Heavens Above!

On a recent afternoon whilst strolling about Caledon Kittiwickshire I came upon a curious looking structure. From where I stood it appeared to be a globe much like those that grace many a gentleman's study, but was of gargantuan size and surmounting a dignified stone building.



Walking around to the east side I discovered that I had found the Kittiwickshire Celestial Observatory. The sign clearly stated that visitors are welcome so I went inside.



On the ground floor I found two parlors with tastefully furnished sitting areas. The seats were quite comfortable and I could easily imagine spending time here chatting with friends before and after our visit upstairs.



Utilizing a built-in transportation system, I moved to the second storey where an observation deck presented a panoramic view of Kittiwickshire. One can see the commercial district clearly from here.



But the real treat awaits the visitor just one level higher. Here the night-time sky is presented as I've never seen it before! The scene is awe-inspiring. Any description I make would be woefully inadequate so I highly recommend that you make your way there soon. Thanks are due Mr. Nuclear Slingshot for bringing this wonder to our neighborhood.

Moving

I'm moving. An opportunity recently came to my attention that would provide me with a larger site for my home and lab in a lovely area that I just couldn't pass up. It wasn't an easy decision to make. I've grown fond of my friendly neighbors in Caledon Glengarry, the region's scenic landscape and its wildlife. And so I've packed up my posessions and departed that fair land.

It was so pleasant to work in my conservatory right at the water's edge. And I never got over the thrill of seeing Caledon Air Transport's craft floating majestically above.



I felt privileged to be able to contribute to Caledon's infrastructure in my own, small way with the construction of this simple bridge. It shall, of course, remain so I hope that visitors to Glengarry enjoy the view from it.



And while I'm on the subject of views, I must mention the awe I always felt living, as I did, in the shadow of Steam Sky City. This technological marvel is truly one of the brightest jewels in Caledon's crown. Dodging the odd bit of shrapnel now and then was a small price to pay for having such a fascinating neighbor.



Some things were easier to pack than others. Perhaps, once settled in my new home I'll be able to pursue the answers to the more elusive questions of my life.



For the time being my studies and inquiries shall wait. I've got a new home to build!

Hurricane in New Toulouse!!

I awoke this morning to a dispatch from New Toulouse reporting that a hurricane was under way. The storm is called Adolphe for unknown reasons and has ravaged all the regions. As rumors of zombies and alligators were added to the mix I grabbed my trusty firearm which I usually reserve for the Poetry Slam. I then swiftly made my way to New Toulouse proper and witnessed the storm for myself.

The scene that greeted me was at once frightening and exhilarating. Dark clouds swirled overhead and the rain fell in curtains. The streets were flooded but passable by the determined.



I proceded next to New Toulouse Bourbon and found the situation there even more serious. The flooding was more extensive, even to the extent that I was able to take out my little boat and paddle about the Square as though it were a lake. By this time lightning was flashing all about. At times it struck so close that I felt my fuzz rise with the electricity!



Paddling northward I entered New Toulouse Bayou where I encountered none other than His Grace, Sir Edward Pearse poling about on a raft. We spoke briefly and he told me there had been no reports of injuries so I allowed myself a brief sigh of relief.



Still as I took in the scene I could only think it a miracle no-one was hurt or lost. It appeared the entire region was under water!




This clever beast found refuge on a rooftop!


Only the homes on the highest ground of New Toulouse Bayou appear to have been spared the devastation of this storm. Still, if the character of all the residents of these regions may be judged by the few that I personally know, I have great faith that they shall rebuild. But they will never forget this dramatic time in New Toulouse history. I know I won't.

A Poem

I wrestle with words. My aim is to have something presentable for tomorrow night's poetry slam at Der Hut Des Jaegers as it's been too long since I've participated. As is my practice when I have something to finish, I find something else to do. And so I've decided to share here an untitled work I previously presented. I hope you enjoy it.

My Dear, put down the book you hold.
Put on your coat. The night is cold.
Come! Take my hand. Let's leave our home.
Across the valley dark we'll roam.

I've gathered much for our late feast
composed of grain and fruit and beast
to show how much I care for you.
Do come! Let's trip across the dew.

Tomatoes red are nestled in
the basket tight next to a tin
of herring silver as your eyes
or all the stars now in the skies.

And also here we have some bread
as golden as your own fair head
with honey sweet as your shy smile.
Now, cross the stream log--single file.

