As we had now advanced within a short distance of the township Taica, we were not a little rejoiced at the thoughts that we should again get some food. In the neighbourhood of this place we came to a river which poured down over the precipices of a very high mountain, and was so much swollen by the rain of the three last days that it rolled down in immense volumes, and the roaring noise of the flood, as it dashed from one precipice to another, could be distinctly heard at the distance of eight miles. There was no other possibility of passing this turbulent river but by throwing a bridge across from one rock to the other. We accordingly set to work with the utmost diligence, and in the space of three days we constructed a bridge of the largest trees, and the whole of us passed safely to the other side of these cataracts. While we were engaged in building this bridge, the Indians of Taica had gained sufficient time to run off and conceal all their provisions. When, therefore, we arrived in this township and met not a single inhabitant, nor found the smallest particle of food to still our hunger, we stared at each other in dismay when we considered our dreadful position. The hope of soon obtaining food had alone inspired us with sufficient courage and strength to undertake the construction of this bridge. For myself I do not hesitate to acknowledge that I never, in the whole course of my life, felt so distressed in mind as on this occasion, when I found that I could neither procure food for my men nor myself. Added to all this, we had overheated ourselves by marching about the neighbourhood in a burning sun for a couple of hours in search of the inhabitants. It happened to be the eve of Easter day, and I shall never forget this day as long as I live; and the reader can easily imagine what a pleasant Easter we spent without a morsel of food. We should have considered ourselves blessed and happy if we had only had a handful of maise.