"Tomorrow We Disappear into the Unknown"

I will not bore those whom this narrative may reach by an account of our luxurious voyage upon the Booth liner, nor will I tell of our week's stay at Para (save that I should wish to acknowledge the great kindness of the Pereira da Pinta Company in helping us to get together our equipment). I will also allude very briefly to our river journey, up a wide, slow-moving, clay-tinted stream, in a steamer which was little smaller than that which had carried us across the Atlantic. Eventually we found ourselves through the narrows of Obidos and reached the town of Manaos. Here we were rescued from the limited attractions of the local inn by Mr. Shortman, the representative of the British and Brazilian Trading Company. In his hospitable Fazenda we spent our time until the day when we were empowered to open the letter of instructions given to us by Professor Challenger. Before I reach the surprising events of that date I would desire to give a clearer sketch of my comrades in this enterprise, and of the associates whom we had already gathered together in South America. I speak freely, and I leave the use of my material to your own discretion, Mr. McArdle, since it is through your hands that this report must pass before it reaches the world.

I will not bore readers with an account of our luxurious voyage on the Booth liner. Nor will I describe our week in Para. I do, however, want to acknowledge the great kindness of the Pereira da Pinta Company in helping us gather our equipment. I will also say very little about our river journey. We traveled up a wide, slow-moving, clay-colored river on a steamer only slightly smaller than the one that had carried us across the Atlantic. Eventually, we passed through the narrows of Obidos and reached the town of Manaos. There, Mr. Shortman, the representative of the British and Brazilian Trading Company, rescued us from the limited attractions of the local inn. We stayed at his hospitable Fazenda until the day we were allowed to open Professor Challenger's letter of instructions. Before I come to the surprising events of that day, I want to describe my companions on this expedition more clearly. I also want to describe the associates we had already gathered in South America. I speak freely and leave you to decide how to use my material, Mr. McArdle. After all, this report must pass through your hands before it reaches the world.

The scientific attainments of Professor Summerlee are too well known for me to trouble to recapitulate them. He is better equipped for a rough expedition of this sort than one would imagine at first sight. His tall, gaunt, stringy figure is insensible to fatigue, and his dry, half-sarcastic, and often wholly unsympathetic manner is uninfluenced by any change in his surroundings. Though in his sixty-sixth year, I have never heard him express any dissatisfaction at the occasional hardships which we have had to encounter. I had regarded his presence as an encumbrance to the expedition, but, as a matter of fact, I am now well convinced that his power of endurance is as great as my own. In temper he is naturally acid and sceptical. From the beginning he has never concealed his belief that Professor Challenger is an absolute fraud, that we are all embarked upon an absurd wild-goose chase and that we are likely to reap nothing but disappointment and danger in South America, and corresponding ridicule in England. Such are the views which, with much passionate distortion of his thin features and wagging of his thin, goat-like beard, he poured into our ears all the way from Southampton to Manaos. Since landing from the boat he has obtained some consolation from the beauty and variety of the insect and bird life around him, for he is absolutely whole-hearted in his devotion to science. He spends his days flitting through the woods with his shot-gun and his butterfly-net, and his evenings in mounting the many specimens he has acquired. Among his minor peculiarities are that he is careless as to his attire, unclean in his person, exceedingly absent-minded in his habits, and addicted to smoking a short briar pipe, which is seldom out of his mouth. He has been upon several scientific expeditions in his youth (he was with Robertson in Papua), and the life of the camp and the canoe is nothing fresh to him.

Professor Summerlee’s scientific achievements are too well known for me to bother listing them. He is better suited to a rough expedition like this than one might think at first sight. His tall, lean, wiry frame seems immune to fatigue. His manner is dry, somewhat sarcastic, and often completely unsympathetic, no matter where he is. Though he is in his sixty-sixth year, I have never heard him complain about the occasional hardships we have faced. I had thought he would be a burden to the expedition. But I am now convinced that his endurance is as great as my own. By nature, he is sharp-tempered and skeptical. From the beginning, he has made no secret of his belief that Professor Challenger is a complete fraud. He believes we are all on an absurd wild-goose chase. He expects us to find nothing but disappointment and danger in South America, followed by ridicule in England. He poured these views into our ears all the way from Southampton to Manaos. As he spoke, he passionately twisted his thin features and wagged his thin, goat-like beard. Since leaving the boat, he has found some comfort in the beauty and variety of the insects and birds around him. He is completely devoted to science. He spends his days darting through the woods with his shotgun and butterfly net. In the evenings, he mounts the many specimens he has collected. Among his lesser quirks, he pays no attention to his clothes, is personally unclean, and is extremely absent-minded. He is also addicted to smoking a short briar pipe, which is seldom out of his mouth. He went on several scientific expeditions in his youth, including one with Robertson in Papua. Life in camps and canoes is nothing new to him.

