Before leaving the village where I secured him, I made a kind of sling for him to be carried in. It consisted of a short canvas sack, having two holes cut in the bottom for his legs to pass through. To the top of this was attached a broad band of the same cloth by which to hang it over the head of the carrier boy to whom the little prisoner was consigned. This afforded the ape a comfortable seat, and at the same time reduced the labor of carrying him. It left his arms and legs free, so he could change his position and rest, while it also allowed the boy the use of his own hands in passing any difficult place in the jungle along the way. From the trading post to the Rembo was a journey of five days on foot. Along the way were a few straggling villages; but most of the route lay through a wild and desolate forest, traversed by low, broad marshes, through which wind shallow sloughs of filthy, greenish water, seeking its way among bending roots and fallen leaves. From the foul bosom of these marshes rise the effluvia of decaying plants, breeding pestilence and death. Here and there across the dreary tracts is found the trail of elephants, where the great beasts have broken their tortuous way through the dense barriers of bush and vine. These trails serve as roads for the native traveler and afford the only way of crossing these otherwise trackless jungles. The only means of passing the dismal swamps is to wade through the thin, slimy mud, often more than knee-deep, and sometimes extending many hundred feet in width. The traveler is intercepted at almost every step by the tangled roots of mangrove trees under foot or clusters of vines hanging from the boughs overhead.