Free How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex by Mark Paul Jacobs Page A

lands, twisting in many directions before ending up almost due north. Roosevelt noticed the swollen river running for several miles amid swamped trees and solemn uprooted stumps that reminded Roosevelt of the giant totems carved from red cedars by the American Indians of the Pacific Northwest. Several times during this most pleasant day Cherrie pointed out brilliantly colored birds and other camouflaged wildlife.
    The pace of the water gradually quickened, and the ever-cautious Colonel Rondon peered ahead and ordered all dugouts to remain within eyeshot. A short time later, the water began to rush with even greater force. Roosevelt and his crew heard the distant sound of white water echo between the trees from directly downriver. Rondon ordered the canoes to shore.
    The camaradas pitched camp while Roosevelt, Kermit, and the officers forged ahead on foot to scout the rapids.
    Theodore Roosevelt soon discovered that the expedition’s watery path was strewn with obstacles. Following an hour long hike along the steepening ravine, the forest opened to massive rock formations that squeezed the placid Dúvida into an astoundingly narrow chasm. Roosevelt and Rondon stared down in awe at a stretch of foaming white water that roared down valley and twisted out of sight to the east. Within his eyeshot alone, Roosevelt counted several two-meter-high waterfalls, toppling effortlessly with both grace and terrific force.
    “We must prepare for our first portage,” Rondon stated simply.
    “Heaven help us,” Roosevelt replied.
    Sometime later, Kermit and Lyra returned from a scouting trip that took them even farther downriver. Lyra reported that the rapids continued for about a mile before the river could be again navigated, but there was an overland route through the rugged terrain by which they could cut the distance considerably by portaging the dugouts and provisions.
    “The portage will be rough, indeed,” Lyra said. “But I feel the men will be up to the challenge.”
    While waiting for Kermit, Teddy Roosevelt had noticed a crude native bridge spanning the narrowest part of the rocky gorge. And beside the river, there were signs of native habitation, although none appeared very recent.
     
    The third day of March 1914 began with angry skies and a drenching rain. Colonel Rondon gave the order to pack all of their provisions and then move them overland to a newly constructed campsite near the bottom of the rapids where they intended to re-launch their canoes. Moving the supplies was relatively easy compared to the brutal task of lugging the weighty dugouts through the woods and across the sandstone flats. The men completed their duties admirably while swatting stingless bees, gnats, and horseflies that Roosevelt figured were the size of water buffalos.
    The arduous work continued though that day and into the next, with all of the men pitching in to help move the dugouts at one time or another, except for the cook who remained at the new campsite near the foot of the rapids.
    At noontime upon the second full day at the rapids, Dr. Cajazeira hurriedly examined all of the camaradas and found at least one man downtrodden with fever. Roosevelt found this a troubling sign for the expedition, especially since it occurred only a few days into their river journey and that it would be many weeks until they reached some semblance of civilization and a well-equipped and supplied modern hospital. Although Kermit had suffered from malaria throughout the trip, Roosevelt was proud his son never complained. Kermit fulfilled his duties beyond his station alongside the steadfast Brazilian laborers. Roosevelt only lamented his own personal condition; his malaria remained in check as long as they camped, collected specimens, or simply floated down the river, and yet his symptoms worsened when he attempted any manual work, no matter how fleeting. This frustrated the tenacious former president to no end.
     
    As the night fell on the fourth day of