Lord John Roxton has some points in common with Professor Summerlee, and others in which they are the very antithesis to each other. He is twenty years younger, but has something of the same spare, scraggy physique. As to his appearance, I have, as I recollect, described it in that portion of my narrative which I have left behind me in London. He is exceedingly neat and prim in his ways, dresses always with great care in white drill suits and high brown mosquito-boots, and shaves at least once a day. Like most men of action, he is laconic in speech, and sinks readily into his own thoughts, but he is always quick to answer a question or join in a conversation, talking in a queer, jerky, half-humorous fashion. His knowledge of the world, and very especially of South America, is surprising, and he has a whole-hearted belief in the possibilities of our journey which is not to be dashed by the sneers of Professor Summerlee. He has a gentle voice and a quiet manner, but behind his twinkling blue eyes there lurks a capacity for furious wrath and implacable resolution, the more dangerous because they are held in leash. He spoke little of his own exploits in Brazil and Peru, but it was a revelation to me to find the excitement which was caused by his presence among the riverine natives, who looked upon him as their champion and protector. The exploits of the Red Chief, as they called him, had become legends among them, but the real facts, as far as I could learn them, were amazing enough.

Lord John Roxton has some things in common with Professor Summerlee, but in other ways they are complete opposites. He is twenty years younger, but has a similarly lean, skinny build. I believe I described his appearance in the part of my account that I left behind in London. He is extremely neat and proper in his habits. He always dresses with great care in white drill suits and tall brown mosquito boots, and shaves at least once a day. Like most men of action, he says little and easily becomes lost in thought. But he is always quick to answer a question or join a conversation. He speaks in an odd, jerky, half-humorous way. His knowledge of the world, especially South America, is surprising. He believes wholeheartedly in the possibilities of our journey, and Professor Summerlee's sneers cannot shake that belief. He has a gentle voice and a quiet manner. But behind his twinkling blue eyes lies a capacity for furious anger and unyielding determination. These qualities are all the more dangerous because he keeps them under control. He spoke little of his own exploits in Brazil and Peru. But I was astonished by the excitement his presence caused among the natives along the rivers. They saw him as their champion and protector. The exploits of the Red Chief, as they called him, had become legends among them. But the real facts, as far as I could learn them, were amazing enough.

These were that Lord John had found himself some years before in that no-man's-land which is formed by the half-defined frontiers between Peru, Brazil, and Columbia. In this great district the wild rubber tree flourishes, and has become, as in the Congo, a curse to the natives which can only be compared to their forced labor under the Spaniards upon the old silver mines of Darien. A handful of villainous half-breeds dominated the country, armed such Indians as would support them, and turned the rest into slaves, terrorizing them with the most inhuman tortures in order to force them to gather the india-rubber, which was then floated down the river to Para. Lord John Roxton expostulated on behalf of the wretched victims, and received nothing but threats and insults for his pains. He then formally declared war against Pedro Lopez, the leader of the slave-drivers, enrolled a band of runaway slaves in his service, armed them, and conducted a campaign, which ended by his killing with his own hands the notorious half-breed and breaking down the system which he represented.

These were the facts. Some years earlier, Lord John had found himself in the no-man's-land along the poorly defined borders of Peru, Brazil, and Columbia. Wild rubber trees flourish throughout this vast region. As in the Congo, they have become a curse to the natives. Their suffering can only be compared to their forced labor under the Spaniards in the old silver mines of Darien. A handful of villainous half-breeds controlled the country. They armed the Indians willing to support them and made the rest slaves. They terrorized these slaves with the most inhuman torture, forcing them to gather rubber. The rubber was then floated down the river to Para. Lord John Roxton protested on behalf of the wretched victims, but received only threats and insults for his trouble. He then formally declared war on Pedro Lopez, the leader of the slave-drivers. Lord John recruited a band of runaway slaves, armed them, and led a campaign. It ended with his killing the notorious half-breed with his own hands and breaking down the system Lopez represented.

