National Park After Dark - The Conservation President and the Adventure That Almost Killed Him (Part 2)

Episode Date: April 14, 2025

After over a month of a long, arduous overland journey the Roosevelt-Rondon Expedition finally reaches the waters of the River of Doubt. Their troubles have just begun as they are about to face not only the beauty of the unknown, but its perils. Everyone will starve and suffer - but not everyone will survive.For a full list of our sources, visit npadpodcast.com/episodesListen to Watch Her Cook on Apple and Spotify!For the latest NPAD updates, group travel details, merch and more, follow us on npadpodcast.com and our socials:Instagram: @‌nationalparkafterdarkTikTok: @‌nationalparkafterdarkSupport the show by becoming an Outsider and receive ad free listening, bonus content and more on Patreon or Apple Podcasts. Want to see our faces? Catch full episodes on our YouTube Page!Thank you to this week’s partners!Smalls: For 50% off your first order, head to Smalls.com and use code NPAD.BetterHelp: National Park After Dark is sponsored by BetterHelp. Get 10% off.Hello Fresh: Use our link to get up to 10 FREE meals and a free high protein item for life.Quince: Use our link to get free shipping and 365-day returns.For a full list of our sources, visit npadpodcast.com/episodes Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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This is part two of the conservation president and the adventure that almost killed him. And I've been sitting here waiting just as long as everyone else has, I feel like, for this episode because we're recording this a few days apart, which we don't always do. But I've been sitting here in anticipation to find out what happens next. Because in episode one, you did a lot of foreshadowing. that I just know that this episode is going to be filled with a lot of bad things going on. Yeah, well, let me just tell you, I too wanted to find out what happened up until about 2 a.m. this morning when I finished the book and finished my notes. So yeah, this was an incredible story.

And that's why I kind of, in part one, I was like, I don't know how many parts this is going to end up being because I hadn't finished my research yet. And it was pretty down to the wire up until about 20 minutes ago as to what I was going to decide to do. But this is going to be the final part. And it's going to be a long one because of that. I kind of just sh mushed everything into one. So I hope, Cassie, I hope you have water or tea. I hope you've gone to the bathroom. I hope you have a comfy blanket.

Blanket, check, bathroom, check. Water, not tea, but check. Great. I'm ready. Everyone else. You're free to do whatever. I'm here. Great. All right. So let me give you kind of like a formal recap of part one. Of course, as with every multi-part episode, it goes without saying you need to listen to the previous parts to have any idea of really what's going on. But for you, especially since it's been so long, I'll give a little formal recap of part one.

Perfect. So we began speaking about Theodore Roosevelt and his many accomplishments, in particular his lasting conservation legacy. He was deeply passionate about the environment, a love that began in childhood that extended into his adult life. He earned the nickname the Conservation President for a very good reason. During his presidency, he established the U.S. Forest Service and protected about 230 million acres of public land, thus creating national parks, forests, and wildlife preserves. In 1913, after losing the presidential election and largely retreating from the public stage, Roosevelt embarked on a new adventure. His lifelong love for nature and exploration led him to pursue an expedition in the largely unmapped Amazon,

where he planned to explore and conduct scientific research. This journey was first prompted by an invitation to lecture throughout South America, which he quickly expanded into a full-blown expedition, and he started hiring men to build this team that would accompany him and guide him there. The Museum of Natural History, who had a close relationship with Roosevelt, was very happy to assist in organizing this expedition, but became really angry when they were informed once the team was already down in South America,

that plans had changed. The original route, while known, was changed when Roosevelt decided to explore the uncharted Rio da Duvita, the River of Doubt, a dangerous and unknown path. Despite museum objections, Roosevelt was determined to proceed. The expedition faced difficulties, including logistical issues,

ill-prepared animals and men, as well as personnel cuts, and the team essentially struggled with harsh terrain and illnesses from the get-go. Many men dropped out, and the expedition's long-term survival began coming into question. Before the team even reached the river, conditions worsened, morale plummeted, and supplies were severely reduced. By February of 1914, the group, having lost many of its original members, finally slid their boats into the River of Doubt, keenly aware that their survival depended on pushing forward into the unknown. So that is where we are going to pick up. I'm ready. Let's go.

The swirling brown current whisked them away. Forming a long chain of dugout balsas, the team snaked along the river. Roosevelt was absolutely entranced by the river's edge and wrote extensively about the fauna that had to be seen to be believed and also noted his admiration for the paddlers, how they navigated the river with such expertise and skillfully navigated around sunken obstacles. While Roosevelt was on the river primarily for a grand adventure, Rondon was there for geographical accuracy and was set on leading the expedition in a way that would ensure just that. Much of his work on previous expeditions in the previous 20 years was adding to blank portions

on maps or correcting mistakes already on them. As we discussed, the River of Doubt at this point in history was unmapped. So to accurately do so, the men had to rely on a combination of celestial navigation tools and the use of a sextant, along with using fixed station method of survey to accurately map the winding river. This was a reliable form of survey at the time, but it was absolutely exhausting. Repeated, detailed measurements were taken so frequently that within the first day, they stopped their boats 114 times. They would have to pull ashore, hack through the jungle to place

riding rods, which would be used to calculate distance and a lot of other survey or things. Surveying jargon that we don't need to get into, but it's complicated. The boats, which by the way, in part one, we talked about the boats a little bit at the end, they're not lightweight watercraft. They're 2,000 plus pound carved out tree trunks essentially. All right. How could we forget that they had to ditch their boats, but they were carrying through the jungle and had to buy new ones from the indigenous people that were there.

And now they're these massive boats. So let's keep that in mind for these 114 times on day one. Perfect. The boats moved six miles and five hours that day. And Roosevelt was annoyed. Not only was the survey work labor intensive and dangerous, particularly for his son Kermit, who was doing a lot of the work. It was killing his vibe.

And it just reminded me when I was reading the book, because they went on and on about this, about how he was frustrated. Remembering the devil wears Prada? And she's like, by all means, move at a glacial pace. Like, that's what I envision Roosevelt thinking. But Rondon was committed to his task, and the entire team, Roosevelt among them, had grown to deeply admire and respect him, his leadership and his commitment to routine. Each and every morning, Rondon would wake up at 4 a.m. and swim, shave, and have a simple breakfast. He'd wake the team and address them formally with orders for the day and assign various tasks. Before breaking camp and moving onwards, they would locate a piece of wood in the jungle, paint it with the date and their expedition name, and hammer it into the soil as a way of marking their presence.

Roosevelt, Rondon's co-leader, on the other hand, was much less strict in his formality in both how he treated the men on the team, and within his own routines. He was referred to as the life of the party of the expedition and regaled the group every night with stories of his years of adventures. Compared to the misery of the overland journey that we discussed in episode one, or part one, I should say. Their first days on the river felt like a welcome change, but they still had their struggles.

