The shouting of the crowd violent squall, so may the most was now in a different key. peaceable joyous crowd of They gathered round the fallen marshmen be transformed by man, and the noise grew fiercer. a word and a blow into a fierce I asked the captain to bank and angry mob, swayed only in again, but my visit to the by one impulse the primitive village had delayed his boat desire to kill. over-long already, and he could not allow me any more time. A bend in the river hid the swaying yelling mob from my sight. It was my last glimpse of the Ma'adan-typical of them and their marshes; for just as quickly as the wide expanse of smooth blue water is lashed into fierce waves by a sudden If I close my eyes I can still hear, echoing across the waters, the laughter which is like that of care-free children changed suddenly to shouts of wild anger, the quiet hum of daily life broken by the crack of rifle-shots, the pleasant sound of the reeds rustling against my mashhuf, drowned by the wails of weeping women. ON THE RUPUNUNI TRAIL. BY MRS CECIL CLEMENTI. THERE was bustle and babel at Sprostons' A.B.C. Wharf, but it faded away behind us when at eight o'clock on a bright tropical morning our steamer left Georgetown to pursue its leisurely course up the Demerara river. It is not an exciting journey, but there is a dreamy peace about river travelling in British Guiana which, if you put all idea of hurry out of your mind, becomes fascinatingly restful. At first the land on both sides is absolutely flat, and a dense fringe of jungle growth screens the banks. The high chimneys of sugar-factories may be seen on either hand, and occasional glimpses of coconut groves or of pale-green sugar-fields are caught where a creek or drainage outlet has reduced the riverside curtain of vegetation. But, after twenty miles or so, the big estates and all regular cultivation are left behind. In Dutch days, more than a century ago, the seat of Government was on First Island, eighteen miles up the Demerara, and the land on both sides of the river was cultivated much higher up than it is to-day; but, after the English annexation in 1803, the estates moved largely to the coast, and the river banks are now chiefly the property of smallholders, who only occupy beneficially a narrow fringe of land. cow. There is a good deal of life on the waterway. The steamer is constantly held up by people coming off to her in bateaux and corials with passengers, parcels, and mail, the latter often coming perilously near a watery grave when a sudden rush of river breeze whirls the letters up from the bottom of the light craft wherein creole nonchalance has loosely flung them. Sometimes, too, a cow has to be hoisted aboard from a small boat, when everybody gives advice, and peaceful monotony is pleasurably dashed with incident for all save the The inhabitants of the river banks-bovianders, as they are called—have, I think, a very comfortable place in the sun, and their little homes form quaintly pretty pictures en vignette. The bush is cleared from the riverside, and a little plank runs out into the stream to form a landing-stage. The huts are of rough boards, thatched with russet palmleaf, and stand on pleasant carpets of grass. One's eye rejoices in the absence of jungle, whilst clumps of delicious plumy bamboo, or a few graceful palmtrees, which look as though deliberately posing, complete the picture. The provisionfields are away behind the houses, and can rarely be seen absurd. The slow stream moves from the steamer, but there the punt down inch by inch; is a more or less spasmodic an incoming flood-tide even effort at cultivation on both drifts it back. But there is banks. The people are almost always the ebb; and why amphibious; the river is their should people exert themselves only road, and the smallest in a land of lotus and mañana ? child navigates his little corial. The sleepy tide of the imperceptibly-moving river makes this mode of progression easy and comfortable, and for people troubled with no ambitions it must be an ideal existence. About forty miles from the coast a line of sand-hills seems to indicate the seaboard of prehistoric times, when the rich alluvial flats had not yet been deposited by muddy currents from the mouths of the Amazon and Orinoco. From this point onwards the scenery improves. The banks rise steadily on either hand, and beautiful tree-ferns vary the monotonous riverside jungle. There are low hills crowned by big forest trees, telling of their mighty brethren in the far interior, and greenheart logs lie steeped in the water waiting to be shipped. They cannot be drifted down-stream in the usual fashion, as greenheart does not float. Sometimes the logs are loaded into steamers and schooners which come up-river for the timber; sometimes they are lashed alongside punts, and so conveyed to the coast. The sight of a punt with its thatched shelter amidships, and the crew snugly ensconced in hammocks, makes one feel that haste and energy are both vulgar and This impression fades, however, when opposite Wismar, sixty miles from the coast, the tall water-tower of Mackenzie Settlement is seen. The Demerara Bauxite Company has its mines, or rather quarries, at Akyma, a few miles farther up the river, whence their own railway line, some ten miles long, brings the ore down to Mackenzie. Here, in splendid and up-to-date crushing and drying plant, the pinkcoloured ore is passed from belt to belt, to be first crushed, then dried in huge metal cylinders, and finally swung up into a high riverside shoot, whence it is dumped straight on board ocean-going steamers lying beside the Company's quay. Near by are the workmen's houses, which are really model dwelling places, completely mosquito-screened