No wonder that the ginger-headed man with the silky voice and the free and easy manners was now looked upon with deep interest upon the banks of the great South American river, though the feelings he inspired were naturally mixed, since the gratitude of the natives was equaled by the resentment of those who desired to exploit them. One useful result of his former experiences was that he could talk fluently in the Lingoa Geral, which is the peculiar talk, one-third Portuguese and two-thirds Indian, which is current all over Brazil.

It was no wonder that the red-haired man with the silky voice and easygoing manners attracted great interest along the great South American river. But the feelings he inspired were naturally mixed. The natives’ gratitude was matched by the resentment of those who wanted to exploit them. One useful result of his earlier experiences was that he could speak Lingoa Geral fluently. This distinctive language is spoken throughout Brazil and is one-third Portuguese and two-thirds Indian.

I have said before that Lord John Roxton was a South Americomaniac. He could not speak of that great country without ardor, and this ardor was infectious, for, ignorant as I was, he fixed my attention and stimulated my curiosity. How I wish I could reproduce the glamour of his discourses, the peculiar mixture of accurate knowledge and of racy imagination which gave them their fascination, until even the Professor's cynical and sceptical smile would gradually vanish from his thin face as he listened. He would tell the history of the mighty river so rapidly explored (for some of the first conquerors of Peru actually crossed the entire continent upon its waters), and yet so unknown in regard to all that lay behind its ever-changing banks.

I have said before that Lord John Roxton was a South Americomaniac. He could not speak of that great country without passion, and his passion was contagious. Though I knew little about it, he held my attention and stirred my curiosity. How I wish I could recreate the magic of his talks! Their fascination came from a special mix of precise knowledge and lively imagination. As he spoke, even the Professor's cynical, skeptical smile would slowly fade from his thin face. Lord John would tell the history of the mighty river, which was explored so quickly. Some of the first conquerors of Peru actually crossed the entire continent on its waters. Yet so little was known about everything beyond its ever-changing banks.

"What is there?" he would cry, pointing to the north. "Wood and marsh and unpenetrated jungle. Who knows what it may shelter? And there to the south? A wilderness of swampy forest, where no white man has ever been. The unknown is up against us on every side. Outside the narrow lines of the rivers what does anyone know? Who will say what is possible in such a country? Why should old man Challenger not be right?" At which direct defiance the stubborn sneer would reappear upon Professor Summerlee's face, and he would sit, shaking his sardonic head in unsympathetic silence, behind the cloud of his briar-root pipe.

"What is there?" he would cry, pointing north. "Woods, marshes, and unexplored jungle. Who knows what might be hiding there? And what about the south? A wilderness of swampy forest where no white man has ever been. The unknown surrounds us on every side. What does anyone know beyond the narrow paths of the rivers? Who can say what is possible in such a country? Why shouldn't old man Challenger be right?" At this direct challenge, the stubborn sneer would return to Professor Summerlee's face. He would sit behind the cloud from his briar-root pipe, shaking his head mockingly and saying nothing.

So much, for the moment, for my two white companions, whose characters and limitations will be further exposed, as surely as my own, as this narrative proceeds. But already we have enrolled certain retainers who may play no small part in what is to come. The first is a gigantic negro named Zambo, who is a black Hercules, as willing as any horse, and about as intelligent. Him we enlisted at Para, on the recommendation of the steamship company, on whose vessels he had learned to speak a halting English.

That is enough about my two white companions for now. Their characters and limitations will become clearer as this story goes on, just as mine will. But we have already hired some helpers who may play a significant part in what lies ahead. The first is a gigantic Black man named Zambo. He is a Black Hercules, as willing as any horse and about as intelligent. We hired him in Para on the recommendation of the steamship company. He had learned to speak halting English aboard its ships.