Climb down the bank, deep in the glen.
I'm thinking of the roasted hen
with herbs as earthy as your soul
and truffles, too, as black as coal.

Here by the lake our blanket's spread
when normally we'd be abed.
Yet now we'll share this magic scene,
the sapphire sky, the lake of green.

Dessert will be a berry tart
as red and warm as your own heart.
And all throughout a glass of wine
to toast each night that you are mine.

And as our feast draws to its end
I kiss my love, my mate, my friend
and promise to return here soon
to picnic here, beneath the moon

Expedition Oregon

Recently I traveled to the coast of the specific area in the Steelhead region known as Oregon. It was my intention to make cursory explorations of different areas and gain a fuller understanding of the Natural History of this place.

No sooner had I arrived than I made an astonishing discovery. Lying in plain view adjacent to a walking path was an enormous fossil which I believe to be an ammonite. I attempted to place it in my collecting box but it was simply too heavy. On a future trip I shall have to be better prepared to move such specimens to my collection.



The dominant biome of the region is coniferous forest. The ground is carpeted primarily with large ferns and mosses and great trees rise up that would make any visitor feel Tiny.



Many years ago a disastrous forest fire destroyed much of the forest in one area. The noble citizens subsequently replanted and now towers such as this one are used to keep watch for tell-tale smoke. I enjoyed climbing this one but was "spoken to" by the staff for standing on the rail for a better view.



It was nearby that I also found the only steam engine I encountered the entire time I was there. It is used to move heavy logs in timber operations. Again I was "spoken to" by the staff for sitting on the exhibit.



Within the forests there are many dark salamanders. I began a course of research into the question of whether or not salamanders are ticklish. Results were inconclusive. Furthermore, any claims by my detractors that the experiments were conducted solely because I enjoyed poking their soft, smooth tummies are slanderous lies.



Many swift, clear streams run through the mountain valleys. They are home to various species of fish and invertebrates and provide habitat for a fascinating species of bird, the American Dipper.



The beaches of the coast vary in their compositions of cobbles or sand. Locations of one type of the other or any degree in between may be found. In many places great rocks rise from the sea just off the shore. Often they are covered with colonies of sea birds and in the case of the ones I viewed here, fat sea lions on the lower levels.



Sad as I was to depart this beautiful land, I was treated by one last, dramatic view as my airship passed the volcanic mountains responsible for so much of the region's character. I look forward to returning again some day and exploring further.

The Plant is Blooming!

It is with great excitement that I report the plant I collected on last year's expedition has come into bloom again! If you've not yet read the account of its discovery you may do so here. Should you wish to see the actual plant I have left my conservatory open for you to visit it via this SLURL. This truly is a noteworthy event!

Back to the Village and Off to Caledon!

I present here the final entry of one particular journal. You may wish to read from the beginning here.

11 May
The morning was bright but overcast and I was pleased to see that despite the small man's impromptu tumbling performance we were still tied to the bank and not unwittingly drifting with the current. On recalling the night's disruption I noted that the selfsame man was nowhere to be seen. The other men, as relaxed as ever, suggested he had gone into the jungle to obtain a special treat for our breakfast. They reminded me that among the bumping and other noises there had been no splashes and so reassured me he had not fallen overboard or been taken by a cayman. One of them climbed a bit less nimbly than our missing man onto the shore and rekindled a fire in the spot we had used for last night's supper. Soon he was roasting fish for our breakfast. We supplemented the fish with hearty portions of the gruel knowing we would be back at the village well before the end of the day and needed not to hold any in reserve. Besides, we were now down in numbers by at least one and quite possibly two and there was plenty to share. It was at this point that I wondered if the men's careless attitude about their friends' disappearances might be predicated on the belief they would be receiving the absent crew's portion of their fee!

Pushing such unkind thoughts aside I suggested the men search for their small companion. They objected, knowing as well as I that I had a ship to meet. The Boxer would only be able to stop at the village briefly and was coming no further up the river that day. My fears for our second missing man were assuaged as I reasoned that we were, from this spot, less than half a day's journey from the village and that he posessed all the craft necessary to get himself there. I was able to picture him walking into the central ceremonial area as I loaded the last of my crates on the ship and teasingly accusing us of abandoning him.

Thus reassured we made certain the fire was out and took the canoe into the current for the final time. As the sun rose in the sky it became increasingly hot but not unbearably so for the breeze off the water. Turning to look at the flower, perhaps the crowning achievement of this entire expedition, I could only gaze in wonder and its vivid markings, now glowing a deep ruby on its bulging flanks. For a moment I believed I detected an unpleasant note in its previously lovely fragrance, something reminiscent of carrion, but the breeze carried it off as I turned my attention once again to my paddling.

