44 Winchester rifles in large numbers, the usual, indispensable
Collins machete, and tobacco in six-feet-long, spindle-shaped
rolls. There was also the "***" Hennessy cognac, selling at 40,000
reis ($14.00 gold) a bottle; and every variety of canned edible from
California pears to Horlick's malted milk, from Armour's corned beef
to Heinz's sweet pickles.
Every one was anxious to get started; I, who had more to look forward
to than months of monotonous labour in the forests, not the least. At
last the owner of the boat arrived, it being then two o'clock in the
afternoon. He came aboard to shake hands with everyone and after a
long period of talking pulled the cord leading to the steam-whistle,
giving the official signal for departure. It then developed that one
of the firemen was missing. Without him we could not start on our
journey. The whistling was continued for fully forty minutes without
any answer. Finally, the longed-for gentleman was seen emerging
unsteadily from the local gin-shop with no sign of haste. He managed
to crawl on board and we were off, amid much noise and firing of guns.
After a two-hours' run we stopped at a place consisting of two houses
and a banana patch. Evidently the owner of this property made a
side-business of supplying palm-wood as fuel for the launch.
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