It was at Para also that we engaged Gomez and Manuel, two half-breeds from up the river, just come down with a cargo of redwood. They were swarthy fellows, bearded and fierce, as active and wiry as panthers. Both of them had spent their lives in those upper waters of the Amazon which we were about to explore, and it was this recommendation which had caused Lord John to engage them. One of them, Gomez, had the further advantage that he could speak excellent English. These men were willing to act as our personal servants, to cook, to row, or to make themselves useful in any way at a payment of fifteen dollars a month. Besides these, we had engaged three Mojo Indians from Bolivia, who are the most skilful at fishing and boat work of all the river tribes. The chief of these we called Mojo, after his tribe, and the others are known as Jose and Fernando. Three white men, then, two half-breeds, one negro, and three Indians made up the personnel of the little expedition which lay waiting for its instructions at Manaos before starting upon its singular quest.

It was also at Para that we hired Gomez and Manuel, two mixed-race men from upriver. They had just come down with a cargo of redwood. They were dark-skinned, bearded, and fierce, as quick and wiry as panthers. Both had spent their lives in the upper waters of the Amazon, which we were about to explore. Lord John hired them because of that experience. Gomez had the added advantage of speaking excellent English. They were willing to be our personal servants, cook, row, or help in any way, for fifteen dollars a month. We had also hired three Mojo Indians from Bolivia. Of all the river tribes, they were the most skilled at fishing and handling boats. We called their chief Mojo, after his tribe. The others were known as Jose and Fernando. Our small expedition consisted of three white men, two mixed-race men, one Black man, and three Indians. We waited at Manaos for instructions before setting out on our strange quest.

At last, after a weary week, the day had come and the hour. I ask you to picture the shaded sitting-room of the Fazenda St. Ignatio, two miles inland from the town of Manaos. Outside lay the yellow, brassy glare of the sunshine, with the shadows of the palm trees as black and definite as the trees themselves. The air was calm, full of the eternal hum of insects, a tropical chorus of many octaves, from the deep drone of the bee to the high, keen pipe of the mosquito. Beyond the veranda was a small cleared garden, bounded with cactus hedges and adorned with clumps of flowering shrubs, round which the great blue butterflies and the tiny humming-birds fluttered and darted in crescents of sparkling light. Within we were seated round the cane table, on which lay a sealed envelope. Inscribed upon it, in the jagged handwriting of Professor Challenger, were the words:—

At last, after a tiring week, the day and hour had come. Picture the shaded sitting room of the Fazenda St. Ignatio, two miles inland from the town of Manaos. Outside, the sunshine shone with a yellow, brassy glare. The palm tree shadows were as black and sharply defined as the trees themselves. The air was still and full of the constant hum of insects. Their tropical chorus ranged across many octaves, from the deep drone of the bee to the high, piercing whine of the mosquito. Beyond the veranda was a small cleared garden, bordered by cactus hedges and decorated with clusters of flowering shrubs. Great blue butterflies and tiny hummingbirds fluttered and darted around the shrubs in crescents of sparkling light. Inside, we sat around the cane table, on which lay a sealed envelope. On it, in Professor Challenger's jagged handwriting, were the words:

"Instructions to Lord John Roxton and party. To be opened at Manaos upon July 15th, at 12 o'clock precisely."

"Instructions for Lord John Roxton and his party. Open in Manaos on July 15th at exactly 12 o'clock."

Lord John had placed his watch upon the table beside him.

Lord John had put his watch on the table beside him.

"We have seven more minutes," said he. "The old dear is very precise."

"We have seven more minutes," he said. "The old dear is very precise."

Professor Summerlee gave an acid smile as he picked up the envelope in his gaunt hand.

Professor Summerlee smiled sourly as he picked up the envelope in his thin hand.

"What can it possibly matter whether we open it now or in seven minutes?" said he. "It is all part and parcel of the same system of quackery and nonsense, for which I regret to say that the writer is notorious."

"What difference could it possibly make whether we open it now or in seven minutes?" he said. "It's all part of the same system of fraud and nonsense. I'm sorry to say the writer is notorious for it."

"Oh, come, we must play the game accordin' to rules," said Lord John. "It's old man Challenger's show and we are here by his good will, so it would be rotten bad form if we didn't follow his instructions to the letter."

"Oh, come on, we must play by the rules," said Lord John. "It's old man Challenger's show, and we're here because he invited us. So it would be really bad manners not to follow his instructions exactly."

"A pretty business it is!" cried the Professor, bitterly. "It struck me as preposterous in London, but I'm bound to say that it seems even more so upon closer acquaintance. I don't know what is inside this envelope, but, unless it is something pretty definite, I shall be much tempted to take the next down-river boat and catch the Bolivia at Para. After all, I have some more responsible work in the world than to run about disproving the assertions of a lunatic. Now, Roxton, surely it is time."