The rain was inescapable. The Amazon basin gets around 100 inches of rain every year, and the intermittent downpours would soak everyone to the bone, quickly followed by blazing sun that coupled with the consistent temperatures of 80 to 90 degrees Fahrenheit would turn the forest into a sauna. All of their clothing was consistently wet or moist, and that discomfort was amplified by something else within the jungle. Mysterious sounds. Crashes, cries, screams, barks, and groans. Some were outright terrifying, as no one could place from what type of animal they were being omitted from. But the ones that scared

them the most were those that once they were heard, every other creature fell silent to, as if they were hiding for their lives. It was worst in the night, which at times became so dark, they could barely see their hands in front of their faces, let alone distinguish the prowling, slithering, or creeping creatures in the jungle. Speaking of animals, this part of the world is amongst the most biologically diverse. With thousands of known, and likely as many yet to be discovered species, you are never alone here. Amongst the top concerns for this expedition, however, were the dangerous life within the water and the life that lived alongside it. And this book is, I sing the praises of this book a lot throughout this episode especially, or this part especially, because it is so

detailed and is so well written. The author of this book, The River of Doubt, her name is Candice Millard. This book is amazing and she's written a lot of other historic novels and she's a New York Times bestseller. This book is great. If you like this story at all, I would definitely recommend reading the book, but it goes into a lot of detail, not just about the expedition, but parts of the expedition like the jungle itself and a lot of details on different people that I don't even mention in the these, this two-parter. So definitely. get into that. It's like we try our best in these podcasts to convey the whole story, but books, they just, they're all encompassing. They have so much time for everything. So another book

recommendation added to the list. Yeah. And I did watch an interview. I think I mentioned it last time. I watched an interview that Candice did on her research process for this and things like that. She spent like over 10 years writing this book and it shows. That's really cool. That's a lot of dedication. So yeah, long way of saying. I am. inserted just like a little fun fact in here because she goes off into extreme detail about the biodiversity of the Amazon and just different historical records of animal attacks within Amazon and things like that. But specifically, the Amazon River is home to more than 3,000 species of freshwater fish. And compared to the Mississippi, do you want to guess at like how many

freshwater species of fish we have in the Mississippi? 25. 375, fish. I was close. That was close. I was so bad with numbers. You can't put me on the spot. I thought it was going to be really low just by the way you were looking at me. So I thought I was reading your eyeballs. I was squinted eyes.

I was wrong. Like your eyes said, it's really low. It's so low. Yeah. It's one. I could have guessed one and thought I was great. You would have panicked. If this was a written test, you would have put one.

And failed. There were hundreds of animals that could wound, seriously injure, or kill any of them, but of particular concern were the Cayman, piranha, and venomous snakes. The Cayman could grow upwards of 15 feet and lay silently just below the water. You wouldn't know they were there until you were on top of them. And as the men sat a mere six inches above the water in their dugouts, the unseen only added to their fear. The piranha, with their razor teeth and penchant for furious behavior, were well known to have consumed men, some of which were friends of Rondon.

and the snakes that dripped from the overhanging trees and slithered underfoot in the leaf litter were silent killers. The danger could be considered, but never entirely avoided. Boat landings meant that the men would have to jump out into the water up to their chests in order to haul the boats ashore. And remember, we're doing that 100 times a day. Just a couple times. And camp had to be made by clearing a space in the jungle, which was often done barefoot. Roosevelt's first close call with death came only days after launching onto the river. When making camp one evening, one of the men on the team was clearing a space for their tents

when he agitated a concealed coral snake. Here in North America, you may have heard the jingle, I'm not going to test you, but do you know it offhand? How to remember venement coral snakes and your eyes are now squinting. You're like, I'm not going to test you, but can you recite this? I don't know. I'm like I know the difference between venomous bites and non-venomous, but I don't know a jingle for it. In North America, there are venomous coral snakes. And then there is a species of snake that imitates the coral snake that looks almost identical, but is non-venomous. And the only difference visually... And I'm supposed to know a jingle for this.

Okay. I did. And I don't know where I learned it. But it's... Red on black, you're okay, Jack. Red touching yellow, you're a dead fellow. And it's because they have bands of different colorations. And the imitator has bands that are flip-flopped. So they look very, very much like a coral snake. But they're actually non-venomous. They're just trying to intimidate and trick others.

You know what I mean? No, you don't. Okay, well, I guess it honestly reminded me of another rhyme that I learned in school that it's not a real rhyme. But remember it was like blah, blah, blah, dressed in yellow, went upstairs to kiss a fellow, by mistake, she kissed a snake, how many doctors will it take? And it's a jump rope song. And then it's like one, two, three. And you try and get like, we've lived different lives, clearly. I was playing jump rope.

You were learning about venomous snakes. Okay. Well, even if you did know that, that little jingle, it was utter. useless in the Amazon where nearly 50 species of coral snake defied that adage. You would have been like, I didn't even know. Didn't even know. This episode is brought to you by Prime. Obsession is in session.

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So they're making camp, they agitate this coral snake. And the man swiped at it with an axe. The man that disturbed it, he swiped at it with an axe, but missed, sending the three-foot-long snake directly to Theodore Roosevelt's feet. At the very last moment, he stomped on it, but missed its head, which whipped around and sunk its fangs into his leather boots, dripping milky venom down his feet. It wasn't the day's only close call. Earlier that day, when drifting along the wide, placid river, the rain picked up, increasing the swiftness of the current and propelling them faster than before along

the river. Rounding a bend, they were shocked to see a collection of man-made structures. They were entirely unable to retreat. They were caught off guard and had little time to defend themselves if needed. So instead, they all hit the decks of their boats, bracing themselves for an onslaught of arrows. They all went as still and as silent as possible, likely holding their breath for what could come next,

but nothing did. Raising their heads and peeking carefully over the sides of their balsas, it was clear that this village was abandoned. The huts were being reclaimed by the jungle, and a simple, low-lying bridge spanning the water was crumbling, but it was proof that indigenous groups lived by the river's edge. And with no way to know if they would be hostile, They needed to remain vigilant.

Three days into their time on the river, the routine they had fallen into was disrupted when the gentle rock of the current they had grown accustomed to began to change. The paddlers exchanged knowing looks. Things were about to get spicy. The current was picking up and quickly. The unmistakable sound of rapids roaring suddenly made themselves known, and the group was flung through them. Luckily, without incident.

Their celebrations were short-lived, however, when they rounded a sharp, corner to see frothing white water. They pulled ashore and cut a path along the bank to look at what lay ahead downstream. They were greeted with over a mile of a series of rapids and waterfalls. The river up until that point was fairly wide and lazy, but suddenly was funneled into mere yards, increasing the velocity of the water over the obstacles. The only solution would be a portage, one that would last two and a half days of grueling, back-breaking work to lug their heavy canoes and equipment through the tangled jungle. Matters were only made worse by more feared jungle dwellers, the insects, and their incessant attacks. Roosevelt wrote, quote, utterly trivial compared to the

real dangers of the wilderness, the torment and menace of attacks by the swarming insects, by mosquitoes, and even the more intolerable tiny gnats by the ticks and the vicious, poisonous ants, which occasionally cause villages and even whole districts to be deserted by human beings. These insects and the fevers they cause and the dysentery and starvation and wearing hardship and accidents and rapids are what pioneer explorers have to fear. It's really crazy to think that you're in the middle of the jungle. There are all these creatures out here that can harm you. And insects are actually a huge worry. You know, like not only are they a nuisance, but like you mentioned, they carry diseases that cause really bad illnesses and you're out there. It's like,

yeah, you have to worry about the venomous snakes, but what's more likely to get you are these insects that are carrying bad diseases and have, I don't know, malaria, you know. And in another side tangent, it's not even a side tangent, it's very nice, but that Candace includes in the book, she goes off and talks a lot about different insect born and transmitted diseases and gives kind of context to just how big of a problem it was. And she goes on to talk about how at that time for different expeditions that were laying telegram wire that Rondon was a part of also in the decades prior, up to 80 to 90% of people on those teams contracted malaria or yellow fever or some type of disease of that nature. And it got so bad that at times they had

to just cancel entire expeditions because everyone was so sick and dying. So, and not only is it that they're annoying as hell. I get, they're deadly. They're fatal. Well, yeah. But like aside from that, they're just the amount of swarming and swatting and they're just consistently and always near you. Just around you, touching you, biting you, crawling in your ear.

Yeah, crawling. He went on to describe how their hands and their faces were constantly swollen, bleeding, or infected from insect bites, made work. worst by trudging through the portage route that slashed through alongside the banks of the river. Two and a half days pass and they are finally back on the river, relishing and being carried rather than having to drag when they heard it again. The unmistakable thunder of rapids. The second portage took even longer.

