POPULAR ADVENTURE TALES [Illustration: THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS ON THE RED RIVER. ] Popular Adventure Tales COMPRISING _THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS_OR, THE BOY HUNTERS IN THE NORTH _THE FOREST EXILES_OR, ADVENTURES AMID THE WILDS OF THE AMAZON _THE BUSH-BOYS_OR, ADVENTURES IN THE WILDS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA By CAPTAIN MAYNE REID AUTHOR OF"_The Rifle Rangers_" "_The Wood Rangers_"_&c. , &c. _ _ILLUSTRATED_ LONDONSIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO. GLASGOW: THOMAS D. MORISON BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Captain Mayne Reid was born at Ballyroney, County Down, on the 4thApril, 1818, and was the son of the Rev. Thomas Mayne Reid. Mayne Reidwas educated with a view to the Church, but finding his inclinationsopposed to this calling, he emigrated to America and arrived in NewOrleans on January, 1840. After a varied career as plantation over-seer, school-master, and actor, with a number of expeditions in connectionwith hunting and Indian warfare, he settled down in 1843 as a journalistin Philadelphia, where he made the acquaintance of Edgar Allan Poe. Leaving Philadelphia in 1846, he spent the summer at Newport, RhodeIsland, as the correspondent of the _New York Herald_, and in Decemberof the same year, having obtained a commission as second lieutenant inthe 1st New York Volunteers, he sailed for Vera Cruz to take part in theMexican war. He behaved with conspicuous gallantry in many engagements, and was severely wounded and disabled at the storming of Chapultepec onthe 13th September, 1847. Returning to the United States in the spring of 1848, he resumedliterary work. But in June, 1849, he sailed for Europe in order to takepart in the revolutionary movements going on in Hungary and Bavaria, arriving however too late, he turned his attention again to literature, and in London in 1850, published his first novel "The Rifle Rangers, " intwo volumes. Between this date and his death, he produced a large numberof volumes, which indeed no one else was capable of writing, for in themare avowedly embodied the observations and experiences of his ownextraordinary career. Unfortunate building and journalistic speculation and enterprisesinvolved him in financial failure, so he returned to New York inOctober, 1867. There he founded and conducted _The Onward Magazine_, butowing to recurring bad effects of his old Mexican wound, he had toabandon work for sometime and go into the hospital, on leaving which hereturned to England in 1870. During the later years of his life heresided at Ross in Herefordshire where he died on the 22nd October, 1883, and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. Mayne Reid wrote in all thirty-five works, chiefly books of adventureand travel. As in the case of all authors, the books vary much in merit, but most of them are of a high order in their own department ofliterature. Many of them have been extraordinary popular and have becomestandard works. Reid has not been surpassed by any other writer incombining at one and the same time, the features of thrilling adventureand great instruction in the fields of natural history. Many of theworks have been translated into Continental languages and are as highlyesteemed among the French and Germans as at home. CONTENTS THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS OR BOY HUNTERS IN THE NORTH. _CHAPTER I_ PAGE THE FUR COUNTRIES 13 _CHAPTER II_ THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS 16 _CHAPTER III_ THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE 22 _CHAPTER IV_ A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT 29 _CHAPTER V_ "CAST AWAY" 34 _CHAPTER VI_ A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN 37 _CHAPTER VII_ DECOYING THE ANTELOPES 41 _CHAPTER VIII_ "A PARTRIDGE DANCE" 45 _CHAPTER IX_ BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL 48 _CHAPTER X_ THREE CURIOUS TREES 52 _CHAPTER XI_ HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE 56 _CHAPTER XII_ THE CHAIN OF LAKES 59 _CHAPTER XIII_ WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE 62 _CHAPTER XIV_ A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS 69 _CHAPTER XV_ A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER 73 _CHAPTER XVI_ THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA 79 _CHAPTER XVII_ THE BLAIREAU, THE "TAWNIES, " AND THE "LEOPARDS" 82 _CHAPTER XVIII_ AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK 86 _CHAPTER XIX_ THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS 91 _CHAPTER XX_ THE FISH-HAWK 94 _CHAPTER XXI_ THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT 97 _CHAPTER XXII_ THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED 102 _CHAPTER XXIII_ FISHING UNDER THE ICE 105 _CHAPTER XXIV_ AN ODD ALARM 107 _CHAPTER XXV_ ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE 113 _CHAPTER XXVI_ LIFE IN A LOG-HUT 117 _CHAPTER XXVII_ TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES 121 _CHAPTER XXVIII_ THE BARREN GROUNDS 125 _CHAPTER XXIX_ THE ROCK-TRIPE 130 _CHAPTER XXX_ THE POLAR HARE AND THE GREAT SNOWY OWL 133 _CHAPTER XXXI_ THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE 138 _CHAPTER XXXII_ THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF 140 _CHAPTER XXXIII_ THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE 145 _CHAPTER XXXIV_ THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE 147 _CHAPTER XXXV_ THE "ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU 151 _CHAPTER XXXVI_ A BATTLE WITH WOLVES 155 _CHAPTER XXXVII_ END OF THE "VOYAGE" 160 THE FOREST EXILES, OR ADVENTURES AMID THE WILDS OF THE AMAZON _CHAPTER I_ THE BIGGEST WOOD IN THE WORLD 162 _CHAPTER II_ THE REFUGEES 164 _CHAPTER III_ THE POISON-TREES 169 _CHAPTER IV_ THE SUPPER OF GUAPO 173 _CHAPTER V_ THE PUNA 175 _CHAPTER VI_ THE WILD BULL OF THE PUNA 179 _CHAPTER VII_ THE "VAQUERO" 181 _CHAPTER VIII_ LLAMAS, ALPACOS, VICUÑAS, AND GUANACOS 184 _CHAPTER IX_ A VICUÑA HUNT 187 _CHAPTER X_ CAPTURING A CONDOR 189 _CHAPTER XI_ THE PERILS OF A PERUVIAN ROAD 191 _CHAPTER XII_ ENCOUNTER UPON A CLIFF 194 _CHAPTER XIII_ THE LONE CROSS IN THE FOREST 197 _CHAPTER XIV_ THE DESERTED MISSION 201 _CHAPTER XV_ THE GUACO AND THE CORAL SNAKE 203 _CHAPTER XVI_ THE PALM-WOODS 207 _CHAPTER XVII_ A HOUSE OF PALMS 209 _CHAPTER XVIII_ TRACKING THE TAPIR 212 _CHAPTER XIX_ THE POISONED ARROWS 216 _CHAPTER XX_ THE MILK-TREE 221 _CHAPTER XXI_ THE CANNIBAL FISH AND THE GYMNOTUS 224 _CHAPTER XXII_ THE CINCHONA-TREES 227 _CHAPTER XXIII_ A PAIR OF SLOW GOERS 231 _CHAPTER XXIV_ THE BARK-HUNTERS 233 _CHAPTER XXV_ THE PUMA AND THE GREAT ANT-BEAR 236 _CHAPTER XXVI_ ATTACK OF THE WHITE ANTS 239 _CHAPTER XXVII_ THE ANT-LION 242 _CHAPTER XXVIII_ THE TATOU-POYOU AND THE DEER CARCASS 246 _CHAPTER XXIX_ AN ARMADILLO HUNT 248 _CHAPTER XXX_ THE OCELOT 251 _CHAPTER XXXI_ A FAMILY OF JAGUARS 255 _CHAPTER XXXII_ THE RAFT 259 _CHAPTER XXXIII_ THE GUARDIAN BROTHER 262 _CHAPTER XXXIV_ THE VAMPIRE 265 _CHAPTER XXXV_ THE MARIMONDAS 269 _CHAPTER XXXVI_ THE MONKEY MOTHER 274 _CHAPTER XXXVII_ AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 276 _CHAPTER XXXVIII_ THE CROCODILE AND CAPIVARAS 279 _CHAPTER XXXIX_ FIGHT OF THE JAGUAR AND CROCODILE 282 _CHAPTER XL_ ADVENTURE WITH AN ANACONDA 284 _CHAPTER XLI_ A BATCH OF CURIOUS TREES 288 _CHAPTER XLII_ THE FOREST FESTIVAL 291 _CHAPTER XLIII_ ACRES OF EGGS 295 _CHAPTER XLIV_ A FIGHT BETWEEN TWO VERY SCALY CREATURES 298 _CHAPTER XLV_ A PAIR OF VALIANT VULTURES 301 _CHAPTER XLVI_ THE "GAPO" 304 _CHAPTER XLVII_ THE ARAGUATOES 306 _CHAPTER XLVIII_ BRIDGING AN IGARIPÉ 308 _CHAPTER XLIX_ THE MANATI 311 _CHAPTER L_ THE CLOSING CHAPTER 314 THE BUSH-BOYS, OR ADVENTURES IN THE WILDS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA. _CHAPTER I_ THE BOERS 317 _CHAPTER II_ THE KRAAL 319 _CHAPTER III_ THE SPRING-HAAN 322 _CHAPTER IV_ A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS 325 _CHAPTER V_ THE LOCUST-FLIGHT 329 _CHAPTER VI_ "INSPANN AND TREK!" 333 _CHAPTER VII_ WATER! WATER! 335 _CHAPTER VIII_ THE FATE OF THE HERD 339 _CHAPTER IX_ A LION COUCHANT 341 _CHAPTER X_ THE LION IN THE TRAP 345 _CHAPTER XI_ THE DEATH OF THE LION 348 _CHAPTER XII_ THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED 351 _CHAPTER XIII_ THE TREK-BOKEN 354 _CHAPTER XIV_ SPOORING FOR A SPRING 359 _CHAPTER XV_ THE TERRIBLE TSETSE 361 _CHAPTER XVI_ THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS 364 _CHAPTER XVII_ A HEAVY COMBAT 367 _CHAPTER XVIII_ THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT 371 _CHAPTER XIX_ TURNED HUNTERS 375 _CHAPTER XX_ JERKING AN ELEPHANT 377 _CHAPTER XXI_ THE HIDEOUS HYENA 379 _CHAPTER XXII_ STALKING THE OUREBI 382 _CHAPTER XXIII_ LITTLE JAN'S ADVENTURE 388 _CHAPTER XXIV_ A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS 390 _CHAPTER XXV_ THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS 393 _CHAPTER XXVI_ UPON THE SPOOR 397 _CHAPTER XXVII_ A ROGUE ELEPHANT 400 _CHAPTER XXVIII_ THE MISSING HUNTER, AND THE WILDEBEESTS 405 _CHAPTER XXIX_ THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA 409 _CHAPTER XXX_ HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST 411 _CHAPTER XXXI_ BESIEGED BY THE BULL 414 _CHAPTER XXXII_ A HELPLESS BEAST 416 _CHAPTER XXXIII_ THE ELEPHANT'S SLEEPING ROOM 420 _CHAPTER XXXIV_ MAKING THE ELEPHANT'S BED 423 _CHAPTER XXXV_ THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA 425 _CHAPTER XXXVI_ PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS 429 _CHAPTER XXXVII_ THE PIT-TRAP 433 _CHAPTER XXXVIII_ DRIVING IN THE ELAND 436 _CHAPTER XXXIX_ A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK 439 _CHAPTER XL_ THE GUN-TRAP 444 _CHAPTER XLI_ THE WEAVER-BIRDS 447 _CHAPTER XLII_ THE SPITTING-SNAKE 450 _CHAPTER XLIII_ THE SERPENT-EATER 452 _CHAPTER XLIV_ TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS 456 _CHAPTER XLV_ THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST 460 _CHAPTER XLVI_ CONCLUSION 465 [Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer errors, (missing accents, missingletters, etc) including punctuation, have been silently corrected. All other inconsistencies including archaic spellings have been left asthey were in the original. Added a List of Illustrations. ] LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS ON THE RED RIVER. Frontispiece THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE. 28 BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. 