Death on the River of Doubt: Chapter 16–Epilogue

“Men very disheartened,” Kermit wrote in his journal. “Hard work; wet all day; half ration.” On the bright side, Rondon had managed to kill two barrigudo monkeys to supplement their meager dinner.

Their hunger made everyone start obsessing about food. A favorite topic of conversation was what they wanted to eat.

Hunger, exhaustion, malaria, an infected leg, and now his heart were giving him trouble. Roosevelt threw himself onto the ground and begged Cherrie to go on without him—not once, not twice, but four times. Each time Cherrie adamantly refused to leave him.

Julio begrudgingly helped carry the cargo. But when Paishon reprimanded him for lagging behind, Julio became enraged.

“We all felt that the cowardly assassin had run amuck and might be lurking in the thick forest waiting a chance to get another victim,” Cherrie wrote.

“We all felt that the cowardly assassin had run amuck and might be lurking in the thick forest waiting a chance to get another victim,” Cherrie wrote.

“It was questionable whether or not he would live to reach the Indian villages, which were probably his goal,” Roosevelt wrote. “He was not a man to feel remorse...but surely that murderer was in a living hell, as with fever and famine leering at him from the shadows, he made his way through the empty desolation of the wilderness.”

“It was questionable whether or not he would live to reach the Indian villages, which were probably his goal,” Roosevelt wrote. “He was not a man to feel remorse...but surely that murderer was in a living hell, as with fever and famine leering at him from the shadows, he made his way through the empty desolation of the wilderness.”

“It was questionable whether or not he would live to reach the Indian villages, which were probably his goal,” Roosevelt wrote. “He was not a man to feel remorse...but surely that murderer was in a living hell, as with fever and famine leering at him from the shadows, he made his way through the empty desolation of the wilderness.”

Out of respect, everyone removed their hats. After burying him, a cross was placed by his head. To honor Paishon, they gave a salute. “We fired a volley for a brave and loyal soldier who had died doing his duty,” Roosevelt wrote.

The following morning, Roosevelt woke up with a fever. He was weak and his infected leg was in excruciating pain from the stress and exertion he had endured the day before, hunting for Julio.

It took time to set up the new camp, and by nightfall, Roosevelt’s temperature was so high he was delirious.

He kept repeating, over and over again, the lines from Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s famous poem “Kubla Khan”:
“‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree...’”

He kept repeating, over and over again, the lines from Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s famous poem “Kubla Khan”:
“‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree...’”

Despite Roosevelt’s improvement, Kermit knew that even though his father was no longer delirious, he was still weak and vulnerable to a relapse.

Despite Roosevelt’s improvement, Kermit knew that even though his father was no longer delirious, he was still weak and vulnerable to a relapse.

Without another word, Rondon’s canoe passed him by. Desperate, Julio scanned the river, waiting anxiously. When Roosevelt’s canoe was in sight, he shouted frantically for Roosevelt, telling him he wanted to surrender and climb on board the canoe. Roosevelt didn’t reply. He thought Julio was “craven at heart, a strange mixture of ferocity and cowardice.”

The following morning, Rondon told Roosevelt that he wanted to send a search party back for Julio. This wasn’t the first time Rondon had suggested it. He’d also mentioned it the day before after they had set up their campsite. Roosevelt didn’t like the idea then, and he still didn’t like it this morning. A bitter argument between Roosevelt and Rondon ensued.

“Rondon deliberately vacillated about Julio with 100 lies. He wants to wait and take the latitude but F[ather] won’t let him...Rondon and Lyra begged to stop to send back for Julio whom 3 days ago they were in a blind rage to kill,” Kermit wrote in his diary.

“Rondon deliberately vacillated about Julio with 100 lies. He wants to wait and take the latitude but F[ather] won’t let him...Rondon and Lyra begged to stop to send back for Julio whom 3 days ago they were in a blind rage to kill,” Kermit wrote in his diary.

“What was our astonishment to hear Col. Rondon announce that he intended remaining [sic] in this camp for the day!” Cherrie wrote. “And he intended to send a couple of men to look for the murderer Julio! To capture and carry him along with us to where he could deliver him to the military authorities! This resolution on Col. Rondon’s part is almost inexplicable in the face of facts regarding our position.”

“What was our astonishment to hear Col. Rondon announce that he intended remaining [sic] in this camp for the day!” Cherrie wrote. “And he intended to send a couple of men to look for the murderer Julio! To capture and carry him along with us to where he could deliver him to the military authorities! This resolution on Col. Rondon’s part is almost inexplicable in the face of facts regarding our position.”

Though Roosevelt had conceded to Rondon’s wish to stay, he pushed Rondon to send someone to scout the area ahead of them.

That evening, despite the persistent pain in his leg, Roosevelt enjoyed watching the sunset and the stars twinkling in the dark sky while waiting for Antonio Pareci and Luiz Correia to return.

The men didn’t know how much more they could take. The rapids were unrelenting. They had been fighting them for the past six weeks, and the last six days had been no different.

Meanwhile, Roosevelt was barely hanging on. At each portage, Kermit and Cherrie held him up as he walked. The bacterial infection in his leg was now so severe, he could barely hobble. A shiny, bright red rash, called St. Anthony’s fire, covered his swollen leg, and pus-filled abscesses protruded beneath the skin. Just a mere touch to his leg caused unbearable pain.

“It was the first definite mark that a civilized man had been on the river,” Cherrie noted. With renewed vigor, the men got back in their canoes. Less than an hour later, a house came into view. Cheers erupted.

Just a half hour later, Rondon spotted a man in a canoe. The man took one look at the motley crew and frantically paddled his canoe toward the shore, desperately trying to get away. He was convinced they were Indians and knew that no one who came down the river from that direction was friendly.

The eagerly waiting audience, overdressed in fancy gowns and suits, quickly realized it was no use trying to fan themselves to cool off. Flushed and sweating, they were also resigned to the fact that there was no escaping an odor of meat and vegetables, which was wafting through the windows from the market stalls outside.

“I feel somewhat incredulous as to Colonel Roosevelt having actually discovered a new river nearly one thousand miles long,” Markham said. He even dared to suggest that Roosevelt may have mistakenly gone down a different river that was already known and mapped.

Roosevelt was both surprised and indignant. He knew the truth. The River of Doubt was an important discovery that changed the map of the world. And he could prove it, which is exactly what he planned to do tonight.

Though everyone could see that the former president was noticeably thinner—he had lost fifty-five pounds on the expedition—they had no idea how momentous it was that Roosevelt was even alive.

The newspaper reporters who had greeted him as he walked off the ship were shocked at how thin and old he looked. They noted that his usually smiling face looked pained and pinched. But Roosevelt reassured them that he was feeling much better, especially since his recurring attacks of malaria had subsided, for now.

Despite lingering feelings of fatigue from the aftereffects of the infection and malaria, Roosevelt walked confidently onto the stage. When he started to talk, the former president was his usual exuberant self, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“It is almost impossible for me to show you what I did on these maps because they are so preposterously wrong,” he began.