My reckoning of where we were on the length of the river proved to be not far from the mark and we found ourselves paddling up to the beach where the villagers' other canoes were resting only a few hours after mid-day. A troop of children came running to meet us and were soon followed by the various women. All were fascinated by our unusual cargo and I had to gently restrain a few of the children who wanted to climb on top of it. The women returned to their work, casting glances backward as they went on their way and my men had fallen into conversation with others of the village about our excursion. They were just as sanguine as my men had been regarding their two missing fellows so much so that I finally accepted their assessment of the situation.

Knowing my ship was expected to arrive at any time I set the men to one last task. I instructed them to use their skills normally employed in the making of canoes to construct a more proper pot for the large flower. I described a tray-shaped vessel befitting its wide girth but shallow roots and asked if it could be constructed. They responded that such a thing would take some time, but when I reminded them that it need not be watertight and seaworthy they assured me they could assemble it in only a couple of hours. Several of the men set off into the forest where they knew a tree of suitable characteristics had fallen recently.

I turned my attention to moving my crates, collecting boxes, equipment and personal items to the beach in order that the captain and crew of the Boxer would not need to wait for me once the ship had arrived. Some sorting of specimens, topping up jars with spirits and making sure everything was properly packed for the long sea journey kept me occupied for as long as it took the men to construct the pot. When completed it resembled a boat nearly circular in shape but for angled pieces at the bow and stern. It would be perfect for its purpose and what was more, I now had an example of their boatbuilding craft in my possession.

As I stood with the villagers admiring the boat-pot we were startled by a sharp yelp. We turned in time to see one of the young boys tumble from the top of the flower, having climbed it while our attention was elsewhere. A woman, perhaps his mother or an aunt or a sister or any of his father's wives, I still haven't puzzled it all out, rushed to comfort him. He showed her his bloody hand and told us through his tears that the plant had bitten him! No doubt in reaching for the lid of the mammoth flower he had caught his hand on one of the fierce spikes surmounting it. The woman led him away to tend his wound and several of the men joined me in depositing the huge plant in its new home. We settled it in snugly with additional soil some of the women carried from the forest in baskets. Then, with many hands to lift it, carrying it to the beach was light work indeed.

With everything in readiness for my departure I turned to the task of settling my accounts. The remaining rowers who had accompanied me on the excursion and worked so well each received a good sized packet of fishhooks. The rest of these I divided up among the other men present who appeared to greatly appreciate the gifts. Happy to see that the bolts of calico I had brought for trading had remained dry and clean in their box I took them out and passed them to the three very elderly women that everyone appeared to pay special deference to. They accepted the bright cloth with toothless smiles and shuffled away, returning to the endless work the women of this region do regardless of their age. Once they were out of sight, for I knew they wouldn't approve, I took aside my three companions and presented them with the last of my spirits amounting to three full bottles. I was counting on the captain of the Boxer to have an adequate supply of libations as he was reputed to be a good host.

Everyone was well back to their daily tasks an hour later when the sails of the Boxer came around the downstream bend in the river. Soon she was anchored as closely as she could come to the shore and the able-bodied men of the village were ferrying my belongings to her side. I myself waited for the last canoe to go which also happened to be the one bearing my botanical wonder. The crew watched in amazement as it was hoisted onto the deck. As the Captain welcomed me aboard he cast several disbelieving glances back and forth between the flower and me. I assured him I would explain all in good time, but for now I required a proper cup of tea, not having had one in well over a year.

The tide was due to turn so the crew wasted no time in turning the stout ship back downstream. With the current and tide in our favor and a light breeze to help we would be on the open sea by nightfall and I would be settling in my new home in Caledon by Midsummer.

We Return to The River

Welcome to my journal. As this is a continuation of a particular account you may wish to read from the beginning here.

10 May
I awoke before the rest of my party today and proceeded to search through what gear we had brought with us for something to eat. I made no atttempt to do so quietly so the men might be roused from bed and soon they were stretching and yawning and looking about dully. It was not long before we had awakened sufficiently to notice that our numbers had been reduced by one. The somewhat sullen paddler who I believe is the brother of the wife of the man they regard as something of the leader of their small band was nowhere to be seen. They called his name several times as we gathered the few palm fruits that lay in the immediate area. Receiving no response from our missing companion one of the men suggested that he had tried to return to the canoe before us. I was briefly concerned that he might take the vessel himself but was reassured by the others that it was too large for one man to handle alone.

