exactly where they were or how many more weeks the journey would be prolonged. The men blamed Senhor Rodriguez. Some were threatening to quit. But how? There was no place to go or to obtain food. Any small aggravation caused fights to break out. They threatened to put a bullet in Rodriguez’s head for having gotten them into such a predicament. They were weakened from lack of proper nourishment, worn by deadly monotony, exhausted by fighting the rapids. Nerves were stretched like violin strings ready to snap. Themenhadbecomesuspiciousofeachother,uncommunicative, and sullen. The chills and fever of malaria, sores from water and sun - each succeeding day brought more discomfort. On the twenty-first day a further mishap befell. The party pushed off from shore about seven in the morning, and the missionaries were hoping for a good day. The first canoe which carried men who went ahead as lookouts started out, and suddenly rounded a bend in the river. As the other canoes followed around the bend, all they saw were men floundering and struggling for their lives in the swift-flowing torrent. Paddles suddenly shifted their rhythm to check the canoes in their movement. There was struggling and shouting. A swift rescue saved the men from a watery grave. The loss of the canoe was a great one.
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