The slope is less abrupt than on the western side. On the second night a palm-leaf lean-to called _El Paraiso_ was reached. The elevation was two thousand four hundred and twenty-five feet. A number of bedraggled and discontented laborers had erected this shelter and said they would stay there without doing another stroke of work until their pay, several months overdue, should arrive. Perhaps they are still camping there, unless the prospect of starving to death forced them to move, as we had heard several times that the foremen were in the habit of drawing the money for all the men under them, and then decamping for parts unknown. Beyond “the paradise” the way lay through a region that might well be called _El Infierno_. There was an unbroken succession of pools and sinks so that we struggled onward hour after hour through water and thin mud several feet deep. Contrary to our expectations, we had been able to use the mules for very light packs on parts of the previous day’s journey; but now they floundered and caused so much trouble, that we heartily regretted not having left them behind. On the following days the country was dotted with steep, rocky foot-hills, alternated with deep, muddy depressions. Rain fell almost continuously, but it served to keep away troublesome insects. The _peons_ were cheerful withal and seemed to enjoy the experience in spite of the hard work. However, it was with a feeling of relief that we emerged from the mountainous country and entered a stretch of level forest, the elevation of which was one thousand feet. From the edge of this “plateau” we had our first view of the Caquetá--a perfect ocean of forest stretching out ahead as far as the eye can see, which on clear days is a distance of many miles. The sight is most impressive. Not a single rise is visible above the uniform expanse of green, as the trees appear to be all of the same height. We stopped at the first native hut encountered, which was but a ten-minute walk from the settlement of Florencia. There was a clearing of considerable size; the greater part of it was overgrown with grass and weeds, but there were also fields of cane and plantains. The latter were the finest I have ever found in all South America--eighteen inches long and sweeter and better flavored than the best bananas. It was almost impossible to grow sugar-cane in any quantity; capibaras were abundant along the streams and made nightly inroads on the plantation, devastating large areas on each visit. The great Amazonian forest extending on all sides was full of surprising sounds emanating from a fauna entirely new to us. For the first time we heard the clear, ringing whistle of the “false bell-bird” (_Lathria cinerea_). The penetrating _whoo-ee-whee-oo_ filled the woods with music as the birds called to one another, but the obscurely colored singers were hard to see among the dark branches. The song contains several low, _churring_ notes that are lost from a distance.