"What a mess!" cried the Professor bitterly. "It seemed absurd to me in London, but I must say it seems even more absurd now that I've seen it up close. I don't know what's inside this envelope. But unless it's something quite definite, I'll be very tempted to take the next boat downriver and catch the Bolivia at Para. After all, I have more important work to do than run around disproving a lunatic's claims. Now, Roxton, surely it's time."

"Time it is," said Lord John. "You can blow the whistle." He took up the envelope and cut it with his penknife. From it he drew a folded sheet of paper. This he carefully opened out and flattened on the table. It was a blank sheet. He turned it over. Again it was blank. We looked at each other in a bewildered silence, which was broken by a discordant burst of derisive laughter from Professor Summerlee.

"It is time," said Lord John. "You can blow the whistle." He picked up the envelope and cut it open with his penknife. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He carefully unfolded it and smoothed it out on the table. The sheet was blank. He turned it over. That side was blank too. We looked at each other in bewildered silence. Then Professor Summerlee broke the silence with a harsh burst of mocking laughter.

"It is an open admission," he cried. "What more do you want? The fellow is a self-confessed humbug. We have only to return home and report him as the brazen imposter that he is."

"He's admitted it openly," he cried. "What more do you want? The man admits he's a fraud. We just have to go home and report him for the shameless imposter he is."

"Invisible ink!" I suggested.

"Invisible ink!" I suggested.

"I don't think!" said Lord Roxton, holding the paper to the light. "No, young fellah my lad, there is no use deceiving yourself. I'll go bail for it that nothing has ever been written upon this paper."

"I don't think so!" said Lord Roxton, holding the paper up to the light. "No, young man, there's no point deceiving yourself. I'd bet nothing has ever been written on this paper."

"May I come in?" boomed a voice from the veranda.

"Can I come in?" boomed a voice from the veranda.

The shadow of a squat figure had stolen across the patch of sunlight. That voice! That monstrous breadth of shoulder! We sprang to our feet with a gasp of astonishment as Challenger, in a round, boyish straw-hat with a colored ribbon—Challenger, with his hands in his jacket-pockets and his canvas shoes daintily pointing as he walked—appeared in the open space before us. He threw back his head, and there he stood in the golden glow with all his old Assyrian luxuriance of beard, all his native insolence of drooping eyelids and intolerant eyes.

The shadow of a short, broad figure crept across the patch of sunlight. That voice! Those monstrously broad shoulders! We sprang to our feet, gasping in astonishment, as Challenger appeared in the open space before us. He wore a round, boyish straw hat with a colored ribbon. His hands were in his jacket pockets, and his canvas shoes pointed delicately as he walked. He threw back his head and stood there in the golden light. His beard was as full and Assyrian as ever. His drooping eyelids and intolerant eyes showed all his usual insolence.

"I fear," said he, taking out his watch, "that I am a few minutes too late. When I gave you this envelope I must confess that I had never intended that you should open it, for it had been my fixed intention to be with you before the hour. The unfortunate delay can be apportioned between a blundering pilot and an intrusive sandbank. I fear that it has given my colleague, Professor Summerlee, occasion to blaspheme."

"I'm afraid," he said, taking out his watch, "that I'm a few minutes late. I must admit that when I gave you this envelope, I never intended you to open it. I was determined to be with you before the appointed time. A blundering pilot and an inconvenient sandbank are both to blame for the delay. I'm afraid the delay has given my colleague, Professor Summerlee, reason to swear."

"I am bound to say, sir," said Lord John, with some sternness of voice, "that your turning up is a considerable relief to us, for our mission seemed to have come to a premature end. Even now I can't for the life of me understand why you should have worked it in so extraordinary a manner."

"I have to say, sir," said Lord John sternly, "your arrival is a great relief to us. Our mission seemed to have ended too soon. Even now, I can't understand why you handled it in such an extraordinary way."

Instead of answering, Professor Challenger entered, shook hands with myself and Lord John, bowed with ponderous insolence to Professor Summerlee, and sank back into a basket-chair, which creaked and swayed beneath his weight.

Instead of answering, Professor Challenger came in and shook hands with Lord John and me. He bowed with heavy arrogance to Professor Summerlee and sank into a wicker chair. It creaked and swayed under his weight.