It took three full days to make it 750 yards. So that's why when mere hours after they got into the water again, when once again the current quickened, the water began to churn and another set of rapids came into sight, they just sent it. Not only were they absolutely exhausted from their first two portages, they were concerned about timing and provisions. Remember, they have no idea where this river leads and how long they're going to be out in the jungle. Right, and do they have to come back up these rapids? No. No.

Okay. And they know that at this point? Yes. Okay. And I'll get to that towards the actual very end. But no, they don't have to come back. I was just picturing them hiking all their stuff back up and not being it. And you'd go against the current, I guess, the whole time.

Yeah, no, they're not doing that. Great. So could be a week. Could be six months. They had no idea how long they were supposed to be out there. And their already limited supplies were dwindling. They had been supplementing their food and the rations that they brought when they could with hunting. But finding prey here was much harder.

than they originally anticipated. Every animal was a master of disguise or of escape and proved to be very hard catches. So they sent it through these rapids, they made a gamble, and they won for the most part. They made it through unharmed, although one of their balsas, which were actually two of the smaller canoes that they kind of shmushed together

to make a larger floating balsa, was sank and lost during the process. They pulled to shore, nearly limping onto land, to make it to camp. It was day 12 of their river run, and they had managed to cover only 75 miles. They did that night what they always did. They found a high spot to make camp along the banks, set up for the night, and rested as best as they could. But thankfully, they did something they hadn't done yet. Glancing back at their remaining canoes tied to the shore, as tired and exhausted as they were, they decided to remove all of their supplies and provisions from within the canoes

and brought them ashore before turning in for the night. During the night, it rained, as was typical. But this camp was not in a typical place. It was near the rough waters of the rapids, and that, combined with the slow but steady rise of the river with the heavy rains, caused two of the canoes to fill with water, snap from their moorings, and subsequently were carried down the river and smashed to pieces on the nearby rocks. And they just happened to have grabbed all their year.

Somebody had a feeling. someone's like, maybe we should keep this on hand. Yeah, maybe we should take everything that we're relying on for life and take it with us. And thankfully, that person listened to their intuition. When the team awoke the next day and discovered what had happened, they found themselves at a loss. They were now down to five boats and not enough space to carry their gear, food, equipment, and all of the men, leaving them with two options. Hack their way through the forest or build a new canoe. Neither was a great option, but they elected to strike out in search of a tree large enough to carve out.

One was selected. It was five feet in diameter and 26 feet long. And after arduous, round the clock, backbreaking work, it was hewed out. Roosevelt again was impressed by the skill and endurance of the team, the camaradas, as they were called. All that is, except for one. Julio Delima was the exception, as Roosevelt deemed him lazy, worthless, hot-headed, and unable to keep him. keep up with his fellow companions. But in their predicament, they needed all of the manpower, subpar as it may be, as they could get. Plus, there was no way to send him back even if they got tired. Right. They're like, what are you going to do with them? Be like, go away. Yeah. You're annoying us. Make your way back on your own. The canoe was completed. The team regrouped and relaunched into the river. Once again, they quickly ran into whirlpools and rapids, but in a testament to their desperation,

They ran them all. Rondon even had given up his accurate method of surveying, opting for a quicker, less precise technique. March 15th was to be their first true day of tragedy, but they awoke not sensing it at all. If anything, their spears were high, despite the conditions that they faced. They had spent the previous week sending it through rapids and had been successful, and had the confidence that they could keep that up. That changed when the terrain around them turned from jungle to steep rocky cliff faces. The rapids grew worse, and at one point they could see far enough ahead to visualize waterfalls, so they pulled off where they could to assess what to do next.

Rondon was clear in his command, wait for him to return from his scouting mission. But Kermit was growing tired of waiting. He had agreed to this expedition primarily to watch over his father, but he had a fiancé to get home to, and he was growing tired of all of these delays. Where they had pulled to the banks, a small island divided the river. Kermit, curious if the river was calmer on the other side of the island, ordered his two paddlers to take him there to see for himself. The two paddlers, Jouau and Simplicio, at first denied his request,

staying true to their commander's orders. But Kermit repeated an order of his own, so reluctantly they pushed the canoe off the bank and towards the island. After inspecting the island, Kermit, Jouau, and Simplicio, along with Kermit's dog, Trigero, got back into the canoe, to return to the river's edge, but before they could, they were swept into a whirlpool. They spun uncontrollably straight over a waterfall. Remarkably, the entire boat landed upright with all of its occupants, but it immediately took on a lot of water and was barely floating.

The paddlers dug into the current, making it within reach of the overhanging branches of the banks when the current ripped them away and back into another whirlpool, dumping the boat and everyone into the water. Jouao managed to grab a hold of the thick mooring rope and made purchase on the rocky shore. He was struggling with all of his might to pull the boat and the men clinging to it to the shore, but the rope was ripped from his hands, sending it the two men and the dog over a second waterfall. Not the dog. And the men. And the men. But not this is also, yep, the dog's mourning are harmed in this story. Not right now. Not right now. Not Right now. Okay. But that's a really important warning. For me as well, but for just mentally listening, prepare.

Prepare. No. So are men. But. I'm just kidding. That's also devastating, but yeah. The dog. Roosevelt, sitting in his canoe above the first set of falls, watched in horror as all of this unfolded. The impact over the falls splintered the boat into pieces, losing all of its valuable contents, including 10 days, worth of food and valuable boat building tools, while Kermit and Simplicio struggled for their lives in the water. The team scrambled across the banks in desperate search for the men, but it was the dog that they spotted first. Drenched and exhausted, but alive on the riverbank downstream. Next, they spotted Kermit. He had made it out, though he fought hard for his life and almost lost it, only saving himself by snatching hold of a branch and hauling himself to safety.

Within minutes, Zhuaz staggered into view as well, but Simplicio had not been seen since he was going over the falls. Ensuing searches yielded nothing. And the next day, when they packed up to move on, they carved a simple, somber message into their camp marker. In these rapids, died poor Simplicio before walking away. Rondon was furious at the blatant disregard of his orders.

not only did it cost a young man's life, but valuable resources as well. With 21 men in five canoes, there was no choice but for some of them to walk. Rondon gave marching orders for the day, and satisfied that they were actually being followed, he took his favorite dog, Lobo, deeper into the forest behind their camp to try and hunt for food. Rondon had been hard on his men throughout the years, and had made a reputation for himself of being cold towards his charges, but he had a heart for dogs. He typically had two dozen of them at his camps and was deeply fond of them. He would stop marches to give them rest over the humans, carried them when necessary,

cared for them and tended to their every need, and mourned deeply when they died, more so than when humans were killed. Amongst dogs, he was more at peace and more in sync than with any other human he had ever encountered. As he and Lobo made their way through the forest, Lobo excitedly took off ahead of him, likely chasing after the call of a monkey that had cried out moments prior. But before Rondon could catch up, he heard a high-pitched yelp. Worried a jaguar had gotten hold of his friend, he rushed to his aid, only to stop in his tracks by what he heard next.

Human voices. More specifically, the whoops and hollers of war cries. He instinctually crouched into the vegetation, hoping to conceal himself to the group. Remaining invisible was his only chance of survival. seconds later Lobo, the ever-faithful companion, returned to his master, staggering with two long feathered arrows jutting out of his body. His position revealed Rondon stood and fired his weapon into the air, hoping to scare this group away. When the voices only grew closer, he did it again, but to no avail. He couldn't see them, but their voices were clear as a bell now.

sticking to his virtue of never engaging violently, he turned and ran back towards camp. Breathless upon arrival, he told everyone of his close encounter and was only met with more bad news. During a portage, another one of the boats was lost. Concerning, yes, but not as unnerving as his experience with the group of indigenous warriors. He gathered a handful of men and returned, retracing his steps to the scene of the attack. They came across a few items that the people had left behind. and knowing they'd return at some point for them, Rondon offered gifts of his own, an axe and some beads as an offering. Something to convey, we come in peace.

