The two exiles seemed to be very decent fellows, and gave us a rather interesting account of their imprisonment and of their subsequent escape from the escort; their companions, however, had elected to continue their journey to the Caraparaná and take a launch from there to Iquitos, as was our intention; but these two gentlemen had thought it more interesting to ascend the River Guepí by canoe as far as possible, and then, crossing overland to the River Santa María, an affluent of the Napo, to descend that river and the Napo to their destination, the Peruvian town of Iquitos on the Amazon. As we were bound for the same place we promptly made an arrangement to the effect that the ones who reached there last were to regale the first-comers with a good dinner and half a dozen bottles of the best champagne. We then celebrated this compact with a drink of _aguardiente_ each and retired for the night. As the river had risen some two feet by morning the two exiles determined to take advantage of this fact to set out at once, for such small rivers as the Guepí can only be navigated conveniently for any distance when the water is high. In accordance with this resolution they immediately began to pack up and send for their _bogas_, and at eleven o'clock, everything being ready, the two voyagers, with a last _adios_, took their departure. Returning to the house, we enjoyed an excellent lunch, during which we learned that our host had extensive rubber areas in the interior of the forest, several days' journey from the riverside and that his _peons_ were now at work there, extracting and preparing this produce for market; some of this rubber he sells at Mocoa, but his principal market is at Iquitos, which he described as the chief rubber centre of the Upper Amazon. In addition to his regular employees he had several Indians also at work collecting for him, whom he paid in merchandise. Lunch over, we said goodbye and took our departure, loaded with a fresh supply of limes, _yucas_, &c. The river, muddy and swollen to a degree, took us along rapidly, and soon Guepí was left behind and we were again alone upon the river. At about five o'clock we began looking for a _playa_ to stop for the night on, but none were to be seen--the river had covered them. We continued, however, in the hopes of finding some suitable place until it grew dark, when, fearing to go any farther, we tied up to a good, stout stump on the bank. Here we missed our _pamacari_, but, after some meditation, we hit upon the idea of hanging our ponchos over the framework, which, fortunately, we had left on. This scheme working satisfactorily, we had a couple of games of chess, and then retired. CHAPTER IV THE CENTRAL PUTUMAYO