50 THE WAPITI AND THE WOLVERENE. 67 THE BLAIREAU AND THE MARMOTS 84 THE OSPREY AND WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 99 BASIL AND THE MOOSE BULL. 116 THE WOLVES AND THE PEMMICAN BAGS. 129 THE LYNX AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE. 150 THE FLIGHT OF THE REFUGEES. 167 GUAPO'S ENCOUNTER WITH THE BULLS. 196 GUAPO AND THE 'NIMBLE PETERS. ' 230 THE ESCAPE OF THE ARMADILLO. 250 THE VAMPIRE BAT. 266 ADVENTURE WITH AN ANACONDA. 287 THE SHOWER OF LOCUSTS. 332 THE LION IN A FIX. 350 A DEADLY ENCOUNTER. 370 HENDRIK DECOYING THE OUREBIS. 386 SWARTBOY IN A PREDICAMENT. 404 HANS BESIEGED BY A WILDEBEEST. 417 THE QUAGGA AND THE HYENA. 432 HENDRICK BLINDING THE QUAGGA. 443 TOTTY IN TROUBLE. 459 Popular Adventure Tales. THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS OR BOY HUNTERS IN THE NORTH. CHAPTER I THE FUR COUNTRIES Boy reader, you have heard of the Hudson's Bay Company? Ten to one youhave worn a piece of fur which it has provided for you; if not, yourpretty little sister has--in her muff, or her boa, or as a trimming forher winter dress. Would you like to know something of the country whencecome these furs?--of the animals whose backs have been stripped toobtain them? As I feel certain that you and I are old friends, I makebold to answer for you--yes. Come, then! let us journey together to the"Fur Countries;" let us cross them from south to north. A vast journey it will be. It will cost us many thousand miles oftravel. We shall find neither railway-train, nor steamboat, norstagecoach, to carry us on our way. We shall not even have the help of ahorse. For us no hotel shall spread its luxurious board; no road-sideinn shall hang out its inviting sign and "clean beds;" no roof of anykind shall offer us its hospitable shelter. Our table shall be a rock, alog, or the earth itself; our lodging a tent; and our bed the skin of awild beast. Such are the best accommodations we can expect upon ourjourney. Are you still ready to undertake it? Does the prospect notdeter you? No--I hear you exclaim--I shall be satisfied with the table--what care Ifor mahogany? With the lodging--I can tent like an Arab. With thebed--fling feathers to the wind! Enough, brave boy! you shall go with me to the wild regions of the"North-west, " to the far "fur countries" of America. But, first--a wordabout the land through which we are going to travel. Take down your atlas. Bend your eye upon the map of North America. Notetwo large islands--one upon the right side, Newfoundland; another uponthe left, Vancouver. Draw a line from one to the other; it will nearlybisect the continent. North of that line you behold a vast territory. How vast? You may take your scissors, and clip fifty Englands out of it!There are lakes there in which you might _drown_ England, or make anisland of it! Now, you may form some idea of the vastness of that regionknown as the "fur countries. " Will you believe me, when I tell you that all this immense tract is awilderness--a howling wilderness, if you like a poetical name? It iseven so. From north to south, from ocean to ocean--throughout all thatvast domain, there is neither town nor village--hardly anything that canbe dignified with the name of "settlement. " The only signs ofcivilisation to be seen are the "forts, " or trading posts of theHudson's Bay Company; and these "signs" are few and far--hundreds ofmiles--between. For inhabitants, the country has less than ten thousand white men, the_employés_ of the Company; and its native people are Indians of manytribes, living far apart, few in numbers, subsisting by the chase, andhalf starving for at least a third part of every year! In truth, theterritory can hardly be called "inhabited. " There is not a man to everyten miles; and in many parts of it you may travel hundreds of mileswithout seeing a face, red, white, or black! The physical aspect is, therefore, entirely wild. It is very differentin different parts of the territory. One tract is peculiar. It has beenlong known as the "Barren Grounds. " It is a tract of vast extent. Itlies north-west from the shores of Hudson's Bay, extending nearly to theMackenzie River. Its rocks are _primitive_. It is a land of hills andvalleys--of deep dark lakes and sharp-running streams. It is a woodlessregion. No timber is found there that deserves the name. No trees butglandular dwarf birches, willows, and black spruce, small and stunted. Even these only grow in isolated valleys. More generally the surface iscovered with coarse sand--the _debris_ of granite or quartz-rock--uponwhich no vegetable, save the lichen or the moss, can find life andnourishment. In one respect these "Barren Grounds" are unlike the deserts of Africa:they are well watered. In almost every valley there is a lake; andthough many of these are land-locked, yet do they contain fish ofseveral species. Sometimes these lakes communicate with each other bymeans of rapid and turbulent streams passing through narrow gorges; andlines of those connected lakes form the great rivers of the district. Such is a large portion of the Hudson's Bay territory. Most of theextensive peninsula of Labrador partakes of a similar character; andthere are other like tracts west of the Rocky Mountain range in the"Russian possessions. " Yet these "Barren Grounds" have their denizens. Nature has formedanimals that delight to dwell there, and that are never found in morefertile regions. Two ruminating creatures find sustenance upon themosses and lichens that cover their cold rocks: they are the caribou(reindeer) and the musk-ox. These, in their turn, become the food andsubsistence of preying creatures. The wolf, in all its varieties ofgrey, black, white, pied, and dusky, follows upon their trail. The"brown bear"--a large species, nearly resembling the "grizzly"--is foundonly in the Barren Grounds; and the great "Polar bear" comes withintheir borders, but the latter is a dweller upon their shores alone, andfinds his food among the finny tribes of the seas that surround them. Inmarshy ponds, existing here and there, the musk-rat builds his house, like that of his larger cousin, the beaver. Upon the water sedge hefinds subsistence; but his natural enemy, the wolverene, skulks in thesame neighbourhood. The "Polar hare" lives upon the leaves and twigs of the dwarfbirch-tree; and this, transformed into its own white flesh, becomes thefood of the Arctic fox. The herbage, sparse though it be, does not growin vain. The seeds fall to the earth, but they are not suffered todecay. They are gathered by the little lemmings and meadow-mice, who, intheir turn, become the prey of two species of _mustelidĉ_, the ermineand vison weasels. Have the fish of the lakes no enemy? Yes--a terribleone in the Canada otter. The mink-weasel, too, pursues them; and insummer, the osprey, the great pelican, the cormorant, and thewhite-headed eagle. These are the _fauna_ of the Barren Grounds. Man rarely ventures withintheir boundaries. The wretched creatures who find a living there are theEsquimaux on their coasts, and a few Chippewa Indians in the interior, who hunt the caribou, and are known as "caribou-eaters. " Other Indiansenter them only in summer, in search of game, or journeying from pointto point; and so perilous are these journeyings, that numbers frequentlyperish by the way. There are no white men in the Barren Grounds. The"Company" has no commerce there. No fort is established in them: soscarce are the fur-bearing animals of these parts, their skins would notrepay the expense of a "trading post. " Far different are the "wooded tracts" of the fur countries. These liemostly in the southern and central regions of the Hudson's Bayterritory. There are found the valuable beaver and the wolverene thatpreys upon it. There dwells the American hare with its enemy the Canadalynx. There are the squirrels, and the beautiful martens (sables) thathunt them from tree to tree. There are found the foxes of every variety, the red, the cross, and the rare and highly-prized silver-fox, whoseshining skin sells for its weight in gold! There, too, the black bearyields its fine coat to adorn the winter carriage, the holsters of thedragoon, and the shako of the grenadier. There the fur-bearing animalsexist in greatest plenty, and many others whose skins are valuable incommerce, as the moose, the wapiti, and the wood-bison. But there is also a "prairie" district in the fur countries. The greattable prairies of North America, that slope eastward