Up until this point, Rondon's best guess was that they were still traveling through Numbachara territory, but after following a blood trail and coming across Lobo's body, did that change. The little dog had tried to make it back to camp, but succumbed to his injuries before he could make it. Rondon leaned down to inspect his fallen friend, and the arrows protruding from his body told the story. They were five feet long, made of bamboo and sharp barbed points, decorated with hawk feathers and braided pekary hair. These were not the work of the Namaquara. In fact, they hadn't come from the hands of any of the dozens of tribes Rondon had come into contact with over the last 25 years. Even more concerning than Rondon not knowing them, they did not know him, or his people.

peaceful intentions. In the early 1500s, the first European explorers made their way to the South American content and began claiming land for themselves, killing hundreds of indigenous rulers and enslaving thousands more. Over time, many more foreigners came, leaving ruin and destruction in their wake

for thousands and millions of indigenous peoples, especially when the discovery of what the indigenous population had known for centuries. The quote-unquote discovery of what we know today as rubber. Diseased and enslavement decimated pockets of indigenous tribes, but some survived, hidden so far into the dense jungle that they remained untouched. Rondon, Roosevelt, and the others couldn't have known it then, but they had come across what anthropologists today refer to as the Sinta Larga. Portuguese for Wide Belt, a reference to the strips of

bark they would wrap around their waists. They had not, in fact, stumbled across them, though. They were lured. The Sinta Larga had been watching the expedition for days. Masters of their environment, they moved stealthily and undetected, keeping eyes on the strange men that crashed through their forest. The Sintillarga had never seen a white person before, or any other person of non-indigenous descent. Not only had they been concealed by the thick jungle for hundreds of years, but the river as well, the dangerous rapids and extreme difficulty the river presented to the expedition proved to be impossible to navigate

by earlier explorers. As a result, the Sinta Larga were essentially in a time capsule. They used the simplest forms of tools, more no clothing, and despite living alongside the river, had not yet constructed boats. They were different, but in no way,

inferior. They had their own distinct culture, forms of government and rules. They were expert navigators, reading the forest, and trailblazing through an environment that would disorient and swallow anyone else. They harness the power of the jungle by becoming part of it. Not only were they expert hunters, they lured their prey. Often by mimicking sounds of other animals so well, it was near impossible to distinguish their calls from the true animals' vocalizations. And that's what the monkey was.

Yeah. The dog was going after. They had not developed fishing line and hooks, but fished with ease by using baskets and a liquid extracted from vines that acted as a paralytic to the fish, making spearing them like shooting fish in a barrel. They also cultivated the land, growing crops such as yams and sweet potatoes for a time, before moving on to a new piece of land and starting again. With no written language, ceremonial guides and oral traditions were their way of record keeping and how they passed along knowledge. The fact that they did not have a single chief or ruler is what likely saved the expedition team from certain. death. Each Sintillarga village, which had about three to five families each, was completely

autonomous from the larger tribe, and each family had their own chief. They had been silently observing the expedition for so long, in fact, that they had time to argue about what to do about them. Some wanted to remain invisible to the outsiders, while others believed that they should attack them for invading their territory, and then looted for their belongings. But since all of their decisions were made by consensus and none could be made, that unknowingly kept Roosevelt, Rondon, Kermit, and the others alive, at least for the moment. I can only imagine what they were thinking, watching them, while they're losing all their gear, struggling to navigate their surroundings, and you have this indigenous group just have

never seen people like this before, like, what's happening, what is going on with these people? Yeah. And once again, Candace goes off on. to more detail about how it got to the point that they were so startled by what they were seeing. They were like almost like aliens of who are these people. And the women within the tribes would tell their children, they started telling their children not to stray too far off because if you do, you can turn into like whatever those creatures are with all the facial hair. Because they didn't have much body hair or facial hair. So like even seeing these scraggly,

rugged people, they just looked so other that they were like, these are monsters. And you better be careful of them. It was just like so interesting to read about this group of people in particular. And she goes into such detail about them. I just had to mention some of it to give context to this. Yeah. That's so interesting to hear that. Hear from a perspective of someone who is not familiar with this civilization and doesn't know what a president is or you know like doesn't know who these people are to be looking from the outside in and be like what what is going on over there what are you doing they probably why do you look like that not only were they like who are you why do you look like that they were literally stumbling through an environment that they have had mastered a thousand

years ago. Well, like you said, they've been following them for days and they haven't picked up on it even slightly. Even the dog, it sounds like, didn't pick up on it. And that says a lot. And that says a lot. Not only were they fortunate that the Sintillarga had decided to leave them be, at least for the moment, they were very lucky because the Sintillarga were also cannibals. Oh. Yes. And they had very strict rules and various codes of conduct for the practice. But long story short, the expedition team would have been very fair game for such a ceremonial meal. So they met the criteria. They sure did.

Rondon did not know who the Sintelaga were at the time, but he had enough experience with indigenous peoples of the jungle to know that they were at a significant disadvantage. He continued to leave gifts as peace offerings as they traveled, but also posted guards to look over the team at night. The team is now down to four canoes and 21 men. With no trees suitable for boat construction in their immediate area at the time, they were forced, yet again, to leave behind nearly everything that wasn't essential for survival. And knowing the dozens of eyes peering at them from the jungle just out of sight, they pushed on, half of them paddling boats and the other half bushwhacking. By now, Kermit's shoes were almost entirely disintegrated from off of his feet, and he was also struggling with malaria.

Everyone's legs were slashed to pieces, swollen with insect bites, and speckled with bruises. Strips of canvas were attempted to bring some solace and used as makeshift's shoes and leg wraps because their clothes, they don't have any changes of clothes now. They only have food. They've ditched everything else. Like, we just need food to survive. Yep. So all of their clothes are starting to rip and tear and expose their bare flesh. So they tried to wrap some of their extremities in canvas, but it was useless because the rain would get it sopping wet, the mud on the trail.

And it was just a perfect concoction for infection and disease. This expedition sounds horrendous. It just gets so much worse. Like, it just keeps getting way, way worse. Perfect. The rapids were relentless and portages were netheres. necessary almost every single day. Hunting was not going well and they were beginning to starve. The clothing they were all wearing was like I just said in tatters and hanging loosely over their

rapidly slimming frames. They hadn't even made it 90 miles down the river but had eaten through a third of their provisions, forcing them to eat even less than before. It was maddening being surrounded by so much life, both plant and animal that could sustain them for many lifetimes over if they only knew how to harness it. They were now officially starving, and their conversations soon became consumed with food, how to find it, or dreaming of dishes from home and the first meals that they would have when they got there. But as time went on, the conversations between the officers, Rondon, Roosevelt, Kermit, and Sherry in particular, took on a very serious tone. Most of them doubted they would ever make it out alive. But they, and in particular, Roosevelt,

did not show their concern outwardly to the camaradas. Moral was of the utmost importance to maintain. It was dangerously easy to fall into the despair of their situation and the grueling, unrelenting conditions. But if that happened, it would be a death sentence. Disorder would be their undoing, and already smoldering tempers would flare. They made their way onward,

coming across recently deserted villages and trails utilized by their occupants, a constant reminder that they were not alone. Rondon was desperate to ensure positive relations with the people of the forest and was taking time and care to do so. Roosevelt, on the other hand, was over it. By now, he was determined more than ever to get home and minimize any additional danger. The two men argued about it. Rondon still adamant, despite the conditions,

that they continued to do the right thing by mapping the river accurately and surveying its surroundings. Roosevelt insisted that the expedition keep moving and forego the survey work. In his mind, the time had passed for all of that. In a perfect world, that's what he was down there to do. But this wasn't going perfectly, and people's lives were on the line. Of his biggest concern, Kermit's. He felt that if they could just take some rough observations of the river from now on, it could provide enough basis for others to come back in the future for further and more complete study.

