The flaming _Jacaranda_ trees that thrust themselves upon one’s notice through the sheer boldness of their beauty fascinated him. Not extremely tall but with wide-spreading branches they looked like enormous bouquets so thickly were they covered with purplish flowers with only an occasional tuft of fern-like leaves to enhance their beauty. There were palms without number. Some grew tall and stately with crowns of gracefully drooping leaves; others had bent, spiny stems; and still others had shocks of ragged, split leaves perched on the top of thick, ringed trunks. A curio store just off the main thoroughfare attracted David’s attention and after gazing at the display in the windows for some time he decided to investigate the mysteries inside so forcefully suggested by the objects in front. He had always intended to make a collection of butterflies and other things and here was the opportunity to start it. But the door was locked. He tried the door of the next shop; it, too, was bolted. A passing policeman, observing his actions, volunteered the information that everything would be closed until later in the afternoon because the people were taking a nap during the hottest part of the day. And as David strolled down the street he rejoiced that the curio store had been closed, for what could he have done with the butterflies if he had purchased them? They were too fragile to carry around for months in the wilderness; and he would no doubt have the opportunity personally to collect all he wanted at the ranch. The afternoon being spent, the wanderer went back to the waterfront and boarded the steamer, and remained aboard for the night. There followed another day of sight-seeing, confined principally to the numerous little parks, and then the voyage was resumed up the river. David remained on deck as the steamer headed up the sluggish, muddy stream and enjoyed the changing vistas of broad expanses of water and the dark green of the vegetation that contrasted sharply with it. Then he went to his cabin to wash up for dinner. And there was Rogers examining a number of souvenirs he had purchased in Pará; a medly array of feather flowers, Indian head-dresses and the skins of birds and snakes was spread on the floor and chairs. “You still here?” David asked in surprise. He had not seen him since saying good-bye the morning they reached the port, as Rogers had stated that he was going no further than Pará. “Yes, I am going to stick around a while longer--until we get to Manaos, to be exact,” Rogers replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “Great! But you changed your mind rather suddenly, didn’t you? I hardly expected to see you again.” “I did intend to go only to Pará, but I found that my affairs had not been settled. So I have to keep on going. But I do not mind. The trip up the river is interesting.”