from the RockyMountains, also extend northward into the Hudson's Bay territory. Theygradually grow narrower, however, as you proceed farther north, until, on reaching the latitude of the Great Slave Lake, they end altogether. This "prairie-land" has its peculiar animals. Upon it roams the buffalo, the prong-horned antelope, and the mule-deer. There, too, may be seenthe "barking wolf" and the "swift fox. " It is the favourite home of themarmots, and the gauffres or sand-rats; and there, too, the noblest ofanimals, the horse, runs wild. West of this prairie tract is a region of far different aspect--theregion of the Rocky Mountains. This stupendous chain, sometimes calledthe Andes of North America, continues throughout the fur countries fromtheir southern limits to the shores of the Arctic Sea. Some of its peaksoverlook the waters of that sea itself, towering up near the coast. Manyof these, even in southern latitudes, carry the "eternal snow. " This"mountain-chain" is, in places, of great breadth. Deep valleys lie inits embrace, many of which have never been visited by man. Some aredesolate and dreary; others are oäses of vegetation, which fascinate thetraveller whose fortune it has been, after toiling among naked rocks, togaze upon their smiling fertility. These lovely wilds are the favourite home of many strange animals. Theargali, or mountain-sheep, with his huge curving horns, is seen there;and the shaggy wild goat bounds along the steepest cliffs. The blackbear wanders through the wooded ravines; and his fiercer congener, the"grizzly"--the most dreaded of all American animals--drags his huge bodyalong the rocky declivities. Having crossed the mountains, the fur countries extend westward to thePacific. There you encounter barren plains, treeless and waterless;rapid rivers, that foam through deep, rock-bound channels; and a countryaltogether rougher in aspect, and more mountainous, than that lying tothe east of the great chain. A warmer atmosphere prevails as youapproach the Pacific, and in some places forests of tall trees cover theearth. In these are found most of the fur-bearing animals; and, onaccount of the greater warmth of the climate, the true _felidĉ_--thelong-tailed cats--here wander much farther north than upon the easternside of the continent. Even so far north as the forests of Oregon theseappear in the forms of the cougar and the ounce. But it is not our intention at present to cross the Rocky Mountains. Ourjourney will lie altogether on the eastern side of that great chain. Itwill extend from the frontiers of civilization to the shores of theArctic Sea. It is a long and perilous journey, boy reader; but as wehave made up our minds to it, let us waste no more time in talking, butset forth at once. You are ready? Hurrah! CHAPTER II THE YOUNG VOYAGEURS There is a canoe upon the waters of Red River--Red River of the north. It is near the source of the stream, but passing downward. It is a smallcanoe, a frail structure of birch-bark, and contains only four persons. They are all young--the eldest of them evidently not over nineteen yearsof age, and the youngest about fifteen. The eldest is nearly full-grown, though his body and limbs have not yetassumed the muscular development of manhood. His complexion is dark, nearly olive. His hair is jet black, straight as an Indian's, and long. His eyes are large and brilliant, and his features prominent. Hiscountenance expresses courage, and his well-set jaws betoken firmnessand resolution. He does not belie his looks, for he possesses thesequalifications in a high degree. There is a gravity in his manner, somewhat rare in one so young; yet it is not the result of a morosedisposition, but a subdued temperament produced by modesty, good sense, and much experience. Neither has it the air of stupidity. No: you couldeasily tell that the mind of this youth, if once roused, would exhibitboth energy and alertness. His quiet manner has a far differentexpression. It is an air of coolness and confidence, which tells you hehas met with dangers in the past, and would not fear to encounter themagain. It is an expression peculiar, I think, to the hunters of the "FarWest, "--those men who dwell amidst dangers in the wild regions of thegreat prairies. Their solitary mode of life begets this expression. Theyare often for months without the company of a creature with whom theymay converse--months without beholding a human face. They live alonewith Nature, surrounded by her majestic forms. These awe them intohabits of silence. Such was in point of fact the case with the youthwhom we have been describing. He had hunted much, though not as aprofessional hunter. With him the chase had been followed merely as apastime; but its pursuit had brought him into situations of peril, andin contact with Nature in her wild solitudes. Young as he was, he hadjourneyed over the grand prairies, and through the pathless forests ofthe West. He had slain the bear and the buffalo, the wild cat and thecougar. These experiences had made their impression upon his mind, andstamped his countenance with that air of gravity we have noticed. The second of the youths whom we shall describe is very different inappearance. He is of blonde complexion, rather pale, with fair silkenhair that waves gently down his cheeks, and falls upon his shoulders. Heis far from robust. On the contrary, his form is thin and delicate. Itis not the delicacy of feebleness or ill-health, but only a body ofslighter build. The manner in which he handles his oar shows that hepossesses both health and strength, though neither in such a high degreeas the dark youth. His face expresses, perhaps, a larger amount ofintellect, and it is a countenance that would strike you as more openand communicative. The eye is blue and mild, and the brow is marked bythe paleness of study and habits of continued thought. These indicationsare no more than just, for the fair-haired youth _is_ a student, and oneof no ordinary attainments. Although only seventeen years of age, he isalready well versed in the natural sciences; and many a graduate ofOxford or Cambridge would but ill compare with him. The former mightexcel in the knowledge--if we can dignify it by that name--of the lawsof scansion, or in the composition of Greek idylls; but in all thatconstitutes _real_ knowledge he would prove but an idle theorist, adreamy imbecile, alongside our practical young scholar of the West. The third and youngest of the party--taking them as they sit from stemto bow--differs in many respects from both those described. He hasneither the gravity of the first, nor yet the intellectuality of thesecond. His face is round, and full, and ruddy. It is bright and smilingin its expression. His eye dances merrily in his head, and its glancefalls upon everything. His lips are hardly ever at rest. They are eitherengaged in making words--for he talks almost incessantly--or elsecontracting and expanding with smiles and joyous laughter. His cap isjauntily set, and his fine brown curls, hanging against the rich roseateskin of his cheeks, give to his countenance an expression of extremehealth and boyish beauty. His merry laugh and free air tell you he isnot the boy for books. He is not much of a hunter either. In fact, he isnot particularly given to anything--one of those easy natures who takethe world as it comes, look upon the bright side of everything, withoutgetting sufficiently interested to excel in anything. These three youths were dressed nearly alike. The eldest wore thecostume, as near as may be, of a backwoods hunter--a tunic-likehunting-shirt, of dressed buckskin, leggings and mocassins of the samematerial, and all--shirt, leggings, and mocassins--handsomely braidedand embroidered with stained quills of the porcupine. The cape of theshirt was tastefully fringed, and so was the skirt as well as the seamsof the mocassins. On his head was a hairy cap of raccoon skin, and thetail of the animal, with its dark transverse bars, hung down behind likethe drooping plume of a helmet. Around his shoulders were two leathernbelts that crossed each other upon his breast. One of these slung abullet-pouch covered with a violet-green skin that glittered splendidlyin the sun. It was from the head of the "wood-duck" the most beautifulbird of its tribe. By the other strap was suspended a largecrescent-shaped horn taken from the head of an Opelousas bull, andcarved with various ornamental devices. Other smaller implements hungfrom the belts, attached by leathern thongs: there was a picker, awiper, and a steel for striking fire with. A third belt--a broad stoutone of alligator leather--encircled the youth's waist. To this wasfastened a holster, and the shining butt of a pistol could be seenprotruding out; a hunting-knife of the kind denominated "bowie" hangingover the left hip, completed his "arms and accoutrements. " The second of the youths was dressed, as already stated, in a somewhatsimilar manner, though his accoutrements were not of so warlike acharacter. Like the other, he had a powder-horn and pouch, but insteadof knife and pistol, a canvass bag or haversack hung from his shoulder;and had you looked into it, you would have seen that it was half filledwith shells, pieces of rock, and rare plants, gathered during theday--the diurnal storehouse of the geologist, the palĉontologist, andbotanist--to be emptied for study and examination by the nightcamp-fire. Instead of the 'coon-skin cap he wore a white felt hat withbroad leaf; and