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At night we reached the Juteca, a small river which enters the Solimoens by a channel so narrow that a man might almost jump across it, but a furlong inwards expands into a very pretty lake several miles in circumference.
We took our net into the lake and gleaned a good supply of delicious fish for breakfast. I saw at the upper end of this lake the native rice of this country growing wild. The weather cleared up at ten o'clock a.m. At three p.m. we arrived at the mouth of the Cayambe, another tributary stream much larger than the Juteca. Although prepared for these surprises, I was quite taken aback in this case.
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