“SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE.”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17039, 12 May 1923, Page 1 (Supplement)

“SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE.”

ADVENTURES IN UNEXPLORED PERU. Mr G. M. Dyott went to Peru, “where the unexpected always hap-, pens,’’ at the request of the President of that country, with a view to ascertaining the feasibility of aerial transport there. There are remote but exceedingly rich sections of the republic where the railway cannot penetrate for many years to come. Mr Dyott’s book (“ Silent Highways of the Jungle ”) deals almost exclusively with the remote parts of the interior on the eastern slope of the Andes. Within the boundaries of this country are unexplored regions enough to satisfy the most adventurous spirits. It is a story of incredible hardships and privations faced with a stoical fortitude. Nothing daunted. Mr Dyott has again gone to explore the sources of the Peruvian Amazon and J.o map out routes for commercial aeroplanes. IN A WHIRLPOOL. In his preface the author expresses his regret that he lost his camera in a whirlpool. Incidentally, he nearly lost his life in the same whirlpool, and tells the story later on in the book. Mr Dyott and his Indian companions were journeying in a canoe on the Amazon, called ‘ Maranon ” in Peru, when they approached a whirlpool of unusual size, and through an accident were powerless to escape being dragged into it: “ 1 was too intent on the struggle to even think, but I saw everything. A floating log, caught like ourselves in the maelstrom, collided with us, and the end had come. A lip of green water curled over the edge of the canoe, the world spun round, up went our bow in the air, and then packages, paddles and men seemed to fall on* top of me. The gurgling liquid closed in from above, and 1 went spinning down to eternity. SAVED. “ I recall taking one last breath, and holding it for what I thought was a million years; I recall being jostled along the bottom of the river, and be ing bumped up against rocks and other obstructions; I recall a push from below, as if from some giant hand, and then I was shot up to the surface in an upcast current. I had been told that one’s only chance of safety in a really large whirlpool lay in not struggling; at any rate, I let myself go, and it was probably due to that that I disentangled myself so soon.

'The sight of the green banks rushing by put new hope into me, and although I had quite reconciled myself to being drowned 1 struck out and reached the shore after considerable difficulty.” Eventually he found that the res* of the crew had clung to the canoe and been saved, and they resumed their journey. TERROR IN THE FOREST. Later on Mr Dyott was deserted by his men. He lost his way in the forest, and could not find his way to the river. He describes his experiences a* ‘‘ a prolonged nightmare of indescribable magnitude.” His clothes and flesh were torn by the sharp foliage : " After a few hours ] became “absolutely terrified of touching anvthing for fear of incurring further wounds ■ j should a branch happen to be smooth for a change, likely as not there would ! be thousands of ants crawling over it, and they bit and stung like creeping "On one memorable occasion T exnmined a branch minutely before gripping it to help myself over a bad mud-hole such as porsonous reptiles frequently inhabit Seeing that it was free from noth thorns and ants I grasped it confidently to swing myself across. As it bent under my weight a cloud of blackwasps, whose nest \ had not observed at the end of the bough, encircled rav head, and T fell in the very sludge I was trying to avoid. Beating the aii frantically to keep off mv assailants, I scrambled to more solid ground. " A STATE OF FRENZY.” “ Branches flew back in my face blinding me with their blows. My foot got caught m some roots, and to prevent a fail I clutched madly at a creeper that hung like a huge rope from the trees above. With an appalling crash 1 pulled the whole forest aown on top of me—a mass of rotten timber. From under the debris J crawled; the wasps had given up the chase, but ants were running all over and it was some time before I could rid myself of them and collect my distracted senses sufficiently to proceed. What between ants, thorns, wasps, and innumerable other unknown things which bit and scratched, I was being quickly driven into a state of frenzy. “The hour was now’ getting late; my course lay uphill, and it was evident that I could not hope to reach the river without spending at least one night in the forest.” He had lost liis revolver, and had to face the terrors of a jungle night with a small pocket-knife, but daylight returned without a tragedy, and he reached the river. Alas! the banks were impassable. He was forced to remain in the forest, and one night a large jaguar walked over his prostrate form and sat down near by, but the beast did not attack him. At last, after nine days almost without food, a party of savages appeared, and after he had employed friendly tactics one of them offered him a toasted banana, for which the author excbenged a tattered handkerchief. These savages took him to their village, and treated him kindlv : but not onlv that, they recovered? bis nossessions, abandoned in the forest by his Mr Pvotf rives a remarkable account of bis life with these savages. TTor-n ic a story which lie has written to dlus+-ate their marriage customs : “ A+asbu. a prosperous warrior, has just bad the good fortune of having an old sister thrown baok on. his hands

through the death of her husband, and is quick to take advantage of the situation to improve his own position. Near by lives Papingy, an older man, who has a son of marriageable age, to say nothing of a young unmarried daughter. One afternoon Atashu pays a visit to his friend, and after a good drink of masala remarks—in rather an off-hand way—that he would like to take his host’s daughter into his own establishment. ‘ I am quite prepared,’ he adds, ‘ to give you my old sister in return.’ “‘What!’ says the old man, ‘your sister in return for my daughter—not a bit of it! ’ ” “ A BIT LONG IN THE TOOTH.” But Atashu is quite prepared for this, and, gazing in any direction other than that of the man he is talking to, continues unabashed : “ ‘ Of course, I know she is a bit lor«£ in the tooth, but she is a marvel of domestic virtue—you don’t know how big and strong she is. Why, she cuts bananas wonderfully ! and you should just see her pull up yucas I I tell you she works better than anyone else in my household and would make an ideal wife for your “ Papingly listens attentively to the discourse, and turns the matter over in his mind in silence; he probably makes a rough calculation—the woman is twenty-seven years old, that means twelve more years of useful life at the most, three or four children might be expected—no, it is not such a bad idea : a capable woman for his son would be an asset to the household, but he is not altogether convinced, and needs further persuading.” BUYING A PIG IN A POKE. After a long pause Atashu starts afresh on a new track : “ ‘That daughter of yours,’ he says scornfully, ‘is very young, she may die; how do I know what she will develop into? It is like buying a pig in a poke. Heaven only knows what will happen to her ive years from now. I am really taking a terrible risk in letting my sister go at all.’ Then, changing his tone, he continues: ‘My eldest wife will soon be dead : T need a little new blood in the family, someone young to replace her, so 1 am willing to take a chance.’ “ ‘ All right,’ answers Papingly, dispassionately, and in a dreary voice adds, ‘ Bring your old sister round here and we will settle the bargain.’ So the matter is disposed of, and the son takes unto himself a wife —the strong lady who digs yucas and cuts bananas better than anyone else in the brown society of the Aguaruna world—and Papingy’s daughter is initiated into the mysteries of Atashu’s establishment.”