Rondon eventually obliged but was very unhappy about it. When they came upon trees suitable for boat building, they took the opportunity to delegate its construction and also to take account of their provisions. It was then that they discovered they were missing 15 boxes of their emergency rations. While it was possible that more than one of the men could have been responsible for that, they doubted it, as all their suspicion landed on one person in particular. And that was Julio. Julio's just gaining weight and doing well.

Funny you should say that. Wait, really? My literal next sentence, he was the only man of the entire team who had kept his physique and was not trusted with anything. He was already known to devour anything he found in the forest himself instead of bringing it back to be equally divided and shared amongst the others. And while they couldn't prove that he stole this food, they knew it was him. and they kept an extra eye on him from then on. And on they went. Portage after portage to avoid the relentless and seemingly endless rapids of the river.

But now a month into their river portion of their journey, with the accumulation of disease, hunger, fear, and exhaustion, they were becoming more difficult to deal with, both physically and mentally. Kermit showed an impressive amount of dedication to the expedition, was always at the lead to help and the first to maintain a we can do it attitude. but he wasn't alone. Alongside him were others, including a man named Pajan.

He stood out amongst the camaradas. He was strong in both body and spirit and was a natural born leader. He had worked for Rondon's previous expeditions laying telegraph wire and had proved his character time and time again, both in the past and in their present. So when Julio came, in tears, to Rondon and Roosevelt, exclaiming that Pichan had punched him in the face, they knew that he must have had a valid reason to do so. And he did. Turns out, Julio was caught by Pichon stealing food. And given their circumstances, that was a very serious offense. Yeah, they're running low on food. They're already out there for a month. Everyone's losing weight. And then...

They're starving. You're going to get punched in the face. That's the least... I can't even believe that's all that happened. But... And Roosevelt, who was at his absolute wits end with this guy... Because remember, from the very get-go, he was like, I have my eyes on this guy. He seems to... different. He seems shasty. Well, he's also a little racist, so. Well, yes, but it was his character. It was his character that he was keeping an eye on. He suggested they just shoot him. Ruthless. He can't be trusted. He's stealing food for sure.

Like, we already suspected that. He's difficult to work with. He doesn't pull his weight. He's causing problems. He's putting our lives in jeopardy. I mean, honestly, even though it's pretty ruthless. to say that. But if he is jeopardizing your own life by taking the only food that you have and hoarding it for himself instead of sharing it amongst the group, which could theoretically shorten your life by weeks, it's not the worst. I understand the suggestion. I don't condone it, but I understand it, especially in a survival situation. Right. Because this is not a typical. They're not out in the woods somewhere where someone's going to come. A rescue team's going to find them. You know, like this is way back

when it's life for death period yeah rondon on the other hand was more sympathetic and it was decided that punishment wasn't an option given their circumstances like he was adamant he's like i'm not going to kill the guy and what else are we going to do that we can't put him in jail there's no jail yeah like we can keep an eye on him and that's about it make him do more labor he's the most fit now make him work off those calories he's been hoarding yeah would be my suggestion yeah The next couple of days turned around. The weather was on their side as the rains relented and some of the men caught game and fish for the first time of the entire trip. It was a welcome reprieve for the team, but as Sherry noted in his journal, by his calculations, they likely had three or four times the amount of distance left to go.

They had traveled less than 100 miles and had now gone through half of their food. Less than 100 miles in over a month on the river. Not a great start. Not even start, but just not great all around. It's a very depressing realization. On the heels of their feast day, in yet another set of rapids, two of their canoes caught in vines and were ripped into the current. They were still visible this time, but being pummeled by the water and were starting to slowly sink.

At this point, everything was critical. Everything was worth saving if there was a chance. So every available man jumped in to save it, but were struggling against the current. in the slick rocks. Roosevelt jumped in to assist, despite suffering a high fever in weaking condition from malaria. But there was another thing that no one knew but his son that would soon prove to be a very, very big problem. For the previous 12 years, ever since a near fatal trolley accident in 1902, he had only one strong leg. His left leg had been crushed, and while doctors had been able to save it in the moment, they advised him that it would from then on be a source of concern.

concern, and especially prone to infection or injury. So, when amongst the struggles of trying to save these boats, Roosevelt slipped and scraped his shin on the sharp edge of a river rock and began pouring blood into the water, he knew it was about to be bad, and bad it was. They were able to rescue the boats, but now it was clear that Roosevelt was the one in need of saving. Within hours, he went from one of the strongest men on the team to essentially being an invalid. He was unable to walk on his own. Infection already took hold at the wound and his fever spiked. He sweat profusely and was barely able to sit up from his cot without assistance. While his condition worsened, the rest of the team worked hard to fight their biggest obstacle yet, a massive gorge, a mile

long with steep, sheer cliffs on either side of a series of six massive waterfalls. Rondon had set out teams to survey the area, but gathered everyone with sombering news shortly after. He said, quote, We shall have to abandon our canoes, and every man will fight for himself through the forest. The team was stunned and terrified. To all it seemed, as Sherry later wrote in his journal, a death sentence. They were terrified of being lost, and as one Polish explorer once wrote of being lost in the Amazon, quote, The jungle is jealous and voracious. Of all the possible deaths a man can die in the jungle, the most dreaded is that which results from being lost.

At the top of mind for Rondon, Sherry, and Kermit weren't the men in their fears of getting lost in the jungle, but for Roosevelt. His condition had worsened and he was growing weaker by the hour. With his new revelation of their predicament at the gorge, they and Roosevelt himself knew that he would never make it. Everyone was distraught, worried, defeated, and at a complete loss. But Roosevelt was crystal clear. Not only was he unafraid to die, he would never be the reason that anyone else. else did. He had always lived by that belief throughout all of his other expeditions and times where that line of thinking must be considered. In fact, he always carried with him during such risky

adventures a small, lethal bottle of morphine, saying, quote, I have always made it a practice on such trips to take a bottle of morphine with me, because no one knows what is going to happen. If death became inevitable, I would have it over with at once, without going through a long, drawn-out agony from which death was the only relief. That's an interesting thing to bring with you, but also I feel like maybe it would feel a little tempting in times like this journey where you have so many struggles and you're like, I'm going to die out here. Like when's the moment you decide? It was now. Now is his moment because this trip was no different and he had tucked his precaution with him in his spare socks as he was packing in New York,

and now he was ready to use it. For him, it wasn't about ending his life. It was about doing the right and necessary thing to save others. Roosevelt was a firm believer that no man, himself included, should ever jeopardize or endanger the lives of the rest of a team. As the night went on and his condition worsened, he pulled Sherry and his son to his cot side, as serious as ever, saying,

boys, I realize that some of us are not going to finish this journey. Sherry, I want you and Kermit to go on. You can get out and I will stop here. Wow, that's very admirable and very brave. For the first time in his entire life, Kermit disobeyed his father and refused to grant his wishes. He was absolutely determined to get his father to safety no matter the cost. He formulated a plan to get the party and their belongings over and around the steep cliffs.

Ordering the group into smaller parties, he organized a team to lower the canoes over the falls with a rope, one to cut a path through the jungle around the falls, and one to start transporting their gear. It took four days of grueling work, but it was successful. With Roosevelt useless to help, he began giving more of his rations to the camaradas, the ones that were doing the most work, leaving him with essentially a saltine and a mouthful of fish and a cup of coffee per day. Ew. Good combo, right? Ew. Okay, a saltine's good. Coffee's great. Fish is all right. A mouth.

