to Para and the Atlantic coast.

Leaving the Queneveta range, I started with two of the Indians as
guides and travelling companions; but their journey ended only
half-way to the river I wished to reach; and they left me with
some friendly savages living on the Chunapay, a tributary of the
Cunucumana, which flows to the Orinoco. Here I had no choice but
to wait until an opportunity of attaching myself to some party of
travelling Indians going south-west should arrive; for by this
time I had expended the whole of my small capital in ornaments
and calico brought from Manapuri, so that I could no longer
purchase any man's service. And perhaps it will be as well to
state at this point just what I possessed. For some time I had
worn nothing but sandals to protect my feet; my garments
consisted of a single suit, and one flannel shirt, which I washed
frequently, going shirtless while it was drying. Fortunately I
had an excellent blue cloth cloak, durable and handsome, given to
me by a friend at Angostura, whose prophecy on presenting it,
that it would outlast ME, very nearly came true. It served as a
covering by night, and to keep a man warm and comfortable when
travelling in cold and wet weather no better garment was ever
made. I had a revolver and metal cartridge-box in my broad
leather belt, also a good hunting-knife with strong buckhorn
handle and a heavy blade about nine inches long. In the pocket
of my cloak I had a pretty silver tinder-box, and a match-box--to
be mentioned again in this narrative--and one or two other
trifling objects; these I was determined to keep until they
could be kept no longer.

During the tedious interval of waiting on the Chunapay I was told