Indian boats,” remarked Bob, glancing farther down at several that were moored.
The Indians had accompanied them to the boats, and now Senhor del Pereo introduced the ones who were to be a part of the expedition. There were six of them—three to attend to each boat. All were large, strong fellows, capable of any kind of work required by the venture, and the Brazilian assured the explorers that they could be relied upon.
After attending to a few more matters with Senhor del Pereo, the party set about loading their provisions and supplies in one of the boats; the other was to be used as a storeplace for the specimens they would collect.
Bob and Joe did a good share of the work. Then occasionally they would take motion pictures.
When the last box was lifted up, Mr. Holton gave the sign, and, with parting words with the Brazilian who had done so much for them, they got in the foremost canoe and were paddled upstream by the crew. At last they were off for the unknown.
“Now for the fun,” smiled Joe, as he cranked the movie camera and looked expectantly into the green depths of the bordering jungle.
“I suppose you’re referring to hunting,” said Mr. Lewis. “Well, we’ll do plenty of that a little later. But first we want to penetrate a large distance from any outposts of civilization.”
At the start, the river was rather wide, but it promised to narrow later.
They glided swiftly on for perhaps three hours. Then Mr. Lewis suggested that they stop for the noon meal. Meanwhile, the crew could be resting.
The boats were brought to a stop at a large sand bank, and all climbed out to stretch their legs after such a long journey in more or less one position. Bob and Joe felt like running and shouting.
“Like to go in for a swim,” said Bob, wiping the perspiration from his streaming brow.
“So would everyone else,” returned Mr. Lewis. “But with the alligators and piranhas and other dangerous aquatic forms it’s absurd even to think of such a thing.”
“Are they this close to the Purús?” asked Joe. “I thought they were found deeper in the jungle.”
Mr. Holton shook his head.
“Piranhas and alligators are very common all through this region,” he said.
Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis got out a ration of food, while Bob and Joe attended to minor tasks. Professor Bigelow looked after the plates and utensils.
In a short time the meal was prepared, and all ate in quiet contentment. The food tasted good after those three long hours of constant traveling.
Bob and Joe glanced at the frowning jungle, which was but a short distance away. It seemed to challenge the explorers to penetrate its leafy depths, although in many places this was almost impossible.
“Quite a variety of trees,” observed Bob, his eye scanning the edge. “I suppose there are hundreds of different kinds.”
“There are,” answered Professor Bigelow. “All different kinds, from mahogany to bacaba palms. Much of the wood is worthlessly soft and useless, but mahogany and a few others are shipped to all parts of the world. There would be a much greater amount sent out, though, if it were all buoyant. The fact that many of the logs are not prevents them from being floated downstream.”
The explorers spent several minutes in the shade of a large tree, talking and chatting merrily. Then the professor suggested that they move on, and the others were more than glad to do so.
“You’re right,” Mr. Lewis told the professor. “We want to cover as much ground as possible today.”
The provisions were packed in the boat. They then boarded, to be paddled upstream by the Indians.
There was plenty of room to move about, and the youths shifted their positions frequently. Not because they grew tired of the scenery, however, for at every yard there was something new to see. Bright-colored flowers lined the banks, red-leafed bushes were common, tall palms, grotesque vines, ferns, plants of all kinds that baffled the boys. Occasionally they would pass dead branches covered with living orchids. Then again there were trees that themselves had flowers. Once they came to a tree over fifty feet high with wide, spreading branches that were covered with yellow blossoms.
Often the river would bend sharply, making necessary utmost caution by the crew. On one such occasion the explorers were engaged in conversation when suddenly a loud splash from ahead made them look up. Then, as they rounded the bend, they saw something that made them jump to their feet and grasp their rifles.
ON the bank not far away were at least fifteen large alligators, their hideous jaws partly open as they basked in the hot sun. Frequently one would plunge into the water to cool itself, and then there would be a terrific splashing about.
As soon as possible, the Indians stopped the boats, and the explorers viewed the creatures with a terrible awe. Here was their first encounter with the wild life of Brazil. Here, not far away, were some of the most terrible reptiles of South America.
For some time the alligators did not seem to notice the human invaders. Then they one by one crawled off the bank and sank a few inches beneath the water.
“Evidently don’t care for our company,” said Joe in a low tone. He had brought the movie camera to his shoulder and was taking in the unusual sight.
It was thought best not shoot any of the reptiles for fear of causing an undue commotion. Then, too, it would prove difficult to get the victims in the boat with so many others around.
In a short time no traces of the creatures were left, and the Indians again turned to the paddles.
“Is it safe to go on?” asked Joe.
“Yes,” the professor replied. “They probably won’t attack the boats. And if they should they could do little or no damage to the stout hulls.”
For a few seconds he conversed with the Indians. Then the party resumed the journey, keeping a close watch about.
