At about four o’clock that afternoon our destination was reached. From the top of a rather high hill we had an unobstructed view down the wide, newly cleared lane through the forest; a small cluster of mud-walled, palm-thatched huts nestled in the depression at the foot of the hill, with a patch of corn and rice growing to one side; a hundred yards beyond sparkled the river, and on all sides of the little clearing rose the Amazonian forest. The little building housing the telegraphic equipment was placed at our disposal, and tents were erected for the _camaradas_, who straggled in with the footsore pack-train until a late hour. The animals were given their liberty and bountiful feeds of corn and fodder, so that within a week many of them were in condition to start on the back trail, a comparatively easy trip, as there were no heavy loads to carry. Many of the natives were also sent back, while others were retained in the service of the expedition; one detachment was sent to the camp of the laborers who were working on the telegraph-line, which extended two kilometres beyond. This was the end of the survey, Barão de Melgaço being the name of the last station, and a force of about fifty men were engaged cutting an opening for the continuation of the line. At the rate they were working it was estimated that the line to Manaos would be completed in about two years. We had expected to find a craft of some kind awaiting us so that we might immediately pursue our journey down the river, but in this we were disappointed, although, as it later developed, a boat was then on its way to us, sent by order of Colonel Rondon. There were only two small dugouts available, which were entirely inadequate for our purpose, so the men were put to work cutting down a tree of large size and hollowing out a canoe which would hold the party and the necessary luggage. This work we estimated would take some weeks, so in the meantime we busied ourselves exploring the country in the vicinity of Barão de Melgaço.