for leggings and mocassins he had trousers of bluecottonade and laced buskins of tanned leather. The youngest of the three was dressed and accoutred much like theeldest, except that his cap was of blue cloth--somewhat after thefashion of the military forage cap. All three wore shirts of colouredcotton, the best for journeying in these uninhabited regions, where soapis scarce, and a laundress not to be had at any price. Though very unlike one another, these three youths were brothers. I knewthem well. I had seen them before--about two years before--and thougheach had grown several inches taller since that time, I had nodifficulty in recognising them. Even though they were now two thousandmiles from where I had formerly encountered them, I could not bemistaken as to their identity. Beyond a doubt they were the same braveyoung adventurers whom I had met in the swamps of Louisiana, and whoseexploits I had witnessed upon the prairies of Texas. They were the "BoyHunters, "--Basil, Lucien, François! I was right glad to renewacquaintance with them. Boy reader, do you share my joy? But whither go they now? They are full two thousand miles from theirhome in Louisiana. The Red River upon which their canoe floats is notthat Red River, whose blood-like waters sweep through the swamps of thehot South--the home of the alligator and the gar. No, it is a stream ofa far different character, though also one of great magnitude. Upon thebanks of the former ripens the rice-plant, and the sugar-cane waves itsgolden tassels high in the air. There, too, flourishes the giant reed, the fan-palm, and the broad-leafed magnolia, with its huge snow-whiteflowers. There the aspect is Southern, and the heat tropical for mostpart of the year. All this is reversed on the Red River of the North. It is true that onits banks sugar is also produced; but it is no longer from a plant but alordly tree--the great sugar-maple. There is rice too, --vast fields ofrice upon its marshy borders; but it is not the pearly grain of theSouth. It is the wild rice, "the water oats, " the food of millions ofwinged creatures, and thousands of human beings as well. Here, forthree-fourths of the year, the sun is feeble, and the aspect that ofwinter. For months the cold waters are bound up in an icy embrace. Theearth is covered with thick snow, over which rise the needle-leafed_coniferĉ_--the pines, the cedars, the spruce, and the hemlock. Veryunlike each other are the countries watered by the two streams, the RedRiver of the South and its namesake of the North. But whither go our Boy Hunters in their birch-bark canoe? The river uponwhich they are _voyaging_ runs due northward into the great lakeWinnipeg. They are floating with its current, and consequentlyincreasing the distance from their home. Whither go they? The answer leads us to some sad reflections. Our joy on again beholdingthem is to be mingled with grief. When we last saw them they had afather, but no mother. Now they have neither one nor the other. The oldColonel, their father--the French _émigré_, the _hunter naturalist_--isdead. He who had taught them all he knew; who had taught them to ride, to swim, to dive deep rivers, to fling the lasso, to climb tall trees, and scale steep cliffs, to bring down birds upon the wing or beasts uponthe run, with the arrow and the unerring rifle; who had trained them tosleep in the open air, in the dark forest, on the unsheltered prairie, along the white snow-wreath--anywhere--with but a blanket or a buffalorobe for their bed; who had taught them to live on the simplest food, and had imparted to one of them a knowledge of science, of botany inparticular, that enabled them, in case of need, to draw sustenance, fromplants and trees, from roots and fruits, to find resources whereignorant men would starve. He also had taught them to kindle a fire without flint, steel, ordetonating powder; to discover their direction without a compass, fromthe rocks and the trees and the signs of the heavens; and in addition toall, had taught them, as far as was then known, the geography of thatvast wilderness that stretches from the Mississippi to the shores of thePacific Ocean, and northward to the icy borders of the Arctic Sea--hewho had taught them all this, their father, was no more; and his threesons, the "boy men, " of whom he was so proud, and of whoseaccomplishments he was wont to boast, were now orphans upon the wideworld. But little more than a year after their return from their grandexpedition to the Texan prairies, the "old Colonel" had died. It was oneof the worst years of that scourge of the South--the yellow fever--andto this dread pestilence he had fallen a victim. Hugot, the _ex-chasseur_ and attached domestic, who was accustomed tofollow his master like a shadow, had also followed him into the nextworld. It was not grief that killed Hugot, though he bore the loss ofhis kind master sadly enough. But it was not grief that killed Hugot. Hewas laid low by the same disease of which his master had died--theyellow fever. A week had scarcely passed after the death of the latter, before Hugot caught the disease, and in a few days he was carried to thetomb and laid by the side of his "old Colonel. " The Boy Hunters--Basil, Lucien, François--became orphans. They knew ofbut one relation in the whole world, with whom their father had kept upany correspondence. This relation was an uncle, and, strange as it mayseem, a Scotchman--a Highlander, who had strayed to Corsica in earlylife, and had there married the Colonel's sister. That uncle hadafterwards emigrated to Canada, and had become extensively engaged inthe fur trade. He was now a superintendent or "factor" of the Hudson'sBay Company, stationed at one of their most remote posts near the shoresof the Arctic Sea! There is a romance in the history of some men wilderthan any fiction that could be imagined. I have not yet answered the question as to where our Boy Hunters werejourneying in their birch-bark canoe. By this time you will have divinedthe answer. Certainly, you will say, they were on their way to jointheir uncle in his remote home. For no other object could they betravelling through the wild regions of the Red River. That suppositionis correct. To visit this Scotch uncle (they had not seen him for years)was the object of their long, toilsome, and perilous journey. Aftertheir father's death he had sent for them. He had heard of theirexploits upon the prairies; and, being himself of an adventurousdisposition, he was filled with admiration for his young kinsmen, anddesired very much to have them come and live with him. Being now their guardian, he might command as much, but it needed notany exercise of authority on his part to induce all three of them toobey his summons. They had travelled through the mighty forests of theMississippi, and upon the summer prairies of the South. These greatfeatures of the earth's surface were to them familiar things, and theywere no longer curious about them. But there remained a vast countrywhich they longed eagerly to explore. They longed to look upon itsshining lakes and crystal rivers; upon its snow-clad hills and ice-boundstreams; upon its huge mammalia--its moose and its musk-oxen, its wapitiand its monster bears. This was the very country to which they were nowinvited by their kinsman, and cheerfully did they accept his invitation. Already had they made one-half the journey, though by far the easierhalf. They had travelled up the Mississippi by steamboat as far as themouth of the St. Peter's. There they had commenced their canoevoyage--in other words became "voyageurs"--for such is the name given tothose who travel by canoes through these wild territories. Theirfavourite horses and the mule "Jeannette" had been left behind. This wasa necessity, as these creatures, however useful upon the dry prairies ofthe South, where there are few or no lakes, and where rivers only occurat long intervals, would be of little service to the traveller in theNorthern regions. Here the route is crossed and intercepted by numerousrivers; and lakes of all sizes, with tracts of inundated marsh, succeedone another continually. Such, in fact, are the highways of the country, and the canoe the travelling carriage; so that a journey from one pointof the Hudson's Bay territory to another is often a canoe voyage ofthousands of miles--equal to a "trip" across the Atlantic. Following the usual custom, therefore, our Boy Hunters had becomevoyageurs--"_Young Voyageurs_. " They had navigated the St. Peter's insafety, almost to its head-waters. These interlock with the sources ofthe Red River. By a "portage" of a few miles they had crossed to thelatter stream; and, having launched their canoe upon its waters, werenow floating downward and northward with its current. But they had yet along journey before them--nearly two thousand miles! Many a river to be"run, " many a rapid to be "shot, " many a lake to be crossed, and many a"portage" to be passed, ere they could reach the end of that great_voyage_. Come, boy reader, shall we accompany them? Yes. The strange scenes andwild adventures through which we must pass, may lighten the toils, andperhaps repay us for the perils of the journey. Think not of the toils. Roses grow only upon thorns. From toil we learn to enjoy leisure. Regardnot the perils. "From the nettle danger we pluck the flower safety. "Security often springs from peril. From such hard experiences great menhave arisen. Come, then, my young friend! mind