No more was seen of the alligators, and the explorers again were quiet. But now they were more anxious than ever before, for the past experience had stirred their sporting blood and made them long for a jaunt in the forest. Even Professor Bigelow was affected, and he sat fingering his rifle as if awaiting another such incident.
“Alligators and crocodiles are very much alike,” said Mr. Lewis, wishing to break the silence. “The only difference is in the canine teeth. In the alligator they fit into pits in the upper jaw; in the crocodile they fit into notches. Otherwise they look alike.”
“Which is the most ferocious?” inquired Joe, thoroughly interested.
“Scarcely any difference,” his father returned. “Both are bad enough when they’re after you.”
For a time the adventurers paddled near the center of the river, in order to avoid heavy piles of brush that lay near the shore’s edge. They did not feel like talking. The mid-afternoon sun beat down upon them until they were dripping with perspiration. Why, even summer Florida weather was nothing to this!
The water glistened like silver. It was almost impossible even to cast eyes upon it, for the reflection of the sun was extremely blinding.
For entertainment and amusement the boys’ fathers and Professor Bigelow related some of their experiences, which Bob and Joe never grew tired of hearing. The naturalists told of encounters with wild animals; the professor, of savage people. Bob and Joe sat in silence, marveling that before long they could tell of happenings probably as much or more breath-taking.
Suddenly, as they neared a patch of bright red bushes, Mr. Holton called to the Indians to stop the boat.
“What is it?” asked Bob, and then his gaze followed that of his father.
Not far away on a low branch was a large oriole, almost the size of a crow, with a red and white bill, and yellow, green, and brown plumage. It uttered not a word, although no one doubted that it could.
“We must have that bird,” whispered Mr. Holton. “It is rather rare, and few of them are in museums. Keep quiet now, while I get a small gun.”
The others obeyed. The naturalist found a suitable shotgun. He raised it to his shoulder, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger.
The next moment there was a terrible screeching and wailing. The bird fluttered about for a brief second, then fell into the water.
“You got him,” said Bob joyously. “You——Well, of all things!”
The reason for his exclamation was not far to seek. No sooner had the bird struck the water than a rather small fish darted to the surface, caught the bird by the breast, and bit it in two. It evidently did not like the taste, however, for the remains of the bird’s body were left to float on the water.
“Stung!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, regaining his breath. “The piranhas spoiled the chance of getting that specimen.”
“So that fish was a piranha?” asked Joe, looking to see if he could locate it in the dark water.
“Yes,” Mr. Lewis returned. “They’re mean creatures, all right. Got a temper like a bull. They’ll attack anything from jaguars to people, and they usually do the job right. I once heard of a man devoured by them in a very short time.”
“It wasn’t very large,” said Bob. “Looked about like a pickerel to me.”
“It isn’t their size,” his father returned. “It’s their ferocity—and strong, sharp teeth.”
“Let’s don’t worry about the bird,” consoled the professor. “We’ll probably see more of them later on.”
The naturalists resolved to follow the professor’s advice and regard the matter as one of the many discouragements that could be expected at almost any time.
“After all, we didn’t lose much,” said Mr. Lewis. “But then—but then——”
As they paddled on, signs of life became more frequent. Once there was a small flock of bright red birds, and the naturalists had more luck in bringing them in as specimens. None was shot near the river; only those on shore were aimed at. A little later they saw the first monkeys since they had turned down this river. They had often heard the little creatures in the depths of the jungle, but had never been successful in getting a glimpse of them.
Along toward evening Mr. Lewis suggested that they go ashore and pitch camp for the night. His friends agreed, and after making sure that the Indians were willing, he gave the word and the boats were turned into a little cove, where they were tied to a stout tree.
“Plenty of room around here,” observed Bob, as he got out and stretched his legs. “No trees within a radius of several score feet. Ought to be fairly good protection against night marauders.”
The tents and poles were untied, and after locating a suitable site the stakes were driven to the ground, the poles hoisted, and the hammocks hung.
Then a bountiful supper was prepared, and the party ate hungrily. Bob and Joe especially partook of large quantities, for their appetites were those of youth.
After the meal the explorers sat in a group, chatting merrily. Even the Indians took part in the conversation, answering many of the whites’ questions about the jungles they were passing through. Bob and Joe had trouble in understanding them, but their fathers translated whenever there was any difficulty.
A little later, darkness fell suddenly, and with it came the chill of night.
“Seems strange that the nights should be so cool when the days are so hot,” remarked Bob, going into the tent for a coat.
“Does at that,” said Mr. Lewis. “But it’s true of all tropical places.”
Soon the sky became dotted with countless numbers of twinkling stars. Soon afterwards the moon came out in full splendor, flooding the boundless expanse with enchanting light, and casting a reflection on the water beautiful beyond description.
The explorers were filled with awe as they sat staring into the vast jungle, thrilled that they were the only inhabitants on this wild shore.
For some time no one spoke. Then Mr. Holton rose and looked at his watch.