Being, as it were, on a deadline we had no choice but to hoist our massive botanical prize to our shoulders and labor on. The plant seemed considerably more heavy today, probably because of our lack of good, sustaining food as well as lack of our sixth bearer. And, in the morning light, such as it was, the streaks on the bloom appeared brighter. The path back needed slight enlargement at times to allow our burden to pass and when we reached the clear portion of the trail it felt as though we flew compared to the preceding miles. When the bright window of the end of the trail came into view our hearts were lifted. I was further gladdened to see that our canoe was indeed still secured to the river bank but dismayed that the missing paddler was not in sight. His brother-in-law assured me that he had probably gone hunting and would find his own way home. I was skeptical but have learned that the peoples of this country have strange ways I shall never completely understand. As quickly as we could we loaded the plant into the canoe and I was pleased to see that its great bulk was not going to sink us!

Taking up the missing man's paddle I joined in propelling our craft into the the current. We soon fell into an easy rhythm that carried us smoothly past the overhanging trees and vines. Though we were going with the flow of the river now the broad, slow expanse that offered little resistance on our way upstream offered as little help as we went downstream. Still, the work was easy enough that I fell into a reverie after a short while I was startled from the quiet of my own thoughts by a loud shout from the riverbank. There I saw again the hunting party we'd encountered the day before. But this time, rather than greeting us with a smile they were shouting and pointing at us in a most agitated manner. My men were as surprised as I at the change in their character. We were even more shocked when first one and then the others began launching darts in our direction with their blowguns! So great was their fury that the usually precise aim I have observed in all hunters in these lands appeared to have left the men. Rather than sending us to meet our Maker the majority of the darts were striking the goliath flower. Not having our own weapons in hand and no time to retrieve them we resorted to lying flat in the boat and letting the current carry us around a bend in the river and away from our attackers.

We remained thus for nearly half an hour until we were reasonably confident we were safely away from the hunters. When we retook our seats and resumed paddling I asked the men what could have precipitated such an incident. They confessed to being quite astonished by it as they had enjoyed for many years a friendly peace that I described previously. They told me that because of the distance and the hysterical nature of the men's shouting that they could only make out a few words, one of which means "one who takes." They must have heard of me and my practice of collecting all manner of plants and animals. I was at once saddened by the realization that no matter how much time I spent among these people I would always remain a stranger, not one of them. Of course, I had never desired to assimilate into their culture. Returning to Caledon where I could study my specimens, write my papers, and move among the circles of educated, civilized people was always the plan. But I had allowed myself to believe the hospitality I had enjoyed among the natives reflected true friendship.

I put my self-indulgent thoughts aside and fixed my mind on the tasks ahead in arranging for taking my final leave of this entrancing, exotic country. We paddled on for several hours in a silence only broken occasionally by a passing flock of brilliantly plumed birds or the rattling buzz of the large dragonflies. As the sun sank behind the trees and the river darkened we discussed our plans for what I hoped would be our last night on the river. As though by some silent agreement we had been paddling closer to the bank away from the side where we had encountered the attacking hunters. Because it lay on the broad, outside curve of the river it lacked the sandy beaches the inner curve presented at intervals. Rather than cross to that side in search of a spot to drag the canoe ashore again, we decided to simply pull close to the near bank and tie up to one of the overhanging trees.

The smallest of the men, who had a perpetually cheerful and adaptable disposition, leapt the short distance to the bank and was able to clear a bit of ground large enough to build a small fire. The rest of the men had commenced fishing again and would pass each catch to him for roasting. Before it had become completely dark we had each eaten our fill of various finned delicacies. When I am home I shall make an attempt to cook whole some of the local trout that bless Caledon's streams in the manner the natives do here. Perhaps I might even tempt my guests to try these simple, smoky dishes as a diversion from their usual fare of poached fillets with delicate sauces.