neither toil nor peril, but with me to the great wilderness of the North! Stay! We are to have another "_compagnon du voyage_. " There is a fourthin the boat, a fourth "young voyageur. " Who is he? In appearance he isas old as Basil, full as tall, and not unlike him in "build. " But he isaltogether of a different _colour_. He is fair-haired; but his hair(unlike that of Lucien, which is also light-coloured) is strong, crisp, and curly. It does not droop, but stands out over his cheeks in aprofusion of handsome ringlets. His complexion is of that kind known as"fresh, " and the weather, to which it has evidently been much exposed, has bronzed and rather enriched the colour. The eyes are dark blue, and, strange to say, with _black_ brows and lashes! This is not common, though sometimes observed; and, in the case of the youth we aredescribing, arose from a difference of complexion on the part of hisparents. He looked through the eyes of his mother, while in otherrespects he was more like his father, who was fair-haired and of a"fresh" colour. The youth, himself, might be termed handsome. Perhaps he did not possessthe youthful beauty of François, nor the bolder kind that characterizedthe face of Basil. Perhaps he was of a coarser "make" than any of histhree companions. His intellect had been less cultivated by education, and _education adds to the beauty of the face_. His life had been aharder one--he had toiled more with his hands, and had seen less ofcivilized society. Still many would have pronounced him a handsomeyouth. His features were regular, and of clean outline. His lipsexpressed good-nature as well as firmness. His eye beamed with nativeintelligence, and his whole face bespoke a heart of true and determinedhonesty--_that made it beautiful_. Perhaps a close scrutinizer of countenances might have detected someresemblance--a family one--between him and his three companions. If suchthere was, it was very slight; but there might have been, from therelationship that existed between them and him. He was theircousin--their full cousin--the only son of that uncle they were now ontheir way to visit, and the messenger who had been sent to bring them. Such was the fourth of "the young voyageurs. " His dress was not unlike that worn by Basil; but as he was seated on thebow, and acting as pilot, and therefore more likely to feel the cold, he wore over his hunting-shirt, a Canadian _capote_ of white woollencloth, with its hood hanging down upon his shoulders. But there was still another "voyageur, " an old acquaintance, whom you, boy reader, will no doubt remember. This was an animal, a quadruped, wholay along the bottom of the canoe upon a buffalo's hide. "From his sizeand colour--which was a tawny red--you might have mistaken him for apanther--a cougar. His long black muzzle and broad hanging ears gave himquite a different aspect, however, and declared him to be a hound. He_was_ one--a bloodhound, with the cross of a mastiff--a powerful animal. It was the dog 'Marengo. '" You remember Marengo? In the canoe there were other objects of interest. There were blanketsand buffalo robes; there was a small canvas tent folded up; there werebags of provisions, and some cooking utensils; there was a spade and anaxe; there were rifles--three of them--and a double-barrelled shot-gun;besides a fish-net, and many other articles, the necessary equipmentsfor such a journey. Loaded almost to the gunwale was that little canoe, yet lightly did itfloat down the waters of the Red River of the North. CHAPTER III THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE It was the spring season, though late. The snow had entirely disappearedfrom the hills, and the ice from the water, and the melting of both hadswollen the river, and rendered its current more rapid than usual. Ouryoung voyageurs needed not therefore to ply their oars, except now andthen to guide the canoe; for these little vessels have no rudder, butare steered by the paddles. The skilful voyageurs can shoot them to anypoint they please, simply by their dexterous handling of the oars; andBasil, Lucien, and François, had had sufficient practice both with"skiffs" and "dug-outs" to make good oarsmen of all three. They had mademany a canoe trip upon the lower Mississippi and the bayous ofLouisiana; besides their journey up the St. Peter's had rendered themfamiliar with the management of their birchen craft. An occasionalstroke of the paddle kept them in their course, and they floated onwithout effort. Norman--such was the name of their Canadian or Highland cousin--sat inthe bow and directed their course. This is the post of honour in acanoe; and as he had more experience than any of them in this sort ofnavigation, he was allowed habitually to occupy this post. Lucien sat inthe stern. He held in his hands a book and pencil; and as the canoeglided onward, he was noting down his memoranda. The trees upon thebanks were in leaf--many of them in blossom--and as the little craftverged near the shore, his keen eye followed the configuration of theleaves, to discover any new species that might appear. There is a rich vegetation upon the banks of the Red River; but the_flora_ is far different from that which appears upon the low _alluvion_of Louisiana. It is Northern, but not Arctic. Oaks, elms, and poplars, are seen mingling with birches, willows, and aspens. Several species ofindigenous fruit trees were observed by Lucien, among which werecrab-apple, raspberry, strawberry, and currant. There was also seen thefruit called by the voyageurs "le poire, " but which in Englishphraseology is known as the "service-berry. " It grows upon a small bushor shrub of six or eight feet high, with smooth pinnate leaves. Thesepretty red berries are much esteemed and eaten both by Indians andwhites, who preserve them by drying, and cook them in various ways. There was still another bush that fixed the attention of our youngbotanist, as it appeared all along the banks, and was a _characteristic_of the vegetation of the country. It was not over eight feet in height, with spreading branches of a grey-colour. Its leaves were three incheswide, and somewhat lobed like those of the oak. Of course, at this earlyseason, the fruit was not ripe upon it; but Lucien knew the fruit well. When ripe it resembles very much a red cherry, or, still more, acranberry, having both the appearance and acrid taste of the latter. Indeed, it is sometimes used as a substitute for cranberries in themaking of pies and tarts; and in many parts it is called the "bushcranberry. " The name, however, by which it is known among the Indians of Red Riveris "_anepeminan_" from "_nepen_, " summer, and "_minan_, " berry. This hasbeen corrupted by the fur-traders and voyageurs into "Pembina;" hence, the name of a river which runs into the Red, and also the name of thecelebrated but unsuccessful settlement of "Pembina, " formed by LordSelkirk many years ago. Both took their names from this berry that growsin abundance in the neighbourhood. The botanical appellation of thiscurious shrub is _Viburnum oxycoccos_; but there is another species ofthe viburnum, which is also styled "oxycoccos. " The common "snowballbush" of our garden is a plant of the same genus, and very like the"Pembina, " both in leaf and flower. In fact, in a wild state they mightbe regarded as the same; but it is well known that the flowers of thesnowball are sterile, and do not produce the beautiful bright crimsonberries of the "Pembina. " Lucien lectured upon these points to his companions as they floatedalong. Norman listened with astonishment to his philosophic cousin, who, although he had never been in this region before, knew more of itsplants and trees than he did himself. Basil also was interested in theexplanations given by his brother. On the contrary, François, who caredbut little for botanical studies, or studies of any sort, was occupieddifferently. He sat near the middle of the canoe, double-barrel in hand, eagerly watching for a shot. Many species of water-fowl were upon theriver, for it was now late in the spring, and the wild geese and duckshad all arrived, and were passing northward upon their annual migration. During the day François had got several shots, and had "bagged" threewild geese, all of different kinds, for there are many species of wildgeese in America. He had also shot some ducks. But this did not satisfy him. There was abird upon the river that could not be approached. No matter how thecanoe was manoeuvred, this shy creature always took flight beforeFrançois could get within range. For days he had been endeavouring tokill one. Even upon the St. Peter's many of them had been seen, sometimes in pairs, at other times in small flocks of six or seven, butalways shy and wary. The very difficulty of getting a shot at them, along with the splendid character of the birds themselves, had renderedFrançois eager to obtain one. The bird itself was no other than thegreat wild swan--the king of aquatic birds. "Come, brother!" said François, addressing Lucien, "bother yourviburnums and your oxycocks! Tell us something about these swans. See!there goes another of them! What a splendid fellow he is! I'd givesomething to have him within range of buckshot. " As François spoke he pointed down-stream to a great white bird that wasseen moving out from the bank. It was a swan, and one of the verylargest kind--"a trumpeter. " It had been feeding in a sedge of the wild rice, and no doubt the sightof the canoe or the