walled wilderness. Here their journey, as originally laid out, should have ended, but they were lured on by the statements of the wild tribes they met, they being told of a rich and populous land at ten days' journey in advance, in which gold could be found in abundance.

Gold was a magic word to the Spaniards, and they went eagerly onward, over a country of broad savannahs which led to seemingly endless forests, where grew trees of stupendous bulk, some so large that the extended arms of sixteen men could barely reach around them. A thick net-work of vines and creepers hung in bright-colored festoons from tree to tree, beautiful to look at but very difficult to pass. The axe was necessary at every step of the way, while their garments, rotted with the incessant rains, were torn into rags by the bushes and brambles of the woodland. Their provisions had been long since spoiled by the weather, and their drove of swine had vanished, such of the animals as were not consumed having strayed into the woods and hills. They had brought with them nearly a thousand dogs, many of them of the ferocious bloodhound breed, and these they were now glad enough to kill and eat. When these were gone no food was to be had but such herbs and edible roots and small animals as the forest afforded.

At length the disconsolate wanderers emerged on the banks of a broad river, the Napo, one of the great tributaries of the Amazon, issuing from the northern Andes to seek a home in the bosom of

that mighty stream. Gladdened by the sight, they followed its banks downward, hoping in this way to find an easier route. Thickets still beset their way, through which it needed all their strength to open a passage, and after going a considerable distance a loud and increasing noise met their ears. For miles

they followed it as it gradually rose into a roar, and at length they reached a place where the stream rushed furiously down steep rapids, and at the end poured in a vast volume of foam down a magnificent cataract, twelve hundred feet in depth.

This was the height of the fall as measured by the eyes of the wanderers, a guide not much to be relied on. The stream itself had narrowed until it was at this point not more than twenty feet wide, and the hungry wanderers determined to cross it, with the hope of finding beyond it a country yielding more food. A bridge was constructed by felling great trees across the chasm, the water here running through vertical walls several hundred feet in depth. Over this rude bridge men and horses made their way, only one Spaniard being lost by tumbling down the giddy depth.

The country beyond the stream proved no better than that they had left, and the only signs of inhabitants they met were savage and hostile tribes of Indians, with whom they kept up a steady skirmish. Some of the more friendly told them that the fruitful land they sought was but a few. days' journey down the river, and they went wearily on, day by day, as the promised land still fled before

their feet. Doubtless they were led by their own desires to misinterpret the words of the Indians. In the end Gonzalo Pizarro decided on building a vessel large enough to carry the baggage and the men too weak to walk. Timber was superabundant. The shoes of horses that had died or had been killed for food were wrought into nails. Pitch was obtained from gum-yielding trees. In place of oakum the tattered garments of the soldiers were used. It took two months to complete the difficult task, at the end of which time a rude but strong brigantine was ready, the first vessel larger than an Indian canoe that ever floated on the mighty waters of Brazil. It was large enough to carry half the Spaniards that remained alive after their months of terrible travel.

Pizarro gave the command of the vessel to Francisco de Orellana, a man in whose courage and fidelity he put full trust. The company now resumed its march more hopefully, following the course of the Napo for weeks that lengthened into months, the brigantine keeping beside them and transporting the weaker whenever a difficult piece of country was reached. In this journey the last scraps of provisions were consumed, including their few remaining horses, and they were so pressed by hunger as to eat the leather of their saddles and belts. Little food was yielded by the forest, and such toads, serpents, and other reptiles as they found were greedily devoured.

Still the story of a rich country, inhabited by

a populous nation, was told by the wandering Indians, but it was always several days ahead. Pizarro at length decided to stop where he was and feed on the scanty forest spoil, while Orellana went down the stream in his brigantine to where, as the Indians said, the Napo flowed into a greater river. Here the nation they sought was to be found, and Orellana was bidden to get a supply of provisions and bring them back to the halfstarved company. Taking fifty of the adventurers in the vessel, he pushed off into the swift channel of the river and shot onward in a speedy voyage which quickly took him and his comrades out of sight.

Days and weeks passed, and no sign of the return of the voyagers appeared. In vain the waiting men strained their eyes down the stream and sent out detachments to look for the vessel farther down. Finally, deeming it useless to wait longer, they resumed their journey down the river, spending two months in advancing five or six hundred miles-those of them who did not die by the way. At length they reached the point they sought, where the Napo plunged into a much larger stream, that mighty river since known as the Amazon, which rolls for thousands of miles eastward through the vast Brazilian forest.

Here they looked in vain for the brigantine and the rich and populous country promised them. They were still in a dense forest region, as unpromising as that they had left. As for Orellana

and his companions, it was naturally supposed that they had perished by famine or by the hands of the ferocious natives. But they learned differently at length, when a half-starved and half-naked white man emerged from the forest, whom they recognized as Sanches de Vargas, one of Orellana's companions.

The tale he told them was the following: The brigantine had shot so swiftly down the Napo as to reach in three days the point it had taken them two months to attain. Here, instead of finding supplies with which to return, Orellana could obtain barely enough food for himself and his men. To attempt to ascend against the swift current of the river was impossible. To go back by land was a formidable task, and one that would add nothing to the comfort of those left behind. In this dilemma Orellana came to the daring decision to go on down the Amazon, visiting the populous nations which he was told dwelt on its banks, descending to its mouth, and sailing back to Spain with the tidings and the glory of a famous adventure and noble discovery.

ness.

He found his reckless companions quite ready to accept his perilous scheme, with little heed of the fate of the comrades left behind them in the wilderDe Vargas was the only one who earnestly opposed the desertion as inhuman and dishonorable, and Orellana punished him by abandoning him in the wilderness and sailing away without him.

The story of Orellana's adventure is not the least