monkeys, tied to a board in a corner were
playing and fighting together. A large parrot was making discursive
comment on the whole affair, while a little lame dog seemed to be the
most interested spectator. The secretary took the bistoury from the
bowl containing the sublimate and handed it to me with a bow. With
a piece of cotton I washed the intended spot of operation and traced
a line with a pencil on the arm.

Imagine with what emotions I worked! After we had once started,
however, we forgot everything except the success of our operation. I
omit a description of the details, as they might prove too
gruesome. The woman fainted from shock just before we touched the
bone,--Nature thus supplying an effective, if rude, anaesthetic. We
had forgotten about sewing together the flesh, and when we came
to this a boy was dispatched to the owner's house for a package of
stout needles. These were held in the fire for a few seconds, and
then immersed when cold in the sublimate before they were used to
join the flesh. By the time it was done, I was, myself, feeling very
sick. Finally I could stand the little room of torture no longer,
and left the secretary dressing the wound. Would she recover from
the barbaric operation? This question kept coursing through my head
as I vainly tried for a long time to go to sleep.

The next day, after an early observation of my patient, who seemed
to have recovered from the shock and thus gave at least this hope
of success, I spent my time going around to visit the homes of the
_seringueiros_. They were all as polite as their chief, and after
exchanging the salute of "Boa dia," they would invite me to climb
up the ladder and enter the hut. Here they would invariably offer
me a cup of strong coffee. There were always two or three hammocks,
of which I was given the one I liked best. The huts generally consist
of two rooms with a few biscuit-boxes as chairs, and Winchester rifles
and some fancy-painted paddles to complete the furniture.

The following day I arose with the sun and, after some coffee, asked
a huge small-pox-scarred fellow to accompany me on my first excursion
into the real jungle. Up to this time I had only seen it from my back
porch in Remate de Males and from the deck of the launch _Carolina_,
but now I was in the heart of the forest and would indulge in jungle
trips to my heart's content. We entered through a narrow pathway called
an _estrada_, whose gateway was guarded by a spl