plash of the guiding oar had disturbed, and given itthe alarm. It shot out from the reeds with head erect and wings slightlyraised, offering to the eyes of the voyageurs a spectacle of gracefuland majestic bearing, that, among the feathered race at least, is quiteinimitable. A few strokes of its broad feet propelled it into the open water nearthe middle of the stream, when, making a half wheel, it turned head downthe river, and swam with the current. At the point where it turned it was not two hundred yards ahead of thecanoe. Its apparent boldness in permitting them to come so near withouttaking wing, led François to hope that they might get still nearer; and, begging his companions to ply the paddles, he seized hold of hisdouble-barrel, and leaned forward in the canoe. Basil also conceived ahope that a shot was to be had, for he took up his rifle, and looked tothe cock and cap. The others went steadily and quietly to work at theoars. In a few moments the canoe cleft the current at the rate of agalloping horse, and one would have supposed that the swan must eitherat once take wing or be overtaken. Not so, however. The "trumpeter" knew his game better than that. He hadfull confidence both in his strength and speed upon the water. He wasnot going to undergo the trouble of a fly, until the necessity arose forso doing; and, as it was, he seemed to be satisfied that that necessityhad not yet arrived. The swim cost him much less muscular exertion thanflying would have done, and he judged that the current, here very swift, would carry him out of reach of his pursuers. It soon began to appear that he judged rightly; and the voyageurs, totheir chagrin, saw that, instead of gaining upon him, as they hadexpected, every moment widened the distance between him and the canoe. The bird had an advantage over his pursuers. Three distinct powerspropelled him, while they had only two to rely upon. He had the currentin his favour--so had they. He had oars or paddles--his feet; they hadoars as well. He "carried sail, " while they spread not a "rag. " The windchanced to blow directly down-stream, and the broad wings of the bird, held out from his body, and half extended, caught the very pith of thebreeze on their double concave surfaces, and carried him through thewater with the velocity of an arrow. Do you think that he was not awareof this advantage when he started in the race? Do you suppose that these birds do not _think_? I for one am satisfiedthey do, and look upon every one who prates about the _instinct_ ofthese creatures as a philosopher of a very old school indeed. Not onlydoes the great swan think, but so does your parrot, and your pipingbullfinch, and the little canary that hops on your thumb. All think, and_reason_, and _judge_. Should it ever be your fortune to witness theperformance of those marvellous birds, exhibited by the graceful Mdlle. Vandermeersch in the fashionable _salons_ of Paris and London, you willagree with me in the belief that the smallest of them has a mind likeyourself. Most certainly the swan, which our voyageurs were pursuing, thought, andreasoned, and judged, and calculated his distance, and resolved to keepon "the even tenor of his way, " without putting himself to extra troubleby beating the air with his wings, and lifting his heavy body--thirtypounds at least--up into the heavens. His judgment proved sound; for, inless than ten minutes from the commencement of the chase, he had gaineda clear hundred yards upon his pursuers, and continued to widen thedistance. At intervals he raised his beak higher than usual, and utteredhis loud booming note, which fell upon the ears of the voyageurs asthough it had been sent back in mockery and defiance. They would have given up the pursuit, had they not noticed that a fewhundred yards farther down the river made a sharp turn to the right. Theswan, on reaching this, would no longer have the wind in his favour. This inspired them with fresh hopes. They thought they would be able toovertake him after passing the bend, and then, either get a shot at him, or force him into the air. The latter was the more likely; and, althoughit would be no great gratification to see him fly off, yet they hadbecome so interested in this singular chase that they desired toterminate it by putting the trumpeter to some trouble. They bent, therefore, with fresh energy to their oars, and pulled onward in thepursuit. First the swan, and after him the canoe, swung round the bend, andentered the new "reach" of the river. The voyageurs at once perceivedthat the bird now swam more slowly. He no longer "carried sail, " as thewind was no longer in his favour. His wings lay closely folded to hisbody, and he moved only by the aid of his webbed feet and the current, which last happened to be sluggish, as the river at this part spreadover a wide expanse of level land. The canoe was evidently catching up, and each stroke was bringing the pursuers nearer to the pursued. After a few minutes' brisk pulling, the trumpeter had lost so muchground that he was not two hundred yards in the advance, and "deadahead. " His body was no longer carried with the same gracefulness, andthe majestic curving of his neck had disappeared. His bill protrudedforward, and his thighs began to drag the water in his wake. He wasevidently on the threshold of flight. Both François and Basil saw this, as they stood with their guns crossed and ready. At this moment a shrill cry sounded over the water. It was the scream ofsome wild creature, ending in a strange laugh, like the laugh of amaniac! On both sides of the river there was a thick forest of tall trees of thecotton-wood species. From this forest the strange cry had proceeded, andfrom the right bank. Its echoes had hardly ceased, when it was answeredby a similar cry from the trees upon the left. So like were the two, that it seemed as if some one of God's wild creatures was mockinganother. These cries were hideous enough to frighten any one not usedto them. They had not that effect upon our voyageurs, who knew theirimport. One and all of them were familiar with the voice of the_white-headed eagle_! The trumpeter knew it as well as any of them, but on him it produced afar different effect. His terror was apparent, and his intention was allat once changed. Instead of rising into the air, as he had premeditated, he suddenly lowered his head, and disappeared under the water! Again was heard the wild scream and the maniac laugh; and the nextmoment an eagle swept out from the timber, and, after a few strokes ofits broad wing, poised itself over the spot where the trumpeter had gonedown. The other, its mate, was seen crossing at the same time from theopposite side. Presently the swan rose to the surface, but his head was hardly out ofthe water when the eagle once more uttered its wild note, and, halffolding its wings, darted down from above. The swan seemed to haveexpected this, for before the eagle could reach the surface, he had goneunder a second time, and the latter, though passing with the velocity ofan arrow, plunged his talons in the water to no purpose. With a cry ofdisappointment the eagle mounted back into the air, and commencedwheeling in circles over the spot. It was now joined by its mate, andboth kept round and round watching for the reappearance of theirintended victim. Again the swan came to the surface, but before either of the eaglescould swoop upon him he had for the third time disappeared. The swan isbut an indifferent diver; but under such circumstances he was likely todo his best at it. But what could it avail him? He must soon rise to thesurface to take breath--each time at shorter intervals. He would soonbecome fatigued and unable to dive with sufficient celerity, and thenhis cruel enemies would be down upon him with their terrible talons. Such is the usual result, unless the swan takes to the air, which hesometimes does. In the present case he had built his hopes upon adifferent means of escape. He contemplated being able to conceal himselfin a heavy sedge of bulrushes that grew along the edge of the river, andtowards these he was evidently directing his course under the water. At each emersion he appeared some yards nearer them, until at length herose within a few feet of their margin, and diving again was seen nomore! He had crept in among the sedge, and no doubt was lying with onlyhis head, or part of it, above the water, his body concealed by thebroad leaves of the _nymphĉ_, while the head itself could not bedistinguished among the white flowers that lay thickly along thesurface. The eagles now wheeled over the sedge, flapping the tops of thebulrushes with their broad wings, and screaming with disappointed rage. Keen as were their eyes they could not discover the hiding-place oftheir victim. No doubt they would have searched for it a long time, butthe canoe--which they now appeared to notice for the first time--hadfloated near; and, becoming aware of their own danger, both mounted intothe air again, and with a farewell scream flew off, and alighted at somedistance down the river. "A swan for supper!" shouted François, as he poised his gun for theexpected shot. The canoe was headed for the bulrushes near the point where thetrumpeter had been last seen; and a few strokes of the paddles broughtthe little craft with a whizzing sound among the sedge. But the culms ofthe rushes were so tall, and grew so closely together, that thecanoe-men, after entering, found to their chagrin they could