The arrival of Death in our camp showed us all how far we were in
the grasp of actual, threatening danger. We stood about the grave in
silence. These men, these Indians of the Amazon, were very human;
somehow, I always considered them equals and not of an inferior
race. We had worked together, eaten and slept and laughed together,
and now together we faced the mystery of Death. The tie between us
became closer; the fraternity of common flesh and blood bound us.
The next day I arose and was able to walk around, having injected my
left arm with copious doses of quinine and arsenical acid. Borrowing
thus false strength from drugs, I was able, to some extent, to roam
around with my camera and secure photographs that I wanted to take
home with me to the States.
I had constructed a table of stalks of the _murumuru_ palm-leaves,
and I had made a sun-dial by the aid of a compass and a stick, much to
the delight of the men, who were now able to tell the hour of the day
with precision. The next day I had another attack of fever and bled
my arm freely with the bistoury, relieving myself of about sixteen
ounces of blood. Shortly after nine o'clock in the morning I heard
a shot which I recognised as being that of Jerome's muzzle-loader;
soon afterward he made his appearance with a splendid specimen of a
jet-black jaguar, killed by a shot behind the ear.
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