We
were careened at a dangerous angle when I awoke and in my reduced
condition it was not difficult to imagine that a capsize was to be the
result. But with a ripping, rending sound the launch suddenly righted
itself. It developed that we had had a more serious encounter with
a protruding branch than in any of the previous collisions. This one
had caught on the very upright to which my hammock was secured. The
stanchion in this case was iron and its failure to give way had caused
the boat to tilt. Finally the iron bent to an S shape and the branch
slipped off after tearing the post from its upper fastenings. It
was a narrow escape from a calamity, but the additional excitement
aggravated my fever and I went from bad to worse. Therefore it was
found advisable, when we arrived, late the next day, at the mouth of
the Branco, to put me ashore to stay in the hut of the manager of the
rubber estate, so that I might not cause the crew and the passengers
of the launch inconvenience through my sickness and perhaps ultimate
death. I was carried up to the hut and placed in a hammock where
I was given a heavy dose of quinine. I dimly remember hearing the
farewell-toot of the launch as she left for the down-river trip, and
there I was alone in a strange place among people of whose language
I understood very little.
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