the urethra
of a man. The man subsequently died from the hemorrhage following
the operation.

Largely through the danger of the attack from this scourge, though
perhaps not entirely, the natives have adopted the method of bathing
in use. A plunge into the river is unheard of, and bath-houses are
constructed so as to make this unnecessary. A hole about eighteen
inches square is cut in the middle of the floor--built immediately
above the water--through which the bather, provided with a calabash
or gourd of the bread-fruit tree, dips water up and pours it over
himself after he has first examined it carefully. The indigenous
Indians, living in the remote parts of the forest, do not use this
mode of protection, but cover the vulnerable portions of the body
carefully with strips of bark, which render complete immersion
less dangerous.

During my walks in the forest I often came across snakes of
considerable length, but never found any difficulty in killing them, as
they were sluggish in their movements and seemed to be inoffensive. The
rubber-workers, who had no doubt had many encounters with reptiles,
told me about large _sucurujus_ or boa-constrictors, which had their
homes in the river not many miles from headquarters. They told me
that these snakes were in possession of hypnotic powers, but this,
like many other assertions, should be taken with a large grain of
salt. However, I will relate an incident which occurred while I
lived at Floresta, and in which I have absolute faith, as I had the
opportunity of talking to the persons involved in the affair.

Jose Perreira. a rubber-worker, had left headquarters after having
delivered his weekly report on the rubber extracted, and was paddling
his canoe at a good rate down the stream, expecting to reach his
hut before midnight. Arriving at a recess in the banks formed by the
confluence of a small creek called Igarape do Inferno, or the Creek
of Hell, he thought that he heard the noise of some game, probably a
deer or tapir, drinking, and he silently ran his canoe to the shore,
where he fastened it to a branch, at the same time holding his rifle
in readiness. Finally, as he saw nothing, he returned to the canoe
and continued his way down-stream.

Hardly more than ten yards from the spot, he stopped again and
listened. He heard only the distant howling of a monkey. This he was
used to on his nightly trips. No! there was something else! He could
not say it was a sound. It