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his mule from hour to hour,
and of seeing that his knees do not get themselves jammed against the
trees; but at every step the beast he rides has to drag his legs out from
the deep clinging mud, and the body of the rider never knows one

moment of ease. Why the mules do not die on the road, I cannot say.
They live through it, and do not appear to suffer. They have their own
way in everything, for no exertion on the rider's part will make them
walk either faster or slower than is their wont.
On the day on which they entered the forest,--that being the second of
their journey,--Mrs. Arkwright had asked for mercy, for permission to
escape that second stage. On the next she allowed herself to be lifted
into her saddle after her mid-day rest without a word. She had tried to
sleep, but in vain; and had sat within a little hut, looking out upon the
desolate scene before her, with her baby in her lap. She had this one
comfort, that of all the travellers, she, the baby, suffered the least. They
had now left the high grounds, and the heat was becoming great,
though not as yet intense. And then, the Indian guide, looking out
slowly over the forest, saw that the rain was not yet over. He spoke a
word or two to one of his companions in a low voice and in a patois
which Mrs. Arkwright did not understand, and then going after the
husband, told him that the heavens were threatening.
"We have only two leagues," said Arkwright, "and it may perhaps hold
up."
"It will begin in an hour," said the Indian, "and the two leagues are four
hours."
"And to-morrow," asked Arkwright.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow it will still rain," said the
guide, looking as he spoke up over the huge primeval forest.
"Then we had better start at once," said Arkwright, "before the first
falling drops frighten the women." So the mules were brought out, and
he lifted his uncomplaining wife on to the blankets which formed her
pillion. The file again formed itself, and slowly they wound their way
out from the small enclosure by which the hut was surrounded;--out
from the enclosure on to a rough scrap of undrained pasture ground
from which the trees had been cleared. In a few minutes they were once
more struggling through the mud.
The name of the spot which our travellers had just left is Carablanco.
There they found a woman living all alone. Her husband was away, she
told them, at San Jose, but would be back to her when the dry weather
came, to look up the young cattle which were straying in the forest.
What a life for a woman! Nevertheless, in talking with Mrs. Arkwright

she made no complaint of her own lot, but had done what little she
could to comfort the poor lady who was so little able to bear the
fatigues of her journey.
"Is the road very bad?" Mrs. Arkwright asked her in a whisper.
"Ah, yes; it is a bad road."
"And when shall we be at the river?"
"It took me four days," said the woman.
"Then I shall never see my mother again," and as she spoke Mrs.
Arkwright pressed her baby to her bosom. Immediately after that her
husband came in, and they started.
Their path now led away across the slope of a mountain which seemed
to fall from the very top of that central ridge in an unbroken descent
down to the valley at its foot. Hitherto, since they had entered the forest,
they had had nothing before their eyes but the trees and bushes which
grew close around them. But now a prospect of unrivalled grandeur
was opened before them, if only had they been able to enjoy it. At the
bottom of the valley ran a river, which, so great was the depth, looked
like a moving silver cord; and on the other side of this there arose
another mountain, steep but unbroken like that which they were
passing,--unbroken, so that the eye could stretch from the river up to
the very summit. Not a spot on that mountain side or on their side
either was left uncovered by thick forest, which had stood there
untouched by man since nature first produced it.
But all this was nothing to our travellers, nor was the clang of the
macaws anything, or the roaring of the little congo ape. Nothing was
gained by them from beautiful scenery, nor was there any fear from the
beasts of prey. The immediate pain of each step of the journey drove all
other feelings from them, and their thoughts were bounded by an
intense desire