Summary

W. E. Hardenburg The Putumayo, The Devil's Paradise… (1912)

Then I bethought myself to discharge my rifle, but nothing was to be heard in reply except the long-drawn-out echoes. What could I do? I dare not set out in search of him, lest I too be lost, for in these dense solitudes people have perished from starvation and exposure, unaware that they were within a kilometer of a house. I sat there for hours, shouting and firing my rifle at short intervals and was just becoming desperate, when faint in the distance, I thought I heard the dull report of a shotgun.
Source: Wikisource

W. E. Hardenburg The Putumayo, The Devil's Paradise… (1912)

The Indians (as well as many of the "whites") are very superstitious in regard to this bird, and consider its appearance as a good omen. Having shot nothing eatable, we reached a promising looking playa at two o'clock and disembarked in search of some more turtle eggs. We were busily engaged in excavating a nest, when Perkins saw a solitary canoe slowly making its way upstream. Approaching the bank, we hailed the strangers, and they began to steer in our direction. As they came nearer we saw that they were all Indians, except one, who was a well-dressed, elderly white man.
Source: Wikisource

W. E. Hardenburg The Putumayo, The Devil's Paradise… (1912)

The next morning it was as we had expected — the river had kept on rising, and the greater part of the playa was submerged. Making our way to the police detachment, we held a long chat with the officer, gave them a chunk of the smoked danta meat, passed around the aguardiente, and thanking them heartily, took our departure. The swift current took us along rapidly, and soon the scene of our shipwreck faded away in the distance and became but a pleasant memory of the past. Lunching in the canoe at about eleven o'clock, we steadily continued our descent.
Source: Wikisource

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