The way you described it, a salteen and a mouth full of fish. Like a scoop, a little nibble. Oh. Give me the morphine. On the morning of April 3rd, the team found themselves at what felt like their thousandth portage, and there was a similar divide amongst the group to get over another sheer cliff. One man was left at the previous night's camp to keep guard of all of their cargo and belongings that was being slowly carted off by another team to another location.

So they had kind of like a relay thing going on. And this man that was guarding all of their provisions discovered Julio, once again, stealing food. He reported the theft immediately to Paishan, who with no other option for punishment, just gave him a harsh verbal reprimand. A short time later, while Kermit and Sherry were stationed at the midway point in the chain, looking over Roosevelt, they saw Julio stride right up to their cargo pile, grab a rifle, and walk back from where he came from. And this was not abnormal. Many men carried rifles or grabbed one if they saw any sort of game in the jungle. The men exchanged hopeful looks. Perhaps Julio had spotted something to eat. A few minutes later, they heard a single shot and their mouths practically watered. But only moments later, three camaradas breathlessly ran to them exclaiming that Julio had killed Pichon.

This roused everyone immediately, even giving the ailing Roosevelt a rush of adrenaline. All three armed themselves and set off to investigate to find Pichon's body splayed face down on the trail with a single bullet through his heart. Julio had fled into the jungle and a hunt for him was immediately dispatched. Through their investigation, they found where he had hidden himself in the thick vegetation. right off the trail and waited for his victim, and where he had taken off deeper into the jungle after he committed the crime. In the heat of the moment, likely after hearing the rest of the team shouting after him, he panicked and ran, losing his rifle in the process.

They continued the search for him, but they were unsuccessful in locating him. Knowing he was unarmed eased their minds a little bit, but knowing that a murderer was on the loose and one that was dependent on them in their supplies and was guaranteed to be lurking nearby, put them all on edge. Both Rondon and Roosevelt were furious, but maintained different views at what should be done about him. Roosevelt wanted to find him and kill him, stating, quote, he who kills must die. That's how it is in my country. But Rondon fought back.

This was not Roosevelt's country. It was his. And in Brazil, he retorted, if someone commits a crime he has tried, not murdered. He wanted to find Julio in a point. the laws of the Brazilian government, not any sort of wilderness law. While their argument escalated, they paused to give Pichon a dignified burial, but with no tools, they had to scrape at the earth with their bare hands to dig his grave. That evening, the expedition doctor, doubted that Roosevelt would survive the night and prepared everyone for the worst. His heart rate had spiked while his blood

pressure dropped and his temperature rose to over 103 degrees. His skin paled and his infected leg oozed and blistered. He was shivering uncontrollably and unable to speak above a whisper. The doctor had some basic supplies on hand, but they weren't helping much. And if anything, was barely staving off the combination of illnesses that were compounding in the former president's body. What he really needed was antibiotics. But penicillin, one of the first antibiotics to ever hit the market wasn't even discovered for another 14 years, leaving his only treatment, repeated injections of quinine, an early anti-malarial drug. We're like, here, just take this. We don't know what it's going to do, but maybe it'll do something. His repeated requests to be left to die were

ignored, and by the next day, his temperature had gone down to hover around 100, mustering every ounce of strength he had left, he continued on with his team. For three more days, they were repeated much of the same. They ran the river, encountered deadly rapids, commenced a strenuous and lengthy series of portages, while endangering themselves in both the water and land, all while being paranoid of the Sinta Larga, all while suffering dysentery, malaria, exhaustion, and starvation at minimum. And I just summarized about 50 pages for you. On April 6th, they had reached a point in the river that they were able to sit back in their canoes and float, thankful to be carried by the water peacefully, but then suddenly they heard a voice in the banks.

Signor colonel. Signor colonel. It sounded rugged and anguished. Following the sounds, their eyes laid upon Julio, clinging desperately to a tree branch overhanging the water. I'm surprised he's still with him. I'm not at all. Where is he going to go? Yeah, but he doesn't have access to their food anymore. I mean, he's a little sneaky snake. He's slinking in and out. That's true. Or he's literally starving to death. and he's desperate, you know, coming forward, yeah. He began begging for their help, their forgiveness, and their mercy. After three days and nights alone in the jungle, he had been rattled and likely been given

a rude awakening at just how much he needed the people that he had turned on. Rondon's canoe passed by him first, and Rondon coldly and plainly stated he couldn't possibly stop for him and turned his attention back to his survey charts. The following canoes, surprised. Yeah. Yep. The following canoes carrying Roosevelt and the other men gave even less. Everyone refused to even glance at Julio. So on they went, leaving a horrified Julio alone and doomed to die in the jungle. That evening at camp, Rondon and Roosevelt got into the worst argument of the expedition over what to do about Julio. Rondon advocated to take men and precious time into the jungles to locate him, while Roosevelt, vehemently opposed that. Not only did he believe Julio should die regardless, whether it be in the jungle or by his own hands, putting men in danger and dedicating precious time and resources to Julio was the absolute last thing he thought should happen. In the end, Rondon won out, and a team

was sent out to try and find him. They repeatedly called his name, they fired their weapons into their air, and even made signal fires. But after a full day of search, they came back empty-handed. It was surmised that Julio perhaps tried his luck with the only other people around, the Sintillarga. According to one of the first known accounts of an outsider seeking help from the Sintillarga came from many years later, in which a lost English engineer sought their aid after stumbling upon one of their villages. Starving and on the brink of death with nothing else to offer, he gifted them his only possession, his knife, in hopes to show his appreciation and good intentions. The Sintillarga accepted the gift, and exchange gave him food.

After watching him eat his meal, one of the men walked up behind him and using the gifted knight slit his throat. So needless to say, Julio likely fared about the same if that was indeed what he attempted to do. But regardless of what happened to him, we will never know,

because Julio Delima was never seen again. That's what happens when you're not a good team player and you try and ruin the chances of your teammates' survival. It's like, you can't say I feel bad. singular can't think for yourself in a situation like that like yeah where your survival depends on working together with other people that you agreed to be out with right and i understand i can't put myself in the same shoes i'm not there and i've never been in a situation similar to that but i mean even under the highest stresses to be sneaking around and not helping your teammates and

I understand sneaking food occasionally, like a little bit here and there. If you're starving and things are really tough, but not helping and really putting himself any favors. No. He was doing everything wrong. Yeah, he was. And it's just, I don't know, I can see it for sure. But at the same time, to actually lock eyes with somebody who is so desperate and you know you're basically signing their death warrant by not helping them. That's a whole. another level of commitment to like, yeah, you got to go. You know what I mean? Yeah. It's rough. It's ruthless. But at the same time, they killed someone that they all cared about. That's true. By this time, the men had traveled about 200 miles and estimated they had about 200 more to go until they reached a fork in the river where they hoped relief would come. 200 miles? We are creeping. How long? How far are they going? Well, they don't know. They don't know. Remember? 200 more miles until a fork in the river.

So hang on. Like maybe Julio had it right. Maybe. She's like, I got it. He's like, I'm done. I'm done here. Prior to the expedition, in anticipation of needing resupply or aid, Rondon had arranged for backup. Lieutenant Pyreneus and his platoon would be waiting at a pre-designated spot. Looking at his team, Rondon doubted if they'd ever make it, but they pushed forward. On April 11th, the team stopped to look for Kermit's dog, who had left out of his canoe the day prior.

And while the decision annoyed Rondon and the Brazilian officers who had been given a lot of flack for wanting to pause the expedition for what they deemed to be more important pursuits like surveying the river or locating a human being, Julio, something amazing came out of this delay. While some of the team went off to find the dog, others tried their hand at fishing, and while doing so came across telltale signs of rubber tapers. It was the first sign of people, other than the Sintillarga, that they had seen in over a month, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Hours later, with the dog in hand, they paddled onwards, fingers crossed to find the help they desperately needed. It was days until they finally came across a house and a small hut dedicated to rubber production. The men nearly cried in relief.