not see sixfeet around them. They dared not stand up, for this is exceedinglydangerous in a birch canoe, where the greatest caution is necessary tokeep the vessel from careening over. Moreover, the sedge was so thick, that it was with difficulty they could use their oars. They remained stationary for a time, surrounded by a wall of greenbulrush. They soon perceived that that would never do, and resolved topush back into the open water. Meanwhile Marengo had been sent into thesedge, and was now heard plunging and sweltering about in search of thegame. Marengo was not much of a water-dog by nature, but he had beentrained to almost every kind of hunting, and his experience among theswamps of Louisiana had long since relieved him of all dread for thewater. His masters therefore had no fear but that Marengo would "put up"the trumpeter. Marengo had been let loose a little too soon. Before the canoe could becleared of the entangling sedge, the dog was heard to utter one of hisloud growls, then followed a heavy plunge, there was a confusedfluttering of wings, and the great white bird rose majestically into theair! Before either of the gunners could direct their aim, he was beyondthe range of shot, and both prudently reserved their fire. Marengohaving performed his part, swam back to the canoe, and was lifted overthe gunwale. The swan, after clearing the sedge, rose almost vertically into the air. These birds usually fly at a great elevation--sometimes entirely beyondthe reach of sight. Unlike the wild geese and ducks, they never alightupon land, but always upon the bosom of the water. It was evidently theintention of this one to go far from the scene of his late dangers, perhaps to the great lake Winnipeg itself. After attaining a height of several hundred yards, he flew forward in ahorizontal course, and followed the direction of the stream. His flightwas now regular, and his trumpet note could be heard at intervals, as, with outstretched neck, he glided along the heavens. He seemed to feelthe pleasant sensations that every creature has after an escape fromdanger, and no doubt he fancied himself secure. But in this fancy hedeceived himself. Better for him had he risen a few hundred yardshigher, or else had uttered his self-gradulation in a more subdued tone;for it was heard and answered, and that response was the maniac laugh ofthe white-headed eagle. At the same instant two of these birds--those already introduced--wereseen mounting into the air. They did not fly up vertically, as the swanhad done, but in spiral curves, wheeling and crossing each other as theyascended. They were making for a point that would intersect the flightof the swan should he keep on in his horizontal course. This, however, he did not do. With an eye as quick as theirs, he saw that he was"headed;" and, stretching his long neck upward, he again pursued analmost vertical line. But he had to carry thirty pounds of flesh and bones, while the largestof the eagles--the female bird--with a still broader spread of wing, wasa "light weight" of only seven. The result of this difference was soonapparent. Before the trumpeter had got two hundred yards higher, thefemale of the eagles was seen wheeling around him on the same level. The swan was now observed to double, fly downward, and then upwardagain, while his mournful note echoed back to the earth. But his effortswere in vain. After a series of contortions and manoeuvres, the eagledarted forward, with a quick toss threw herself back-downward, and, striking upward, planted her talons in the under part of the wing of hervictim. The lacerated shaft fell uselessly down; and the great whitebird, no longer capable of flight, came whistling through the air. [Illustration: THE TRUMPETER SWAN AND THE BALD EAGLE. ] But it was not allowed to drop directly to the earth; it would havefallen on the bosom of the broad river, and that the eagles did notwish, as it would have given them some trouble to get the heavy carcassashore. As soon as the male--who was lower in the air--saw that hispartner had struck the bird, he discontinued his upward flight, and, poising himself on his spread tail, waited its descent. A single instantwas sufficient. The white object passed him still fluttering; but themoment it was below his level he shot after it like an arrow, and, clutching it in his talons, with an outward stroke sent it whizzing in adiagonal direction. The next moment a crashing was heard among thetwigs, and a dull sound announced that the swan had fallen upon theearth. The eagles were now seen sailing downward, and soon disappeared amongthe tops of the trees. The canoe soon reached the bank; and François, accompanied by Basil andMarengo, leaped ashore, and went in search of the birds. They found theswan quite dead and lying upon its back as the eagles had turned it. Itsbreast was torn open, and the crimson blood, with which they had beengorging themselves, was spread in broad flakes over its snowy plumage. The eagles themselves, scared by the dog Marengo, had taken flightbefore the boys could get within shot of them. As it was just the hour for a "noon halt" and a luncheon, the swan wascarried to the bank of the river, where a crackling fire was soonkindled to roast him. CHAPTER IV A SWAN-HUNT BY TORCHLIGHT A few days brought our travellers to the settlement of Red River, wherethey made but a very short stay; and, having procured a few articleswhich they stood in need of, they resumed their journey, and floated ontowards Lake Winnipeg. The swans were seen in greater numbers than ever. They were not less shy however, and François, as before, in vain triedto get a shot at one. He was very desirous of bringing down one of these noble birds, partlybecause the taste he had had of their flesh had given him a liking forit; and partly because their shyness had greatly tantalized him. One isalways more eager to kill shy game, both on account of the rarity of thething, and the credit one gets for his expertness. But the voyageurs hadnow got within less than twenty miles of Lake Winnipeg, and François hadnot as yet shot a single swan. It was not at all likely the eagles wouldhelp him to another. So there would be no more roast swan for supper. Norman, seeing how eager François was to shoot one of these birds, resolved to aid him by his advice. "Cousin Frank, " said he, one evening as they floated along, "you wishvery much to get a shot at the swans?" "I do, " replied François, --"I do; and if you can tell me how toaccomplish that business, I'll make you a present of this knife. " HereFrançois held up a very handsome clasp-knife that he carried in hispouch. A knife in the fur countries is no insignificant affair. With a knifeyou may sometimes buy a horse, or a tent, or a whole carcass of beef, or, what is stranger still, a wife! To the hunter in these wildregions--perhaps a thousand miles from where knives are sold--such athing is of very great value indeed; but the knife which Françoisoffered to his cousin was a particularly fine one, and the latter hadonce expressed a wish to become the owner of it. He was not slow, therefore, in accepting the conditions. "Well, " rejoined he, "you must consent to travel a few miles by night, and I think I can promise you a shot at the trumpeters--perhapsseveral. " "What say you, brothers?" asked François, appealing to Basil and Lucien;"shall we have the sport? Say yes. " "Oh! I have no objection, " said Lucien. "Nor I, " added Basil. "On the contrary, I should like it above allthings. I wish very much to know what plan our cousin shall adopt. Inever heard of any mode of approaching these birds. " "Very well, then, " answered Norman, "I shall have the pleasure ofinstructing you in a way that is in use in these parts among theIndians, who hunt the swan for its skin and quills, which they trade tous at the post. We can manage it to-night, I think, " continued he, looking up at the sky: "there is no moon, and the sky is thick. Yes, itwill be dark enough. " "Is it necessary the night should be a dark one?" asked François. "The darker the better, " replied Norman. "To-night, if I am notmistaken, will be as black as pitch. But we need to make somepreparations. It is near sundown, and we shall have just time to getready for the business. Let us get ashore, then, as quickly aspossible. " "Oh! certainly--let us land, " replied all three at once. The canoe was now turned to the shore; and when it had arrived within afew feet of the land it was brought to a stop. Its keel was not allowedto touch the bottom of the river, as that would have injured the littlecraft. The greatest precaution is always observed both in landing andembarking these vessels. The voyageurs first get out and wade to theshore, one or two remaining to hold the canoe in its place. The cargo, whatever it be, is then taken out and landed; and after that the canoeitself is lifted out of the water, and carried ashore, where it is set, bottom upward, to dry. The birch-bark canoe is so frail a structure, that, were it broughtrudely in contact either with the bottom or the bank, it would be verymuch damaged, or might go to pieces altogether. Hence the care withwhich it is handled. It is dangerous, also, to stand upright in it, asit is so "crank" that it would easily turn over, and spill bothcanoe-men and cargo into the water. The voyageurs, therefore, when oncethey have got in, remain seated during the whole passage, shifting aboutas little as they can help. When landed for the