Added to the danger of the shifting gales is a rapids named San Jorge. There was just enough water to cover the rocks which dot the river-bed, causing a series of cross-currents and whirlpools which only a Venezuelan boatman, trusting mainly to luck, can hope to pass through. The rigging of the _Hilo de Oro_ was old and rotten, and ropes were constantly snapping and sails splitting. No matter how obvious a defect was, it was never remedied until an accident had occurred. The boom had been threatening to break as each sudden gust of wind struck the mainsail, but a few boards nailed across the weakened place it was hoped would give sufficient strength for any emergency. An hour after leaving San Jorge, however, the boom parted with a loud report and dropped into the water, nearly upsetting the boat. Then, while the craft wallowed on her side with the deck awash there ensued a good deal of mingled praying, swearing, and frantic work until the heavy boom was fished out of the water. We tied up at the bank, cut down a tree, and worked the greater part of the night replacing the broken member. One of the curious granite battlements rears its head out of the water to a height of several hundred feet, and is somewhat suggestive of a small edition of the famous Sugar-Loaf Rock at the entrance to the harbor of Rio de Janeiro. This is called Treasure Rock, and no Venezuelan ever passes the spot without casting envious glances to the top. In the days when the old Spaniards were still wandering over the newly discovered lands in search of El Dorado, so the story goes, they penetrated far into the Cerro Sipapo and found rich treasures in gold and precious stones. The Guajibo Indians, in whose domain they had penetrated and whom they had robbed, finally tired of their unwelcome guests and chased them down the river. In desperation the Spaniards formed a stronghold on this island rock, driving iron spikes into its sides as a means of reaching the top; for many weeks they resisted a siege by the savage hordes, but with the coming of the rainy season the Indians withdrew to their mountain fastness. Finally the Spaniards came down, cutting off the spikes as they descended; they feared pursuit, so left the treasure on the rock, hoping to come for it when reinforcements had been secured; they never returned, and to this day the fabulous wealth of the Guajibos lies entombed on the top of the impregnable boulder.