and raised high above the ground on piles which stand in "oilwells," to prevent ants from climbing in. The married quarters consist of separate buildings for each family, and arrangements are being made for a school. There is also a fine baseball ground. The Company employ an experienced doctor to give his whole time to their settlements. Drainage and sanitation are carefully contrived, bush cleared away, Half a and every possible precaution rivers, much broken by rapids for health is taken. mile above Mackenzie is Fair's Rust, the administrative headquarters, where the white employees have their dwellings. Here our party was most hospitably received, and we spent a cool and comfortable night. During the day it is considerably hotter up-river than on the coast, where the sea-breezes relieve the sultriness; but the delicious coolness of a night, when you actually require a blanket, makes ample amends for this. Next morning a quick-moving little motor-launch flashed us down - stream to Arakwa Landing, a mile below the northern boundary of Mackenzie, where horses were awaiting us. Arakwa at present is only a clearing beside the river; but the track, which has just been cut to open up the vast areas of ranchingland, hitherto practically unexplored, runs continuously from this unassuming little landing almost due south for more than three hundred miles to Dadanawa. Mr H. P. C. Melville, who inhabited for nearly thirty years the Dadanawa savannahs near Brazil, through which the Rupununi river runs, had some 30,000 head of cattle there, when, in 1917, it was decided to make an endeavour to open up the country. He had previously been unable to reach the coast of his own colony, save by a long and toilsome journey down the Rupununi and Essequebo and cataracts. The up-stream passage usually took about a month, and cost more than a hundred pounds. This method of travel made all outlet for cattle impossible, and cut off the beautiful and healthy savannah country almost completely from the coast. Therefore, the Colonial Government decided to entrust Mr Melville himself with the task of cutting a trail, over which cattle could be driven from his own ranch down to the Berbice river at Takama. Over three hundred miles of country had to be traversed, and the nature of this country was quite unknown. Many and loud were the prophecies of failure; and since most people believed the interior of the colony to be one unbroken tangle of forest and swamp, only a few dared to hope that Mr Melville, with the paltry £10,000 at his disposal, could possibly succeed in his task. Mr Melville began his work in October 1917, and traced the line of the cattle-track from Dadanawa on the Rupununi through open savannah to the westernmost spur of the Kanuku Mountains, where they nearly touch the Takutu river, which divides British Guiana from Brazil. short distance at this point the road had to be cut through forest; but then it swung back once more through open grass country past the confluence of the Ireng and Takutu rivers to rejoin the Rupununi For a shed. Then suddenly, to his surprise and delight, Mr Melville found that he had again emerged into beautiful open prairies. Save by the banks of creeks, he encountered no more forest over the whole of the next forty miles to the Berbice at Takama, from which point that river is navigable to the sea, so that the problem of providing a means of access for cattle to the coast had now been solved. at Annai, where the adminis- Creek, in the Berbice watertrative headquarters of this southernmost district of the colony will soon be established. This section of the cattle-track is 129 miles long, and almost the whole of it runs through grassy prairies. At Annai the trail plunges into dense primeval forests that cover the whole country between the Burro burro and Essequebo rivers, and with the exception of the small Surama savannah, the line had to be cut for the next seventy-six miles through solid jungle. Then at Kurupukari a ferry was needed across the Essequebo, which is here half a mile wide. Unfortunately for British Guiana, this great river, which ought to form a highway to the southern country, is so broken up by cataracts and rapids that it is useless for steam navigation. The problem of avoiding the Essequebo is one of the chief difficulties in opening communications into the interior. Accordingly Mr Melville, leaving the Essequebo, carried his line across to Canister Falls, near the headwaters of the Demerara, cutting through another twenty miles of forest. But here the jungle had been swept by a tremendous fire, and the track runs through a ghastly desolation of charred trunks. There is an easy ford of the Demerara below Canister Falls, after which the toilsome business of cutting a way through dense forest continued for another fifty-five miles to Yawakuri By great good fortune nature has provided that the whole of this route, 322 miles long, should be almost level, although it crosses the watersheds of four large river systems-namely, those of the Amazon, Essequebo, Demerara, and Berbice. Another piece of luck was that Mr Melville contrived to find a gap in the extensive Iwokrama mountain range, which, as he discovered, ran athwart his track between the Essequebo and the Burroburro rivers, and which might have proved a formidable obstacle. The trail was completed as far as Takama in April 1919, and the expenditure involved was within the estimated cost. The Government then resolved that, as Takama is 103 miles from the coast, the cattletrack should be carried right on northwards to connect with the main roads of the colony, which extend to a point twentythree miles south of Georgetown; and that an offset should be made to bring the |