The day following (February 22) the marching a part of the time was tolerably easy, but Wilson and Golden began to show signs of debility. Strain, nearly naked, went ahead and cleared a way with his cutlass. On finding the bushes too thick, he would plunge into them head foremost to break them down, trampling them under foot for those behind. During the day he killed another adder coiled to strike, but did not tell his men of it, lest they should become alarmed. Golden carrying no fire-arms, was often ordered forward to cut a path, but to-day he gave out completely, and when given the cutlass and directed to go to work, he laid the instrument down on the ground, then stretched himself beside it, and wept like a child. Destitution and toil were telling on him. He was a fine, splendid-looking young man, only twenty-two years of age, and brave as a lion; but this was a form of evil he had never dreamed of.
The next morning they proceeded on their journey through the woods and along the banks until one p.m., making about five miles, when they halted, as Strain had a most painful boil on his right instep, which prevented him from marching or wearing any boot. He was, moreover, suffering severely from a fall into a deep ravine the day before. Near the camp, where the river runs S.S.W., a small stream (the Uporganti) comes in from the N.E. This encouraged the belief that they might still be upon the Iglesias, as a small stream is shown on the map, coming into that river four miles from its mouth, and another about eleven miles above. About four o'clock, as they lay stretched around on the bank of the river, they were startled by a heavy booming sound, like that of a gun, which they thought at once came from Darien Harbor, the "El Dorado" of the expedition. The delusion for a moment made every heart bound.
In the morning (February 24) Strain made a moccasin from a leather legging which formerly belonged to Truxton, who had proposed to boil it down and eat it. The former, however, prevented him, saying they might yet need it for moccasins. So it turned out, and but for this very insignificant circumstance, it is very doubtful whether Strain could ever have got through at all, and consequently the whole party would have perished. On such simple suggestions, growing out of the knowledge of a backwoods life, the fate of scores of men often depends. Slinging his spare boot to his blanket for future service, Strain gave the order to march at half past six, fondly hoping to reach Darien Harbor before night, but having traveled with great pain some eight miles, and seeing no signs of tide-water, at five o'clock encamped on a sand-bank. Having passed during the day two or three rapids with some ten or twelve feet fall, they consoled themselves with the reflection that this accounted for the absence of tides. During the day Strain killed a bird about the size of a partridge, which they ate raw. I find the following recorded in the journal:
"Saturday, February 25. Slept well last night, the camp being free from mosquitoes. Set out at eight a.m., and found bad walking all day, both in the forest and on the beaches which we met. In the former we had to cut our way, while the beaches were so steep that we had sometimes to cut steps to crawl along, and even then we were in constant danger of falling into the river, which I did on one occasion.
"Encamped about six p.m. on a mud bank, having made about six miles. During the day's march we found about thirty-two clams, which, divided, gave us something to support life, as the acid nut-skins are less ripe than some miles above, while their kernels are so hard as to be almost inedible in the existing state of our teeth, which have been deprived of their enamel by the use of the acid.
"Saw several turkeys, but could obtain none, owing to the state of our fire-arms, which had become almost useless. My carbine, which was the best in the party, being loaded with difficulty, and requiring two men to fire it, one to take aim and pull the trigger, and the other to pull the cock back, and let it go at the word, invariably destroying the aim; under these circumstances I am not ashamed to say that I fired several times at turkeys without success."
"About sunset we saw a wild hog, weighing some 300 pounds, which came rushing toward us as if intending to attack, but paused about twenty yards distant. Considering the ferocity of this animal, and the state of our fire-arms, I should have hesitated in attacking him had we not been so pressed for food; but it was a matter of life and death in either case. I took deliberate aim at his body behind the shoulders, and with the assistance of Wilson fired my carbine, wounding him severely. I feared firing at his head, lest I should miss him altogether. After receiving the ball he paused a moment, as if uncertain whether to attack, after which he rushed off rapidly some fifty yards, when he was seized with a coughing fit, and slackened his pace to a walk. Handing my carbine to Wilson to reload, I followed him into the jungle, but soon lost him in the darkness of the forest. I am inclined to believe that this animal was not the peccary or wild hog of tropical climates, but one of the domesticated species, which, either in his own generation or that of his progenitors had become wild, because I do not think the peccary ever grows so large. His color was black, with white spots. I passed an almost sleepless night in regretting that we had not obtained him, for at this time food was our only thought, except to push through and obtain assistance for those behind."
The next morning (Sunday) they started early, but the long absence of food had so debilitated them that the marching was slow and difficult. They could make but short distances without being compelled to halt for a long rest. This tattered, skeleton group of four, stretched silent and sad in the forest beside that mysterious, unknown river, presented a most piteous
