He laid a broad, green leaf on the ground and then scraped the roots with his knife until they had been reduced to a heap of pulp. He took the mass in his hands and pressed out the surplus juice, leaving a ball of doughy material; this was tossed into the fire and turned with a stick until it had baked thoroughly and evenly all around. When it had assumed a black color, which was in half an hour, he pronounced it ready for use. Miguel now brought water in a folded leaf and scraped some of the medicine into it, and gave it to David to drink. When the particles dissolved they turned the water red, but the concoction was tasteless. They drank the guanabara each hour, and before many doses had been taken its effect began to make itself felt. It was bracing, even stimulating, and all symptoms of malaria vanished as if by magic. Within two days David was able to accompany Miguel on his daily hunt for food. Fortunately, they were now in a section of the country where game was not wanting. That indicated that they must be near a large river, for in the dry season the animals were always more abundant in a strip several miles wide bordering the larger streams. “We’ll get a good supply of food; then we’ll hunt the river. If we can locate it we can get out,” Miguel said as they started on their tramp through the forest. “Will we follow the river?” David asked. “No. We’ll make a raft out of bamboo and float down.” “I guess our luck has changed at last. Soon we’ll be back in camp.” “We have to find the river first. When we have found it, who knows where it will take us to? It might take us right back to camp, or many leagues away from it.” Miguel had his bow and a number of arrows. David was following close behind him; it was his duty to mark their trail by snapping twigs as they went along. Their shelter was too comfortable to lose so long as they remained in the locality. Before long they came upon a flock of four large black birds feeding in the top of a tree. They were like the one Miguel had shot right after finding David, and moved about heavily as they fed on the fruits that grew on the branches. The Brazilian took careful aim and released the cord of the bow. There was a sharp snap and the arrow sped whining through the air. Just before reaching the bird the shaft struck one of the numerous limbs a glancing blow; that was sufficient to deflect the missile from its path and it passed the mark by a goodly margin and continued its flight up above the trees and out of sight. The birds were not frightened, but continued eating as if they had not noticed anything of an unusual nature in their midst. This was fortunate, for it permitted Miguel to take a second shot; this time the arrow found its mark and a great _mutum_ fell crashing to the ground while the other three flew away.