Chapter X · In the Heart of the Jungle

“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.”