At that time we were awaiting the arrival of the monthly launch from the town of Remate de Males, and had spent a day weighing rubber at the camp of one of the employees, half a day’s journey from headquarters.  The rubber-pellets were loaded into our large canoe to take up to Floresta.  We spent the evening drinking black coffee and eating some large, sweet pineapples, whereafter we all took a nap lasting until midnight, when we got up to start on our night trip.  It had been considered best to travel at night, when it was nice and cool with none of the pestering insects to torture us, and we were soon paddling the heavy canoe at a merry rate, smoking our pipes and singing in the still, dark night.  Soon we rounded a point where the mighty trees, covered with orchids and other parasitic plants, sent their branches down to the very water which in its depths was hiding the dreaded water-snakes.  The only sound we heard was the weird calling of the night-owl, the “Mother of the Moon” as the Indians call it.  Except this and the lapping sound of water, as we sped along, nothing disturbed the tranquillity of the night.

I was in the act of lighting another pipe when one of the men cried out: 

“What’s this?”

We all stopped paddling and stared ahead at a large dark object, resting on a moon-lit sand-bar not far from us.  Then someone said, “Sucuruju.”  Few people can comprehend the feeling that creeps into one’s heart when this word is pronounced, under such circumstances, in the far-off forest, in the middle of the night.  The word means boa-constrictor, but it meant a lot more at this moment.  An indescribable feeling of awe seized me.  I knew now that I was to face the awful master of the swamps, the great silent monster of the river, of which so much had been said, and which so few ever meet in its lair.

Running the canoe ashore we advanced in single file.  I now had a chance to inspect the object.  On a soft, muddy sand-bar, half hidden by dead branches, I beheld a somewhat cone-shaped mass about seven feet in height.  From the base of this came the neck and head of the snake, flat on the ground, with beady eyes staring at us as we slowly advanced and stopped.  The snake was coiled, forming an enormous pile of round, scaly monstrosity, large enough to crush us all to death at once.  We had stopped at a distance of about fifteen feet from him, and looked at each other.  I felt as if I were spellbound, unable to move a step farther or even to think or act on my own initiative.

The snake still made no move, but in the clear moonlight I could see its body expand and contract in breathing; its yellow eyes seeming to radiate a phosphorescent light.  I felt no fear, nor any inclination to retreat, yet I was now facing a beast that few men had ever succeeded in seeing.  Thus we stood looking at each other, scarcely moving an eyelid, while the great silent monster looked at us.  I slid my