After dousing his fire, the small man climbed back into the canoe with the rest of us as we bedded down for the night. He elected to sleep in the back next to the flower saying he enjoyed the fragrance but was deprived of it all day as we paddled into the breeze. Though the sky was moonless it was bright with stars. As I lay awake listening to the rising chorus of nighttime jungle sounds I watched as a bank of clouds slowly drifted in like a stately ship obscuring the twinkling lights. Closing my eyes I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

To this day I don't know how long we'd been sleeping when the commotion began. It was unimaginably dark so it must have been near midnight. I was awakened by a loud thud coming from the back of the canoe. "Ah! Little Chico has fallen out of bed!," cried one of the older men. "You'd better climb back or none of us will get any sleep!" More thumping and some rustling sounds ensued as "Chico" presumably restacked his bed of crates. Silence, except for the resumed snoring of the men and the stridulations of a thousand jungle insects, returned to our floating bunkhouse and I slept again.

The Excursion Continues and a Discovery is Made

Following is the first part of an account of my final expedition before taking up residence in Caledon last year at about this time. If you've not yet read the first entry in this journal you may wish to. It will be found here.

9 May
This morning I rose and bathed in the river before breakfast while the paddlers fished upstream. As I floated in the warm water I reckoned the number of days that were left before the Boxer set sail and was forced to confront a fact I had hence been avoiding in my mind: I could go no further up the river and expect to be back at the port in time to ready for my final departure for Caledon. When I returned to our little camp the men were already roasting fat fillets of fish, another species I'd not yet seen at that, over the fire. I informed them that this spot was as far as this excursion would go and that, rather than spending a day paddling, we would travel deeper into the jungle that I may examine more of the zoological and botanical productions of this land.

When we had consumed our simple but quite delicious fare I selected the equipment we would take with us into the interior. Several sharp, heavy machetes along with my collecting net and specimen boxes were required, of course. My compass, a small hand axe and a short blowgun with darts one of the men had in his posession were included as well. We reasoned that the last would be useful should we encounter any of the small monkeys that have as yet not shown themselves at the eaves of the forest.

We elected to enter the jungle by way of a narrow track of bare soil most likely maintained by the frequent visits of tapirs to the water's edge. The swiftness with which the light departed as we started along the path was remarkable. Looking back after moving only a few dozen paces the opening of the path at the river appeared as a distant, shining window, the smooth flowing water visible beyond it. Turning again toward our unknown destination the gloom seemed double.

After nearly an hour of fairly easy walking I had only collected one beetle but it was of exceptional size and beauty. The only butterflies to be seen were barely discernable as they floated amonst the highest branches of the towering trees, quite out of reach of my net. Several more blooming orchids of the smaller, less showy varieties had been added to my boxes during the very first portion of our march but now none were to be seen. What was more, the path was becoming less obvious as this portion had not been traversed as frequently as where we began.

As I had noted the path had taken us away from the river in a more or less perpendicular direction it seemed logical to continue on this course to penetrate most deeply into the jungle in the time we had. Taking a reading from my compass I determined that a direct southerly route would serve us. Frequent checks of the needle and the stumps and stubs left by our machetes would direct us back on the same route when we returned.

Two more hours passed as we moved more slowly but more deeply into the jungle. Occasional patches of ground presented little resistance to our passage but inevitably ended in a dense barrier that required several minutes of machete work to get through. It was just past one of these tangles of undergrowth that we emerged into a substantial open area and were greeted with an indescribably pleasant fragrance. The clearing itself was perhaps twenty yards in width and considerably brighter than the surrounding jungle owing to a gap in the canopy left by a recently fallen tree which now lay athwart our intended path. We clambered onto the trunk and were presented with a most remarkable scene. Like an immense toad squatting near the center of the clearing there rested a flower the like of which no-one has recorded in all of botanical science. Its overall shape was akin to a rounded tub and it was surmounted by what appeared to be a spiked lid. Wide reddish streaks decorated its lower edge and tapered sharply toward the lid. Were it not for the tight-fitting nature of this lid I would have immediately placed it among the Cypripedioidiae or slipper orchids. But, in truth, I knew at that moment its classification would present challenges I'd not before experienced.

I also knew it must be collected.

Convincing the men that we would be taking this unique plant back with us was no easy task. The width of the bloom itself was only slightly less than our canoe, which the men easily lay down in crosswise when resting. Finally, with promises of more fish-hooks and whatever spirits were left once I had finished jarring up those of my specimens that required it, they agreed to help move the plant to the canoe and down the river.

Once they had decided to help me the men set to work with surprising efficiency. They seemed to take great pride in their ability to fashion crude spades from the trunks of small trees. Soon we were carefully excavating about the plant's roots. We unearthed a considerable number of various animal bones in the process causing the head rower, who enjoyed having Ideas, to conjecture that the spot must be a sacred place for them to retreat to when they feel their natural deaths approaching. I neither supported nor rejected his strange speculation.