But once again, their hopes were dashed when they discovered the home deserted. Peaking inside the windows, they saw food. But Rondon, ever the law-abiding man, did not allow his men to touch it without permission from the homeowner. So they went on. What? This is a survival situation and they're all starving. Can't you leave a note that says, I'm so sorry I was dying. I'll pay you back.

I mean, as a reader of this book, with more understanding of like the atmosphere around this type of thing, this isn't like somebody's house that can go down to the grocery store. Like a lot of these people, these rubber tappers, are not doing well themselves and are on the brink of starvation. Like they are too also way out here. So he was, he was really concerned that by taking something, it would be dooming somebody else. Okay, that makes more sense. About a mile downstream, they encountered a small canoe and a rubber-tapper in it. The worker, Ramundo Jose Marquise, did not expect to see anyone that day, or pretty much ever, coming from upstream. He knew of the Sintillarga and the dangers that they posed and expected if anyone was to be coming from that direction on the river, it would be them.

In response to the flotilla approaching him, he panicked and paddled away, fearing for his life. Rondon, sensing his fear, stood up and waved his hat, shouting words of reassurance. And Ramundo was startled to see them, but looked like this rag-tag group of Brazilians and Americans on the brink of death. They were filthy, diseased, and starving. And unfortunately, he didn't have anything to offer them. As he was so impoverished himself, he had nothing to spare. But he did offer hope. There were villages just downstream that would have what they needed.

And he was right. Just downstream they came across a home, and this time there was smoke coming from the chimney, a soft glow of light coming from the windows, and children playing outside. Ramundo had advised the men to fire their rifle three times in quick succession, followed by a blow of a horn to convey their peaceful intent. As they didn't have a horn, he gifted them one and sent them along their way. But before the men could signal appropriately, the children spotted them and absolutely freaked out. Their village had been attacked by the Sintillarga in the past, and everyone knew where they came from, and it was exactly where the expedition was emerging from. The children ran inside and alerted their mother, who quickly gathered them up and ran as fast as she could, screaming and tripping and falling all over the muddy banks to her neighbor's home to sound the alarm. While all that chaos was unfolding, and the men in the village were assembling, Rondon pulled the team ashore, and with little choice left with a dying ex-president.

and starving group of men entered the home without permission. And to quote Candace Millard in the book, she says, quote, stepping inside Horanato, who is the woman's husband that eventually comes back to his house, found Theodore Roosevelt and Brazil's greatest explorer resting in his home while a group of starving, exhausted men made dinner over his wife's fire. Imagine you're like, hello? Okay, hello? Not only are you not the Sintillarga who I think are about to murder me and my entire family and everybody that I love.

Like he knows who Theodore. At this point in time, most people know who Theodore Roosevelt was. And Rondon is famous in Brazil. So he knows who they are. He's just like making dinner in his home. And he's like, um. Can I help you? And all is well from there, the family not only graciously welcomed the men, but provided them with provisions to,

additional canoes and help them hire a guide for the rest of their journey, which lasted another 15 days. Shut up. I'm going to condense it because... It's not even worth it at that point. If they were like, you only have 15 days left, I'm like, that... God, can I move in? Give me the morphie.

With the help of the guide, they were able to buy additional provisions along the way at various small villages and had much needed expertise with navigating the rest. river and help portaging and completing their journey. What the guide did not help with, however, was locating a hospital because none existed anywhere nearby. The doctor had been advocating to perform surgery on Roosevelt's leg for days at this point, but Roosevelt constantly postponed his inquiries, hoping that they'd reach help or he'd start to improve on his own. It wasn't the pain that he was worried about, despite the lack of, you know, any anesthetic, but rather the swarming insects and less than ideal operating environment. The pain and infection, though, had gotten so bad that

he finally relented, and on April 16th, he allowed the doctor with the assistance of Kermit to perform a procedure. The operating room was a muddy bank alongside the river, and using the most basic and probably the dirtiest, unsterile surgical tools on earth. And of course, no anesthetic. Kermit swatted away the swarms of flies and insects that hovered around his father's leg, while the doctor used his blade to slice into the wound, releasing pus and clotted blood. This surgery was temporary, and over the next few days, the infection not only did not lessen in severity, it actually spread. It's like, oh, did it.

You're not saying. You don't say, you don't say under those conditions. It's like, how did that happen? Yeah, he started, he not only did it spread on, it was like he started getting abscesses on his butt. And like, it was bad. It's not going well. It's not going great at all. That's always, I don't know if I said that before.

Anytime I do pub trivia or something, our team name is always, it's not looking good. I really have said that. Yeah. To make matters worse, he had lost a quarter of his body weight in the last three months of the expedition. And his body was struggling to keep going. The time constraint that they had both. had squeezed tighter now. Now it was every hour that counted, not just every day. That's why when they encountered one of what was to be their final stretches of rapids and portages and Kermit's dog

wandered off into the jungle and couldn't be recalled, Kermit had to tearfully leave his friend behind. His father was dying and his life mattered more. Just days later, on April 26th, they finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel, as the lieutenant and his six men had a indeed established camp where Rondon had instructed them to do months prior. They had been waiting for six weeks for the expedition to arrive and were near calling it quits and calling them a lost cause until they finally saw them paddling into view. But thanks to them, the Sintillaraga sparing their lives, Roosevelt wearing boots when he was bitten by a coral snake, and an untold other number of circumstances that went just right with an

endless amount of near misses that were somehow bestowed onto them, they were saved. From there, things happened in a whirlwind. Roosevelt was immediately transported to Manouse on the bank of the Negro River in the northwestern portion of Brazil. It was an area that served as a major departure point, but most importantly, it had a hospital. He was stabilized and then loaded via stretcher onto a steamer ship bound for the U.S. Three weeks after the expedition team caught sight of the lieutenant, they were pulling into the New York Harbor. Roosevelt's homecoming was an occasion for the ages. His return was international news and

everybody rejoiced, but they also scrutinized and questioned the legitimacy of the expedition. Unbelievably, several people, including some of the world's most prominent and respected geographers, were the first to pipe up. Despite being what the papers described as a shadow of himself, clearly recovering from what was an arduous, near-death three-month journey in the Amazon, the accomplishments and details of the expedition's journey were called into question and very publicly. Imagine going through all of that and then you get home and people are like, did you really? Did you really do that?

Did that happen? The rage, I would feel. For example, Sir Clements Markham, former president of the Royal Geographical Society and the man who sent Robert Scott to the South Pole, nearly scoffed to the. New York world, stating, quote, it's certainly a very remarkable story. I feel somewhat incredulous as to Colonel Roosevelt having actually discovered a new river nearly a thousand miles long. While some mocked and questioned his and his team's accomplishments, others stated they think he merely studied previous explorers printed reports of their own journeys and mimic them to the press.

And then starved himself. Essentially saying that he read reports of other expeditions and faked the details of his own to mirror similarities. But there were 21 other people that were with him. And he's on the brink of death had surgery. I'm sure his leg still looks not great. He's actually almost still dying, first of all. Or like, liar. Other people died and are buried at the banks of these rivers.

They were, yeah. The gall. Yes. The gall. Roosevelt found out about the slander even before he reached New York. and he was pissed. After recovering from the most serious effects of his illness, he was quick to set the record straight. Starting in May, he began giving extensive, detailed speeches to groups such as National Geographic and the Royal Geographic Society, both in the U.S. and abroad. In attendance,

were often members of the expedition, including Sherry, the naturalist who was at first hesitant to join the journey and was very wary of Roosevelt's intentions, but somebody who wound up being one of his closest friends and strongest allies. Every speaking engagement was packed, so much so, in fact, that the rooms were overflowing and people were constantly turned away at the doors. His speeches were essentially mic drop moments, and everyone who initially doubted him went silent or retracted their statements entirely, especially after his book, through the Brazilian wilderness was published, which I also read excerpts of. I couldn't read both, but he does have a firsthand an account complete book that's available online for you to read if you want like from his perspective.

