In Search of an Unknown Race — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

before been navigated beyond a little settlement of Mauri Indians, some twenty miles from its mouth, excepting by one or two parties of venturesome ex- plorers. Some distance above its mouth, the river had over- flowed its banks. For miles a watery forest, or yveapos, as the flooded plains are termed, extended on every side. It was an easy matter to follow the river bed, but toward the close of the day a deviation was made among the tree trunks in pursuit of a wounded duck which had fallen at a discharge of Van’s gun. The mast had been unstepped on account of the dif- ficulty of forcing the boat along among the bushy tops of the jungle brush, which rose only a short distance above the surface. Van, sitting in the stern and holding the short steer- Ing Oar, was directing the course of the boat, which Bob Martin, hidden by the cabin amidships, was paddling as directed by Tom. The negro was in the bow, reaching out with a rude substitute for a boat-hook, and trying to secure the wounded duck, which managed to keep just out of reach. As the boat passed under the branches of a huge wild fie tree, which, matted with thick vines and creepers, stretched out in every direction for many yards, Van was conscious of a slight rustling above him. Looking up involuntarily, he had a glimpse of an olive-hued face bending over a parting among the foliage directly above his head. Almost simultaneously two muscular hands attached to long brown sinewy arms were thrust quickly downward, and, clutching Van by either shoulder, jerked him suddenly up through she Opening as easily as though he had been a child. Eomicboo (E(0)