The roots of the plant proved to be surprisingly short and penetrated but shallowly into the moist soil which must have been unusually rich there for a plant to achieve such a grand size with such little effort below ground. With some some tugging and pushing we were able to sling and wrap its base in a system of plaited mats and ropes the men fashioned from the leaves and bark of surrounding trees. Three sturdy poles were cut and threaded beneath our amazing bundle and after a brief rest and luncheon we began our slow trek back to our canoe.

It does not take an educated marsupial to realize that having less than half of our allotted hours of daylight left and carrying a cumbersome burden through a trackless jungle, we would not make the river before sunset. True as I predicted, we had not yet even returned to the more clear portion of the trail by the time darkness fell and being so close to the Equator, darkness fell swiftly. The men were more relieved that they could lay down the fragrant burden than concerned about spending the night in an unknown forest. I, too, had become accustomed to some rather primitive camping in my years exploring so we all made ourselves as comfortable as could be asked for and drifted off to sleep.

A Journal of My Excursion up the Rio Tonto, the Discovery of a Remarkable New Species of Flowering Plant and My Final Embarkation Toward a New Home

Following is the first part of an account of my final expedition before taking up residence in Caledon last year at about this time.

7 May
This morning promised a good start to our little excursion and the day itself delivered. The rising sun revealed only high, scattered puffs of cloud and brought a soft breeze which would help the paddlers move us up the river a good distance before nightfall. I had enlisted the help of six strong young men yesterday with the knowledge that if four actually showed up I would be lucky. As it turned out Luck split the difference and five of the men were on hand to load our canoe soon after breakfast.

Hastily but with care I directed the men in stowing our supplies on board the primitive boat, taking aboard my collecting equipment and boxes in my own paws to ensure their safety. Soon all was secured and the men had bid farewell to assorted wives, mistresses and daughters. I long ago gave up trying to sort out the complex familial relationships of this tribe in the same way they have apparently given up trying to understand why an opossum wanted to trade fish hooks for any beetles and butterflies they would catch. That I did not eat their finds apparently surprised them.

With the breeze at our backs and the men only slightly hung over we set out and were soon out of sight of the village. After a few hours of steady progress we went ashore briefly from one of the sandy beaches so the men could rest a bit and I could explore the immediate area. I was a little disappointed but not terribly surprised to find the flora and fauna to be much the same as what surrounded the village. Still, I was able to collect two nice specimens of a bright green butterfly I had not before seen as they sucked on the pulp of a fallen palm fruit.

Following this stop the river soon became broader and slower so, though the men were some fatigued by the morning's paddling we still made very good time. As the sun began to sink below the level of the palms we beached the canoe again and made our camp for the evening. The men caught just enough fish to make a meager supper and then, after stringing up our hammocks we all soon fell asleep.

8 May
We rose with the sun this morning and broke our fast with more fish and a thin but nourishing gruel the natives make from a starchy root found throughout the lowlands. I've long run out of tea but still unpacked the small kettle I carry merely out of habit. None of the local herbal offerings have taken a good Darjeeling's place. When I'm back on civilized shores I will most likely make my way directly to a tea shop even before I begin to unpack! But I digress...

This being only shortly after the end of the wet season the waters of the rivers and creeks have receded to a navigable level but the vegetation still retains a fresh and well-watered appearance. Many orchids and other parasitic plants have burst into bloom. The trees all about but mostly near the river's edge were bedecked as for a May festival. Before loading what supplies we had brought ashore back into the canoe I gathered several of the more showy species, some of which I am confident are new to science.

Once in the water again we made as speedy progress as yesterday. After perhaps two hours we spied on the far bank a party of six or seven natives, presumably hunting as they had a number of longblowguns with them. The men in my employ smiled and raised a hand in greeting to them. Both smile and salute were returned by the hunters who then, retreating but a few steps, were completely concealed by the dense jungle. My companions informed me that the men were of another tribe that shared a border with their own. Relations between the two groups were friendly owing to different preferences in game, though they noted that members of their own tribe and their neighbors did not intermarry.

This stretch of the river differed from what we in had seen thus far in that large dragonflies, the like of which I'd not before seen, were common and often darted past our canoe. To better make use of my time I retrieved my net from the hold, such as it was, and managed to capture a few of at least three species. I was forced, however, to desist from this hunt when the scowls of my men made it clear that my lurching about our small craft was making their job more difficult.