The Treasure of the Amazon

People don't believe me when I tell them the truth of my experience. They smile and tell me the memories were created by the raving mind of a man sapped of strength by the intense heat and fear of death. I have proof that my memories are accurate. I still bear the scars from the rough, bark ropes that bound me until it was time for me to be used, and Iana sits at my side as I pen this story, but they still do not believe.

At first, I was dumbfounded at the rejection of my experiences. I was a man of science, not some carnival barker trying to convince those who strolled by to part with their money to see what was only a man in an ape suit. I would receive no great wealth if they believed, for archeologists seldom become wealthy no matter what their discoveries. I only wished to open their minds to the possibility of a society that had never before been studied.

After a while, I realized that though academia portrays itself as a community of open minds, in reality, those minds are open only to those ideas that conform to the opinions of the majority. In order to vindicate myself, I would have to go back and obtain tangible proof. Unfortunately, financing for archeological expeditions is controlled by the people who equated my story to those of unicorns and dragons. I would have to finance the expedition just as I had the first -- with my own money.

Such will never be. I know that now. While I have managed to accumulate sufficient funds over the years, I have grown too old in the process. To attempt such a journey again would no doubt result in my bones becoming the fodder of the creatures of the Amazon. I do not relish that idea. It is not the thought of the creatures spreading those bones hither and yon that dissuades me, for the animals who would benefit would be only following their nature. It is only that when my clock strikes midnight, I wish Iana to know where I pass my days in eternity. She will join me when her time comes and we'll spend eternity together.

Some believe some of my story and call it "divine providence" that Iana and I survived. Call it that. Call it luck, call it fate, call it what you will, but in reality, it was only Iana who saved me from what would have been an unholy demise. Without her help then, I would not be writing these words now.

I will tell you my tale in hopes someone else much younger and stronger will take up my quest and discover what I know, but cannot prove to be factual. I do not seek the honor of that discovery when it is finally made, but perhaps the scientific literature will grant me the occasional footnote as the man who inspired others to trek into the rain forest in search of the tribe that should not be, but is.

I had been inducted into the US Army on my eighteenth birthday, that being January 5th, 1945. After completing my training, I was assigned to a combat unit in Germany, and participated in some of the final battles that ended the terror of the Nazis. I continued to serve as part of the occupation forces in Germany until my term of service ended. I was discharged in January of 1947, and used my benefits under the GI Bill to go to college.

From my earliest memories, I have been interested in the past. I spent many hours of my youth combing the local fields and streams around Knoxville, Tennessee for the arrowheads and spear points that were plentiful at that time. I also visited every museum to which I could convince my parents to take me.

For this reason, my chosen field of study was archeology, and I spent the next two years grudgingly studying the subjects that were requisite for actual studies in my field. The second two years were more pleasure and excitement than study. Most were classes that examined the various archeological explorations in far-flung parts of the world. My enjoyment of those classes confirmed my choice had been a sound one.

Between my junior and senior year, I participated in a dig at the site of an ancient Native American town, and that summer only whetted my appetite for more discoveries, for during that dig, I unearthed a small metallic disk with strange symbols that was later identified as being made of gold.

All evidence other than that disk, a sort of pendant, pointed to the working of stone as the height of technological achievement for that particular area and time period. The origin of the pendant was a mystery until I was back at school and researched the symbols on the face of the disk. The symbols were very similar to those found in artifacts from the Mayan civilization of the Amazon basin.

I competed my studies for both a master's degree and a doctorate in Archeology, including a thesis that presented an argument for the presence of the pendant as proof of trading between the Maya and the ancient Native American populations. My thesis was accepted, and I received my degree.

The prudent course of action would have been to join forces with another archeologist in an exploration of some known site to gain experience before striking out on my own. I was filled with the impatient confidence of youth though, and determined to investigate one of the mysteries of archeology I had studied.

In 1925, an archeologist named "Fancett had embarked upon an expedition to the Amazon in search of a place he named "The Lost City of Z". He had learned of the supposed existence of the place from a document known as "Manuscript 512". The document was written by a Portuguese settler in Brazil named da Silva, and described the ruins of an ancient city with many artifacts and hieroglyphics of an undecipherable nature.

"Fancett traveled to Brazil with a small party and set out up the Amazon River in search of the city. He was last known to have entered Rio Jutai just west of the village of Jutai, where the entire party vanished. Subsequent searches yielded only some second and third hand stories that the party had been killed by natives, but no proof in the way of bones or equipment from the expedition.

I was first interested in the expedition, then became obsessed with finding the city. I envisioned coming upon the ruins, photographing them, retrieving as many artifacts as it was possible to carry, and then returning to study them. My resulting papers would earn me renown and the respect of the archeological community.

I obtained every scrap of information relative to the expedition I could find and spent hours reviewing the route of travel that "Fancett had planned. In the end, I thought I had a fair idea of the city's general location. I would need only trek in that direction until I found it.