Very interesting. In the years that followed the expedition, Roosevelt went back to work in politics and the military, but never fully recovered from the illness he contracted in the Amazon. From then forward, he was a weakened man and continued to suffer from what he referred to as his old Brazilian trouble. By 1918, four years after his final grand adventure, Roosevelt's health took a sharp decline, and on January 6th, 1919, he passed away in bed at his home in Sagamore Hill at the age of 60, and for many who were left behind that loved him, life was never the same. Kermit's life after the expedition is a very sad one. He went on to Mary Bell, but their relationship was very tumultuous.

Kermit suffered from mental health problems, which many people have suspected may have had some sort of hereditary component because his father's only brother, Elliot, had similar struggles. Kermit grappled with financial hardship and alcoholism, which only worsened following his father's death, which devastated him beyond measure. In 1941, he was sent to Alaska after the attack on Pearl Harbor to assist with the war effort, where he accompanied airmen on missions to bomb Japanese strongholds in the Aleutian Islands. In June of 1943, he had a conversation with a friend while at Port Richardson up in Alaska and expressed that he was tired

and wished he could sleep. His words held a deeper meaning though, as that evening he ended his life with a revolver. He was 52 years old. George Sherry continued his work in South America for several more years following the expedition, collecting more than a hundred thousand birds for study

over his lifetime. As much as he loved his work and the travel and adventure opportunities that that travel provided, he loved his home in Vermont just as much. He happily retired there and spent his final years happily surrounded by his family until his death in 1948 at 83 years old. Vermont. Yeah.

What part? I feel like we might have mentioned this before. What part of Vermont? I didn't write it down and I'm kicking myself because I had a feeling you would ask. But he does have a particular farm. They refer to his farm in Vermont. So I can off air, I'll let you know. But it's funny because when they were starting to starve and really daydreaming about food and like what they want.

and what they were going to eat when they got home. He said maple syrup and pancakes. I'm like that is such a Vermonter thing to say. Candido Rondon returned from the expedition a hero and remained one for the rest of his life. He was adored by his country not only for his work on the expedition, but his decades of work in Amazonian exploration beforehand and afterwards. He was repeatedly asked to run for office, but he repeatedly declined, focusing rather on being an advocate for indigenous rights. His legacy in indigenous rights are felt in the form today

within the National Indian Foundation and its work to ensure the rights of indigenous peoples are respected and protected and the work they do to preserve indigenous land, culture, and traditional ways of life. He was promoted several times within the military and was even nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize by Albert Einstein. In 1956, the Brazilian government renamed a territory in his honor. What we know today as Rondonia, is nearly twice the size of England. In 1992, the Rondonia National Forest was established and named in his honor as part of Brazil's broader efforts to protect the Amazon rainforest and promote sustainable land use practices in the region. Brazil's national hero died at home

surrounded by family in 1958 at the age of 92. And it wasn't until the 1960s, after we had successfully landed on the moon, that the Sintillarga had their first official contact with the outside world, an interaction that was chronicled by National Geographic. Stories of the expedition and the strange men that the Sintillarga encountered alongside the river in 1914 remains a story that is shared generation to generation amongst their people. Expeditions to travel the same route as the Roosevelt-Rondon expedition of 1913 to 1914 in the years following their return failed miserably. Several turned back before they could make it very far. others disappeared entirely, swallowed and never spit out of the jungle.

The River of Doubt, the Rio da Duvita, was renamed by the Brazilian government to Rio Roosevelt. It bears landmarks, canyons, rapids, tributaries, and more named after people from this expedition, including Simplicio, Paisian, and Kermit. As of 2025, Brazil has over 70 national parks, some of which Rio Roosevelt flows right past or through. But here in the U.S., there are several national park sites dedicated to the former president, including theodore Roosevelt inaugural National Historic Site in Buffalo, Theodore Roosevelt Birthplace National Historic Site in New York City, and Sagamore Hill National Historic Site on Long Island, and of course, Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota. But as we discussed, many parks and

public lands, even if they don't bear his name, bear his legacy, and the love that he had for the wild, whether it be in the badlands of the Dakotas or in the jungles of the Amazon, that love lives on. And that is the story. Partially. Partially, except for the rest of the book. Of the Ron Don Roosevelt Expedition of 1913 and 1914. Well, I'm so happy you covered it because I've seen it recommended quite a bit from listeners. And the book itself comes up in my recommended reads.

a lot when I'm looking and it's a really interesting story. And I think it's also incredibly interesting because I think especially these days when we think of presidents, we think of these very rich political men who have worked in offices their entire lives. And you don't hear this other side of really being like anyone else who would go on an expedition and face these hardships and it doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't matter that you're the ex-president in another country when you're really facing the elements of the outdoors. So I thought it was a really fun way to look at a president in a way that I've never seen before. And the other part of this story that I think is just so incredible is the what-ifs. Because there are so many points in time that I

described and points in time that I just glossed over and didn't mention at all, that this could have gone so a different way. And we would have grown up learning about all of the amazing things that Roosevelt did for this country that we talked about. And obviously some of the other parts of him that we also talked about that weren't so great. But regardless, we would have learned about all that. But then it wouldn't have been he died at home in New York. It'd be like, he went into the jungle and disappeared. No one ever heard from him again. And he's never been seen again. And he's never been seen again. Like imagine if that was the end of his story. I mean, it would add a lot of mystery to him, I think.

And I think it would draw a lot of people to him. But knowing the full story is, I think, a lot more interesting. And I would just also like to say to any teacher that may be interested and may be in charge of teaching a unit on Theodore Roosevelt, I would have been so much more intrigued to learn about. all of the minutia and details that you need to learn in school about certain historic figures, if it was preceded by something like this, like even a 20-minute condensed version of this, and then it's like, okay, so now do you care about him a little more? Let me tell you all the things he did. I would have retained that information so much more if it was led with something like this.

Yeah, it's interesting that you say that because, I mean, like I mentioned before, I never knew the story. Yeah. And I've learned about theater Roosevelt my entire life. So it's kind of just like, I don't know, like let's... It's a fun way to bring history to make it interesting. Yeah. Get that hook, get people interested. Yeah.

And who knows, maybe it's way more taught in school now. We haven't been in school in a long time. Yeah, I could eat my words. But it's just an idea. I don't know. Or if that's even allowed, I'm not sure. I'm not in the education world. It may be just like not allowed at all.

But anyways, yeah, I thank you for everyone who recommended it. It wasn't just a single person. There was a lot of people who have recommended this story over the years. I'm glad I read the book. You should too. I'll link it in the description as always. And I'll also add it to our website if you do not know. We have a website that has a tab that is called Bookshelf.

And I make sure to go through all of our episodes, whether it be mine or Cassie's, and pull books that we use as references and highlight them on that page. So you can literally scroll through and see all the books that we've discussed, either from episodes, guest authors, even our bonus episode books that we talk about. They're all there. So if you're in need of some reading inspiration, it's there for you. And let's go. I've been talking about literally way too long. Yeah. Well, thank you everyone for hanging in for this two-parter that could have been a four-parter. But it's not. It was not. And it was so interesting. I think will really motivate people to read the book. But thank you everyone for hanging out. We will see you next time. Enjoy the view.

But watch you're back. Bye, everyone. Bye. Thank you for joining us again this week. If you love National Park After Dark and want to hear exclusive bonus stories, join us on Patreon or Apple subscriptions. Patreon subscribers have access to our National Park After Dark book club, live streams, discord, and much more.

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