"Is all ready for your journey?" he asked.

"Is everything ready for your journey?" he asked.

"We can start to-morrow."

"We can start tomorrow."

"Then so you shall. You need no chart of directions now, since you will have the inestimable advantage of my own guidance. From the first I had determined that I would myself preside over your investigation. The most elaborate charts would, as you will readily admit, be a poor substitute for my own intelligence and advice. As to the small ruse which I played upon you in the matter of the envelope, it is clear that, had I told you all my intentions, I should have been forced to resist unwelcome pressure to travel out with you."

"Then you shall. You no longer need a map of directions, since you will have the invaluable benefit of my own guidance. From the beginning, I had decided to oversee your investigation myself. As you will readily admit, even the most detailed maps would be a poor substitute for my intelligence and advice. As for the little trick I played on you with the envelope, the reason is clear. If I had told you all my plans, I would have had to resist unwelcome pressure to travel with you."

"Not from me, sir!" exclaimed Professor Summerlee, heartily. "So long as there was another ship upon the Atlantic."

"Not from me, sir!" Professor Summerlee exclaimed warmly. "Not as long as there was another ship on the Atlantic."

Challenger waved him away with his great hairy hand.

Challenger waved him away with his big, hairy hand.

"Your common sense will, I am sure, sustain my objection and realize that it was better that I should direct my own movements and appear only at the exact moment when my presence was needed. That moment has now arrived. You are in safe hands. You will not now fail to reach your destination. From henceforth I take command of this expedition, and I must ask you to complete your preparations to-night, so that we may be able to make an early start in the morning. My time is of value, and the same thing may be said, no doubt, in a lesser degree of your own. I propose, therefore, that we push on as rapidly as possible, until I have demonstrated what you have come to see."

"I'm sure your common sense will support my objection. You'll see that it was better for me to direct my own movements and appear only when I was needed. That moment has now arrived. You are in safe hands. You can now be sure of reaching your destination. From now on, I am taking command of this expedition. I must ask you to finish your preparations tonight so we can start early in the morning. My time is valuable, and no doubt yours is too, though less so. I therefore propose that we press on as quickly as possible until I have shown you what you came to see."

Lord John Roxton has chartered a large steam launch, the Esmeralda, which was to carry us up the river. So far as climate goes, it was immaterial what time we chose for our expedition, as the temperature ranges from seventy-five to ninety degrees both summer and winter, with no appreciable difference in heat. In moisture, however, it is otherwise; from December to May is the period of the rains, and during this time the river slowly rises until it attains a height of nearly forty feet above its low-water mark. It floods the banks, extends in great lagoons over a monstrous waste of country, and forms a huge district, called locally the Gapo, which is for the most part too marshy for foot-travel and too shallow for boating. About June the waters begin to fall, and are at their lowest at October or November. Thus our expedition was at the time of the dry season, when the great river and its tributaries were more or less in a normal condition.

Lord John Roxton has chartered a large steam launch, the Esmeralda, to carry us upriver. As far as climate was concerned, it did not matter when we chose to make our expedition. The temperature ranges from seventy-five to ninety degrees in both summer and winter, with no noticeable difference in heat. Rainfall, however, is another matter. The rainy season lasts from December to May. During that time, the river slowly rises to nearly forty feet above its low-water mark. It floods its banks and spreads into great lagoons over a vast stretch of land. This creates a huge region known locally as the Gapo. Most of it is too marshy to cross on foot and too shallow for boats. Around June, the waters begin to fall, reaching their lowest point in October or November. Our expedition therefore took place during the dry season, when the great river and its tributaries were more or less normal.