On the eighteenth of October in 1952, after transferring from the steamer from New York to a smaller steamer at the port in Santana, I landed on the docks of Manaus, Brazil and set about arranging my expedition. Porters were an absolute necessity, for I could never manage to carry enough supplies to last what I estimated to be a two month adventure. I hired twenty natives and four large dugout canoes, and struck out up the Amazon for Jutai.

The trip up-river was uneventful except for the presence of a bewildering array wildlife. After a day at Jutai to rest the men, we started up Rio Jutai. By the time we beached the canoes at the small river I believed to be "Fancett's starting point, I had taken numerous photos of the animals as well as the indigenous peoples we saw on the river banks. After a day to pack everything into equal loads for the porters and a night to rest, my expedition began hacking its way through the dense vegetation as I monitored my map and compass.

Each porter carried about sixty pounds of food and supplies. In the Army rucksack on my back, I carried a canteen, two spare sets of clothing and something I hoped I would not need -- a Model 1911 pistol like I'd carried in Germany, four extra magazines filled with rounds, and 200 more cartridges in boxes. I did not wear the belt with the holster for the pistol. It would have only frightened any natives we met. It was within easy reach though. I only needed to reach into my rucksack and pull it from the holster.

In a pocket sewn on the inside of the rucksack was a small amount of my money, the equivalent of about fifty dollars, that I had converted into Brazilian currency. That would pay my porters upon our return. I had put the rest of my funds in a bank in Manaus, and would withdraw it when I purchased passage for myself and my artifacts back to the US.

After a day's travel, I deemed us to be nearing the most probable site, and we began stopping in the early afternoon. While two of the porters prepared our nightly meal, I would send the rest into the jungle to search for indications of the city. It was the second day when one of the porters came running back into our camp and jabbering away in his native language.

After calming the man, the lead porter translated his story.

The man had walked until he came to a tall rise in the land, and upon this rise was a large stone structure. He had observed the structure for some time and had seen no people or animals, and so believed it to be the city I sought.

The next morning we set out in the direction the man indicated and came to the same rise, though it was not so high as the man had indicated. The structure was also not what the man described, being only a high, stone wall perched at the edge of the rise. I thought it was probably not Fancett's city, but would still be interesting. I decided to camp there for the night as it was too late in the afternoon to attempt the climb. After dinner, we all took to our beds and were soon lulled to sleep by the drone of the insects and creatures of the night.

I woke at some point during the night - I could not tell the hour - to the sound of my men crying out in agony. I rose from my hammock to determine what had happened, and was nearly on my feet when a coarse sack of some sort was thrown over my head. I did struggle, but the many hands that threw me to the ground rendered that effort fruitless. I was tightly bound, hand and foot, then picked up and carried away.

I could only assume natives had attacked the camp and I was about to suffer the same fate as Fancett. I vowed not to be killed easily, though my present predicament ruled out any attempt at escape. I would wait until I knew my surroundings and then plot my plan.

After a time of being carried, I was dropped to a stone floor and after my wrists and ankles were securely bound to something immovable, the rough sack was removed from my head. After the few minutes it took to accustom my eyes to the dim light of early morning, I was able to see where I was.

The stone floor was the floor of a stone room of rectangular shape with a heavy wooden door at one narrow end and two windows barred with wooden poles on each side of the door. My wrists and ankles were bound with coarse ropes made from what I believed to be the bark of trees, and tethered to large wooden posts driven into the floor.

For a few minutes, I saw nothing else. Then, the door opened and a woman entered carrying a tray of fruits. She was as white as I and that was extremely unusual. All the natives I had seen so far were brown.

She was dressed only in a short skirt of leather, her full breasts being as bare as the day she came into the world. She appeared to not have a shred of modesty, for she did not attempt to cover herself when she saw me looking at her. Instead, she smiled and brought her tray to where I lay, then picked up one of the fruits and moved it toward my mouth. She opened her mouth and moved her jaws as if biting, and then closed her lips and made the motions of chewing.

I understood her meaning but was reluctant to do as she indicated. I was not about to die a painful death by eating poisonous fruit offered by my captors. I shook my head that I would not eat the fruit.

The young woman smiled, took a bite of the fruit, chewed, and then swallowed. She then once again offered me the fruit. I reasoned she would not eat the fruit if it would harm her, so I opened my mouth, took a bite, and then chewed.

The flavor was unfamiliar but very tasty, being somewhat like a tart apple. When I swallowed that bite, the woman again offered the fruit, and continued doing so until I had consumed three more of the same. She then left, and returned shortly with a wooden cup of water which I drank without fear after she also drank from it. When I finished, she smiled and pointed between her breasts.

"Iana", she said, and then smiled and pointed to me. Her words were not in any language with which I was familiar, but the sound was something like, "e-ah-nah. When I did not answer, she again pointed to her chest and repeated "Iana". I then understood that to be her name and I replied with, "Robert".

She smiled and said, "Ahbit", pointed to her chest again and said "Iana", then pointed back at me and said, "Ahbaht". Then, she rose and left me alone again.

I saw no other people while the woman was there, though I heard them speaking outside the cell where I was imprisoned. The voices were all female and this did not surprise me. It would be the women of the population who remained in the town or village, whichever this might be. Women would be the ones who cared for the children and the elderly. The men would be in the forest hunting or fishing to feed the population.

