Lost in the Wilds of Brazil. Foster James H.

the unknown.

      That afternoon Professor Bigelow, a noted anthropologist who was to be a part of the expedition, arrived at Mr. Holton’s home, where he was to remain until the expedition would leave. He was a rather small man, with heavy gray hair and a swarthy complexion that the boys rightly guessed was due to his many missions into strange lands to study primitive people. He at once took a great liking to the youths, and together they discussed many strange happenings, which the professor related in breath-taking tales. He told of adventures in darkest Africa, where many little-known clans of natives were studied. He thrilled his listeners with stories of narrow escapes from the Dyaks of Borneo, of journeys into Ecuador to investigate the savage head-shrinkers, into India, Mongolia, Venezuela, islands of the South Seas, and many other strange places. Yes, it was a great life – that pursued by an anthropologist.

      “Two more things I’d like to know,” said Bob, the next afternoon. “First, what food will we take along?”

      “That is all arranged,” his father replied. “A company in New York packed our provisions in light tin containers that are airtight and will float on water. You don’t need to worry about our having enough, for we took into consideration the possibility of a long, unexpected delay. What’s your other question?”

      “This: Where do we sail from, New York? And on what ship?”

      Mr. Holton gasped in astonishment.

      “What!” he cried. “You don’t know that yet? I thought we discussed that matter several days ago.”

      “If you did, I wasn’t there,” Bob returned, grinning. “We’ve been so busy with preparations that I haven’t given it a thought.”

      “All right, I’ll tell you. We sail from New York on the steamer Empire, a vessel of ten thousand tons. It is scheduled to arrive in Macapá, which is several miles inland on the Amazon, in twelve days. Fairly good time, considering a stop at the West Indies.”

      At frequent intervals Mrs. Holton and Mrs. Lewis expressed the desire for their sons to give up the thought of accompanying the expedition, but the boys did their best to convince their mothers that, while there were dangers attached, they were not as numerous as one might think.

      “Come to think of it, you can’t blame them, though,” said Joe. “We’re rather inexperienced in the art of exploring.”

      “We’ll come through all right,” Bob assured him. “Oh! How I wish the time would pass quicker!”

      Despite Bob’s desire, the great day of leaving took its time in coming. But when it did arrive, everyone was in readiness.

      “Weather’s cool and the sky’s clear,” observed Joe, as he and Bob lugged their belongings out to the front porch of Bob’s home, where the members of both households were to gather before the party would leave.

      “Just the right temperature,” declared Mr. Holton, who had moved up in time to hear his son’s chum.

      The train was to leave for New York at ten o’clock and the party barely had time to get breakfast and prepare themselves and their possessions, which, by the way, included the motion-picture cameras and several thousand feet of film, sent ahead by the Neuman Film Corporation.

      Bob and Joe – and the others to a less degree – had studied the instructions on how to take motion pictures and felt that it would be an easy matter to carry them out.

      Shortly after breakfast Mrs. Holton and Mrs. Lewis drove the family cars out in front, and the others carried out their belongings and got inside.

      “The last we’ll see of good old Washington for several months to come,” sighed Joe, as he cast a final look at the homes they were leaving behind.

      There were tears in the eyes of Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Holton as they gave the youths and their fathers a warm farewell. Professor Bigelow also took part in the leave-taking, for he was well liked by all. Bob’s smaller brother and Joe’s sister gave tender good-byes, and with one last adieu the adventurers made their way down the platform and to the New York Limited.

      CHAPTER VII

      New York – And On

      THE trip to New York, while interesting, was without incident, and they were glad to stretch their legs in the Pennsylvania Terminal, where hundreds of people from all parts of the country were assembled.

      “Now what?” asked Joe, after a bountiful lunch.

      “Better get to a hotel,” replied Mr. Holton, picking up his bags.

      The party walked outside and hailed a taxi, the driver of which agreed to take them to a comfortable hotel near the waterfront.

      “An outside room,” observed Bob, as he glanced at his ticket and followed the others to an elevator.

      Their sleeping quarters were on the seventeenth floor, where a wonderful view of lower Manhattan and the waterfront could be had.

      “Fairly high, but could be a lot higher,” observed Joe, as he gazed out at the scores of other tall buildings that were grouped about them.

      “The trend is upward,” remarked Mr. Lewis. “Imagine how old New York will look fifty years from now, when there may be buildings two hundred stories high!”

      “Suppose we go down and see how things look from the street,” suggested Mr. Holton. “Been a long time since we’ve been here.”

      The remainder of that day was spent exploring Manhattan Island. They turned in early in the evening, for they were very tired.

      “Tomorrow,” said Bob, as he threw himself on the bed, “we’ll see sights for sore eyes.”

      And they did. The scene at the dock was one of absorbing interest to all, even as much as the men had witnessed it. Ships from all countries were anchored in dense rows, their crewmen busy loading and unloading cargoes. Boxes and bales were being piled in great stacks, awaiting transfer by motor truck. Passengers and spectators crowded closely around the sections where passenger liners were anchored.

      “Here we are,” said Mr. Holton, pointing to a medium-sized ship between two other smaller boats. “The Empire. Looks staunch enough.”

      The others agreed and then made their way up the gangplank. A white-clad officer came out to meet them and upon receipt of their tickets directed them to their staterooms.

      “Large and comfortable,” commented Bob, as he set down his baggage and looked about.

      “All you could ask for,” said Joe, who was to share the room with his chum.

      The youths spent several more minutes in examining the articles furnished them for the voyage. Then Bob turned toward the door.