The current of the river is a slight one, the drop being not greater than eight inches in a mile. No stream could be more convenient for navigation, since the prevailing wind is south-east, and sailing boats may make a continuous progress to the Peruvian frontier, dropping down again with the current. In our own case the excellent engines of the Esmeralda could disregard the sluggish flow of the stream, and we made as rapid progress as if we were navigating a stagnant lake. For three days we steamed north-westwards up a stream which even here, a thousand miles from its mouth, was still so enormous that from its center the two banks were mere shadows upon the distant skyline. On the fourth day after leaving Manaos we turned into a tributary which at its mouth was little smaller than the main stream. It narrowed rapidly, however, and after two more days' steaming we reached an Indian village, where the Professor insisted that we should land, and that the Esmeralda should be sent back to Manaos. We should soon come upon rapids, he explained, which would make its further use impossible. He added privately that we were now approaching the door of the unknown country, and that the fewer whom we took into our confidence the better it would be. To this end also he made each of us give our word of honor that we would publish or say nothing which would give any exact clue as to the whereabouts of our travels, while the servants were all solemnly sworn to the same effect. It is for this reason that I am compelled to be vague in my narrative, and I would warn my readers that in any map or diagram which I may give the relation of places to each other may be correct, but the points of the compass are carefully confused, so that in no way can it be taken as an actual guide to the country. Professor Challenger's reasons for secrecy may be valid or not, but we had no choice but to adopt them, for he was prepared to abandon the whole expedition rather than modify the conditions upon which he would guide us.

The river’s current is slight, dropping no more than eight inches per mile. No river could be more convenient for navigation. The prevailing wind blows from the southeast, allowing sailing boats to travel steadily to the Peruvian frontier. They can then drift back down with the current. In our case, the Esmeralda’s excellent engines could ignore the sluggish current. We made progress as quickly as if we were crossing a still lake. For three days we steamed northwest up the river. Even here, a thousand miles from its mouth, the river was enormous. From its center, both banks were mere shadows on the distant horizon. On the fourth day after leaving Manaos, we turned into a tributary. At its mouth, it was little smaller than the main river. But it narrowed rapidly, and after two more days of steaming, we reached an Indian village. There the Professor insisted that we land and send the Esmeralda back to Manaos. We would soon reach rapids, he explained, which would make it impossible to use the boat any farther. He added privately that we were now approaching the entrance to the unknown country. The fewer people we took into our confidence, the better. For the same reason, he made each of us give our word of honor. We promised not to publish or say anything that would reveal exactly where we had traveled. All the servants were also solemnly sworn to the same promise. That is why I must be vague in my account. I must warn my readers that any map or diagram I provide may show places correctly in relation to one another. But the compass directions are deliberately confused, so it cannot serve as an actual guide to the country. Professor Challenger’s reasons for secrecy may or may not be valid. But we had no choice but to accept them. He was prepared to abandon the entire expedition rather than change the conditions on which he would guide us.

It was August 2nd when we snapped our last link with the outer world by bidding farewell to the Esmeralda. Since then four days have passed, during which we have engaged two large canoes from the Indians, made of so light a material (skins over a bamboo framework) that we should be able to carry them round any obstacle. These we have loaded with all our effects, and have engaged two additional Indians to help us in the navigation. I understand that they are the very two—Ataca and Ipetu by name—who accompanied Professor Challenger upon his previous journey. They appeared to be terrified at the prospect of repeating it, but the chief has patriarchal powers in these countries, and if the bargain is good in his eyes the clansman has little choice in the matter.

On August 2nd, we severed our last link with the outside world by saying goodbye to the Esmeralda. Four days have passed since then. During that time, we hired two large canoes from the Indians. They were made of skins stretched over bamboo frames, light enough for us to carry around any obstacle. We loaded them with all our belongings and hired two more Indians to help us navigate. I understand that they are the very two who accompanied Professor Challenger on his previous journey. Their names are Ataca and Ipetu. They seemed terrified at the prospect of making the journey again. But chiefs in these countries have authority like that of a father over his family. If the chief approves of a bargain, a clansman has little choice in the matter.

So to-morrow we disappear into the unknown. This account I am transmitting down the river by canoe, and it may be our last word to those who are interested in our fate. I have, according to our arrangement, addressed it to you, my dear Mr. McArdle, and I leave it to your discretion to delete, alter, or do what you like with it. From the assurance of Professor Challenger's manner—and in spite of the continued scepticism of Professor Summerlee—I have no doubt that our leader will make good his statement, and that we are really on the eve of some most remarkable experiences.

So tomorrow we disappear into the unknown. I am sending this account down the river by canoe. It may be our last word to those interested in our fate. As agreed, I have addressed it to you, my dear Mr. McArdle. I leave it to you to delete, change, or do whatever you like with it. Professor Challenger seems confident, despite Professor Summerlee’s continued skepticism. I have no doubt that our leader will prove his claim. I also believe we are on the eve of some truly remarkable experiences.