hem.

Not only were the branches of the adjoining trees interlocked, but from
one to the other straggled a luxurious growth of creepers, forming a
network so strong and compact that a steamer of a hundred horse-power
would have been safely brought to a stand among its meshes. Of course no
attempt was made to penetrate this impenetrable _chevaux de frise_; and
after a while had been spent in reconnoitring it, Trevannion, guided by
the counsel of the Mundurucu, ordered the galatea to go about, and
proceed along the selvage of the submerged forest. An hour was spent in
paddling. No opening. Another hour similarly employed, and with similar
results!

The river might be in the direction pointed out by the Indian. No doubt
it was; but how were they to reach it? Not a break appeared in all that
long traverse wide enough to admit the passage of a canoe. Even an arrow
could scarce have penetrated among the trees, that extended their
parasite-laden branches beyond the border of the forest! By tacit
consent of the patron, the paddlers rested upon their oars; then plied
them once more; and once more came to a pause.

No opening among the tree-tops; no chance to reach the channel of the
Solimoes. The gloomy day became gloomier, for night was descending over
the Gapo. The crew of the galatea, wearied with many hours of exertion,
ceased paddling. The patron did not oppose them; for his spirit, as well
as theirs, had become subdued by hope long deferred. As upon the
previous night, the craft was moored among the tree-tops, where her
rigging, caught among the creepers, seemed enough to keep her from
drifting away. But very different from that of the preceding night was
the slumber enjoyed by her crew. Amidst the boughs of the _sapucaya_,
there had been nothing to disturb their tranquillity, save the
occasional shower of nuts, caused by the cracking of the dry shells, and
the monkey-pots discharging their contents. Then was the galatea
"grounded" upon a solitary tree, which carried only its own fruit.
To-night she was moored in the middle of a forest,--at all events upon
its edge,--a forest, not of the earth, nor the air, nor the water, but
of all three,--a forest whose inhabitants might be expected to partake
of a character altogether strange and abnormal. And of such character
were they; for scarce had the galatea become settled among the
tree-tops, when the ears of her crew were assailed by a chorus of
sounds, that with safety migh