In Search of an Unknown Race — page 155: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

VAN. 143 with a glitter of crimson glory when the raft entered a mountain gorge where the river began making its exit from the great basin of Itambezi. Refreshed by a few hours of the unbroken sleep of superb health, Ninada came on deck—if the expression is allowable—and Van could hardly repress an admiring exclamation as he turned to meet her. For the young girl had donned a dress of soft gray wecuna cloth reaching to her ankles, which, by no means unlike the plain yet pretty yachting suits of the present day, set off her erect, well proportioned figure to the best advantage. Perhaps Van's eyes expressed his admiration as plainly as his lips could have done, for Ninada blushed very prettily as she extended her hand to him in her usual frank, unaffected manner. But there was no attempt just then at conversation. Higher and higher the walls of a great canyon were closing in about the river, whose foaming current was bearing the raft onward with inconceivable rapidity. The roaring of the torrent echoing from the sides of the great rift through the mountain was almost deafen- ing. Hundreds of feet above them rose the irregular masses of granite through which during countless ages the Canuma had worn its way. There were few bends in the river, so that the sturdy helmsman had but little trouble in keeping the raft in the very middle of the current, which Van thinks at the lowest calculation must have sent them along at the rate of twenty miles an hour. As he has since said, it was among the most wonderful experiences of the whole ~ of his South American journeying. EOmMmiGcdoo S (ele) im