There were islands in this river,--islands that seemed to have no
shores, but lay half submerged in mid-stream, like huge water-logged
bouquets. There were sand-bars in the river, and upon these we sometimes
ran, and were brought to a sudden stand-still that startled us not a
little; then we backed off with what dignity we might, and gave the
unwelcome obstructions a wide berth.

Perhaps the most interesting event of the voyage was "wooding up." A few
hours after we had entered the river our steamer made for the shore.
More than once in her course she had rounded points that seemed to block
the way; and occasionally there were bends so abrupt that we found
ourselves apparently land-locked in the depths of a wilderness which
might well be called prodigious. Now it was evident that we were heading
for the shore, and with a purpose, too. As we drew nearer, we saw among
the deep tangle of leaves and vines a primitive landing. It was a little
dock with a thatched lodge in the rear of it and a few cords of wood
stacked upon its end. There were some natives here--Indians
probably,--with dark skins bared from head to foot; they wore only the
breech-clout, and this of the briefest. Evidently they were children of
Nature.

Having made fast to this dock, these woodmen speedily shouldered the
fuel and hurried it on board, while they chanted a rhythmical chant that
lent a charm to the scene. We were never weary of "wooding up," and were
always wondering where these gentle savages lived and how they escaped
with their lives from the thousand and one pests that haunted the forest
and lay in wait for them. Every biting and stinging thing was there. The
mosquitoes nearly devoured us, especially at night; while serpents,
scorpions, centipedes, possessed the jungle. There also was the lair of
larger game. It is said that sharks will pick a white man out of a crowd