In this condition Gonzalo and his companions reached the borders of the considerable river which, known later as the Napo, is one of the principal Ecuadorian tributaries of the Amazon, and which to them, accustomed to the comparatively small rivers of Europe, seemed an enormous stream, for so far they had not gazed upon the Amazon itself. Some encouragement was derived from this river; its waters were at least a living thing; its current might be a highway leading to the desired land. [Illustration: IN THE PERUVIAN MONTAÑA. Vol. II. To face p. 78.] At a point where the Napo--after the manner of many of these Andine rivers--rushes through a narrow chasm cut like an artificial canal through the last range of the mountains to escape to the plain the band crossed, constructing a frail bridge by the method of felling a huge tree across it, over which men and horses painfully made their way, losing, however, one of their number, an unfortunate Spaniard, who, missing his footing, seized with vertigo, plunged downwards several hundred feet into the boiling torrent which thundered along the rocky gorge. Little was gained here. There was still no prospect of the promised land. They were spent with toil and hunger; their provisions and their powers were alike exhausted. Tribes of savage Indians were occasionally met, who fought from behind rock or thicket with deadly poisoned arrows; tribes such as still exist to-day in parts of this wild region of the Amazon basin, and which still receive the traveller in similar fashion. To go on or to return--that was the question which now pressed itself on Gonzalo and his companions. But still the insidious tales of gold and plenty lured them on. At a point where the walls of the Amazon forest closed in impenetrably upon the river verge, as is the natural character of these waterways, monotonous by reason of their enclosure of the trees and creepers, and affording no pathway along their banks, Pizarro called a halt. It was decided that the present mode of progression was impossible. They must take to the stream. A vessel of some sort must be constructed. Necessity aiding their efforts, the Spaniards, after two months' work, built a "brigantine," a vessel rudely constructed from the timber of the forest joined together with nails from the horses' hoofs, rendered watertight with the tattered clothes of the travellers used in lieu of oakum, soaked in natural gums which abound in the trees, in the place of pitch. This craft was capable of carrying only part of the Spaniards: the remainder must continue to force their way along the shore.