In Search of an Unknown Race — page 34: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

26 VAN. Van but those on board the Rattler had mistaken for breaking surf was simply the outcoming flood from the mouth of the Amazon meeting, miles from the shore, with the incoming current. Over a sea of turbid mud-colored water the launch sped on toward the land, which was now not more than forty miles distant. It was no wonder that Van, thoroughly depressed and cast down at the sudden ending of a voyage which had promised so much sat gloomily by himself on one of the thwarts, with his face buried in his hands. Tom seemed to accept the situation with the easy philosophy of his race. ‘«Six knot current wid dis spring flood,” he said as though talking to himself, ‘‘and strong trade wind ought bring us well into Para ribber by noon—den Para sixty mile furder up.” ‘Didn't I hear you say something about being a pilot round these parts, Tom?” asked Van, shaking off some of his despondency as he listened to the negro’s utterance. Yes—Tom had mentioned it. And further ques- tioning drew from him that for two successive years, tempted by the higher wages offered him, he had been in a small steamer running on the Amazon and Para rivers. Van’s mind was grappling with a new and sudden hope. Exposing the money belt about his waist, he turned back the flap of one of the compartments, from which he took his uncle’s letter. fi Spreading it face down on one of the thwarts, Van ’ (COPMIE LOOKS.