After she left, I wondered about my fate. Surely if they were going to kill me, they would not feed me. I didn't object to being fed though. The strenuous activity of walking through the jungle combined with the heat and necessary strict rationing of food had caused me to lose some weight. I was not weakened to any great extent, but my clothing did not fit so well as when I began the trip. The fruit was also a welcome change from dried meat and beans.

I was also encouraged by learning her name. If I was to be killed, there would be no reason for introductions. That Iana wanted me to know her name and to know mine must mean some other fate would befall me. I could not imagine what that might be, but it would probably be preferable to dying.

A while later, Iana came through the door again, this time accompanied by two other women, but such unusual women they were. While Iana was about normal height, that is to say perhaps five feet and three inches, the two others were well over six feet tall. They were dressed in the same manner, just a short skirt with nothing covering their breasts, and as they moved, corded muscles rippled under their pale white skin.

The two women easily lifted me to my feet after Iana untied the ropes that bound my wrists and ankles, and then the two women who held my arms walked me through the door.

I was amazed by the view outside my cell, both for the expanse of jungle that had been cleared and now was dotted with stone houses and also by the fact I saw no men anywhere. There were many young girls playing on a large courtyard in the center, but no male of any age was to be seen. In the groups of indigenous peoples we had passed in coming up-river, there were always one or two old men present and several male children. The same would be true for any society no matter what the stage of development, yet I saw no person of the male sex anywhere.

As I was walked down a stone path, I saw more women standing upon the tops of buildings, but they were not women as I knew women. These women were easily as tall and muscular as the two who held my arms, and wore only the same short, leather skirts and sandals. Each carried a bow and a quiver of arrows upon her bare back. Each held a long spear with one hand.

I was walked to an area some distance from the buildings and saw a row of wooden seats. The pungent odor of the place revealed the purpose of the seats. It was a latrine.

While the two women held me in place, Iana unbuttoned my pants and pulled them to my ankles. The two women lifted my feet from the ground, and then Iana pulled my pants away. I was then taken to one of the seats and forced to sit down.

While the two tall women held me in that position, Iana pushed my legs apart, made a face as if she were straining, and then pointed down between my open legs. I understood what was expected of me, and while it was extremely embarrassing, they evidently knew more about my condition than I had let on. The fruit was delicious, but apparently had more effect than simply sating my hunger. Though I required relief, I did not know how to explain my predicament. I could no longer contain that which wished to leave, and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to watch them watching me.

When I finished, the two women stood me on my feet, and Iana took care of the necessary cleaning activity with some soft leaves. As if that was not sufficiently embarrassing, once she was done, I was then walked back to my cell in only my shirt. Iana had thrown my pants into the pit beneath the seat. Once I was back in my cell, my wrists and ankles were again bound.

I received the same treatment for what I estimated to be a month, though after that first day, Iana brought meat and some sort of vegetables in addition to fruit. I could not identify the meat, and the vegetables were also unknown except for a variety I could identify as a sort of squash. All were pleasant to the taste and very filling. By the end of the month, my shirt fit nearly as well as before.

The tall women who lead me to and from the latrine varied with the day, though they were all very similar. All had long, blonde hair, heavy breasts, and the wide hips of a mature white woman. All were much taller and much more muscular than any woman I had ever known, and more so than some of the men I'd served with. Only Iana looked to be what I would have considered normal. Her breasts were of a pleasing size, her hips wide enough to be sensuous, and her face was very pretty. Unlike the taller women, Iana's hair was as black as coal.

After the first week, I'd become impressed with the way in which Iana was able to communicate with me. She obviously knew nothing of the English language, but the signs and facial expressions she used could only be invented by a very intelligent woman. I began trying to teach her English while she fed me my meals.

It took two days to teach her the word "eat", but when she connected the word with the action, she smiled. The next time she brought my tray of food, she held out a piece of meat, smiled, and said, "Ahbaht eat".

After that first word, Iana would point to objects and give me a questioning look. I'd say the English word and she'd touch the object, repeat the word, and then look at me to see if she'd said it correctly. Usually she did, but try as I might, I could not teach her to make the sound of "r". It always came out of her mouth as "ah". Just as "Robert" became "Ahbaht", so "rope" became "ahope", "door" became "doah", and so on.

Other than her inability to say the sound of "r", Iana became quite conversant. She could usually pick out enough words from what I said to understand me, and she liked replying in English. Her syntax was not usually correct, but as English syntax is considered by most linguists to be more than a little confusing, I could forgive her that failing.

One night after she fed me, Iana left with her tray, but came back a few minutes later carrying a cup that could only have been made of gold. It had the same luster and color of gold, and it was obvious the cup was much heavier than the normal wooden cups she brought on the tray.

Iana knelt by my side, sat the cup down, and then reached for my manhood. I tried to tell her not to do that, but Iana said, "No talk. Still be. Iana hurt not, only good feel make."

Since I was still bound at the wrists and ankles, there was little I could do to stop her anyway, so I asked what she was going to do to me. Iana's face was serious.