Of the many little-known places in South America, the least known lie eastward of the eastern base of the Andes. One such region is the Caquetá of Colombia. We had been considering the feasibility of undertaking a trip into this country, but the departure for home of my companion, Doctor Allen, and Mr. Lloyd, from San Agustin, left me alone in the field, and I doubted the advisability of taking the journey without their assistance. From all the information I could gather, the crossing of the Eastern Range presented great difficulties and would have to be accomplished on foot. The rainy season had set in, adding to the difficulties of travel. Also, the rivers were swollen to such an extent that there was danger of our being stopped at any one of them; or, far worse, of being unable to recross them upon our return. However, a nearer view invariably changes the perspective, so I determined to approach the region as near as possible, gather all the data available, and then follow the course that seemed best. Accordingly, we bade a reluctant farewell to San Agustin one Sunday morning. The entire village turned out to see us depart and gave us numerous tokens of their good-will and friendship in the form of embroidered handkerchiefs, panama hats, food, and pets. An old Indian solemnly presented me with a small monkey, which he said could cry if spanked thoroughly; he offered to give a demonstration of the creature’s accomplishment, but I assured him that his word was sufficient. A parrot was contributed by another person who said it would be good company, as it “conversed” well. The _Vaya con Dios!_ of these simple, honest folk was touching, and we took away with us only the most pleasant memories and friendliest feeling. After a three days’ ride through level plains and gently rolling grasslands we forded the Rio Suaza and drew rein in the town of Guadaloupe. It stands at the foot of the Cordillera Oriental. A trail was being constructed from this point across the mountains and into Amazonian drainage; however, work had little more than begun, and the reports of the route we had from the villagers were not very encouraging. There was nothing of particular interest about the village. We moved to a site known as La Danta three thousand five hundred feet up the slope. There was abundant woods all around in which we hunted with good results nearly three weeks.