The sail that had served the explorers so well, where the Xingu was
broader and with a slower current, became useless, or at least proved
unequal to the task of overcoming the force of the stream.
Consequently they had recourse to the broad-bladed oars, with which
they drove the canoe swiftly against the resisting river, cheered by
the oft-repeated declaration of the Professor, whose spirits never
flagged, that the harder it proved going up stream, the easier must it
be in descending, and that the arrangement was much better than if the
condition of affairs were reversed.

The most tiresome work came when they reached some place, where the
falls or rapids compelled them to land, and, lifting the boat and its
contents from the ground, carry it round the obstruction to the more
favorable current above. These portages varied in length from a few
rods to a fourth of a mile, and the further the party advanced, the
more frequent did they become.

"We have gone far enough for to-night," said the Professor, as the prow
of the boat was turned toward the left bank; "we will go into camp and
make ready for to-morrow."

A few minutes later, the bow of the canoe gently touched the dark sand
of the shore. Bippo, Pedros and Quincal understood their duty so well
that, without suggestion from the others, they leaped into the shallow
waters, ran a few steps, and, grasping the front of the craft, drew it
so far upon the land that the others stepped out without so much as
wetting the soles of their shoes.

This task was no more than finished, when the natives scattered in the
forest, which came almost to the edge of the water, in quest of fuel.