night, the canoe isalways taken out of the water as described. The bark is of a somewhatspongy nature; and if left in the water for a length of time, wouldbecome soaked and heavy, and would not run so well. When kept all night, bottom upward, it drips and becomes dryer and lighter. In the morning, at the commencement of the day's journey, it sits higher upon the waterthan in the afternoon and evening, and is at that time more easilypaddled along. Our voyageurs, having got on shore, first kindled a fire to cook theirsupper. This they intended to despatch earlier than usual, so as to givethem the early part of the night for their swan hunt, which theyexpected to finish before midnight. Lucien did the cooking, whileNorman, assisted by Basil and François, made his preparations for thehunt. François, who was more interested in the result than any of them, watched every movement of his cousin. Nothing escaped him. Norman proceeded as follows:-- He walked off into the woods, accompanied by François. After going aboutan hundred yards or so, he stopped at the foot of a certain tree. Thetree was a birch--easily distinguished by its smooth, silvery bark. Bymeans of his sharp hunting-knife he "girdled" this tree near the ground, and then higher up, so that the length between the two "girdlings, " orcircular cuttings, was about four feet. He then made a longitudinalincision by drawing the point of his knife from one circle to the other. This done he inserted the blade under the bark, and peeled it off, as hewould have taken the skin from a buffalo. The tree was a foot indiameter, consequently the bark, when stripped off and spread flat, wasabout three feet in width; for you must remember that the circumferenceof a circle or a cylinder is always about three times the length of itsdiameter, and therefore a tree is three times as much "_round_" as it is"_through_. " They now returned to the camp-fire, taking along with them the piece ofbark that had been cut off. This was spread out, though not quite flat, still leaving it somewhat curved. The convex side, that which had laintowards the tree, was now blackened with pulverized charcoal, whichNorman had directed Basil to prepare for the purpose; and to the bark atone end was fastened a stake or shaft. Nothing more remained but to fixthis stake in the canoe, in an upright position near the bow, and insuch a way that the bottom of the piece of bark would be upon a levelwith the seats, with its hollow side looking forward. It would thus forma screen, and prevent those in the canoe from being seen by any creaturethat might be ahead. When all this had been arranged, Norman shouldered the axe, and againwalked off into the woods. This time his object was to obtain a quantityof "knots" of the pitch-pine (_Pinus rigida_), which he knew would mostlikely be found in such a situation. The tree was soon discovered, andpointed out to François, who accompanied him as before. François sawthat it was a tree of about fifty feet in height, and a foot in diameterat its base. Its bark was thick, very dark in the colour, and full ofcracks or fissures. Its leaves, or "needles, " were about three incheslong, and grew in threes, each three forming a little bunch, boundtogether at its base by a brownish sheath. These bunches, in botanical language, are termed "fasciles. " The coneswere somewhat shorter than the leaves, nearly the shape of eggs, andclustered together in threes and fours. François noticed that the treewas thickly branched, and therefore there are many knots in the wood. For this reason it is not much use as timber; but on account of theresin which it contains, it is the best species for firewood; and forthat purpose it is used in all parts of the United States, where itgrows. Most of the _pine-wood_ sold for fuel in the large cities ofAmerica is the wood of this species. François supposed that his companion was about to fell one of the trees. He was mistaken, however; Norman had no such intention; he had onlystopped before one to examine it, and make sure that it was the specieshe was in search of. He was soon satisfied of this, and moved on, directing his eyes along the ground. Again he stopped; but this time itwas by a tree that had already fallen--blown down, perhaps, by the wind. It was half decayed; but François could see that it was one of the samespecies--the pitch-pine. This was the very thing Norman wanted, and plying his axe, he soonknocked out a large quantity of the resinous knots. These he at lengthcollected, and putting them into a bag, returned with François to thefire. He then announced that he had no further preparations to make. All four now sat down to supper, which consisted of dry meat, withbiscuits and coffee; and, as their appetites were sharpened by theirwater journey, they made a hearty meal of it. As soon as they had finished eating, the canoe was launched and gotready. The screen of birch-bark was set up, by lashing its shaft to thebottom timbers, and also to one of the seats. Immediately in front ofthis, and out upon the bow, was placed the frying-pan; and this havingbeen secured by being tied at the handle, was filled with drypine-knots, ready to be kindled at a moment's notice. These arrangementsbeing made, the hunters only awaited the darkness to set forth. In the progress of their hunt they would be carried still fartherdown-stream; but as that was the direction in which they weretravelling, they would only be progressing on their journey, and thus"killing two birds with one stone. " This was altogether a very pleasantconsideration; and having stowed everything snugly in the canoe, theysat chatting agreeably and waiting for the arrival of night. Night came at length, and, as Norman had predicted, it was as "dark aspitch. " Stepping gently into the canoe, and seating themselves in theirrespective places, they pushed out and commenced floating down-stream. Norman sat near the bow, in order to attend to his torch of pine-knots. François was next to him, holding his double-barrel, loaded withbuckshot, which is the same size as that used for swans, and in Englandis even known as "swan-shot. " Next came Basil with his rifle. He sat near François, just by the middleof the little vessel. Lucien, who was altogether a man of peaceprinciples, and but little of a shot compared with either of hisbrothers, handled the oar--not to propel the canoe, but merely to guideit. In this way the party floated on in silence. Norman soon kindled his torch, which now cast its red glare over thesurface of the river, extending its fiery radii even to the banks onboth sides of the stream. The trees that overhung the water seemedtinged with vermilion, and the rippling wave sparkled like liquid gold. The light only extended over a semicircle. From the manner in which thetorch was placed, its light did not fall upon the other half of thecircle, and this, by contrast, appeared even darker than it wouldotherwise have done. The advantage of the plan which Norman had adopted was at once apparentto all. Ahead of the canoe the whole river was plainly seen, for adistance of several hundred yards. No object larger than a cork couldhave floated on its surface, without being visible to those in thevessel--much less the great white body of a trumpeter swan. Astern ofthe canoe, on the other hand, all was pitchy darkness, and any onelooking at the vessel from a position ahead could have seen nothing butthe bright torch and the black uniform surface behind it. As I have already stated, the convex side of the bark was _towards_ theblaze, and the pan containing the torch being placed close into thescreen, none of the light could possibly fall upon the forms of thosewithin the canoe. They were therefore invisible to any creature from thefront, while they themselves could see everything before them. Two questions yet remained unanswered. First--would our hunters find anyswans on the river? Second--if they should, would these birds allowthemselves to be approached near enough to be shot at? The firstquestion Norman, of course, could not answer. That was a matter beyondhis knowledge or control. The swans might or might not appear, but itwas to be hoped they would. It was likely enough. Many had been seen onthe preceding day, and why not then? To the second question, the youngCanadian gave a definite reply. He assured his cousins that, if met with, the birds would be easilyapproached in this manner; he had often hunted them so. They wouldeither keep their place, and remain until the light came very near them, or they would move towards it (as he had many times known them to do), attracted by curiosity and the novelty of the spectacle. He had hunteddeer in the same manner; he had shot, he said, hundreds of these animalsupon the banks of rivers, where they had come down to the water todrink, and stood gazing at the light. His cousins could well credit his statements. They themselves had hunteddeer by torchlight in the woods of Louisiana, where it is termed"fire-hunting. " They had killed several in this way. The creatures as ifheld by some fascination, would stand with head erect looking at thetorch carried by one of the party, while the other took sight betweentheir glancing eyes and fired the deadly bullet. Remembering this, theycould easily believe that the swans might act in a similar manner. It was not long until they were convinced of it by actual experience. Asthe canoe rounded a bend in the river, three large white objectsappeared in the "reach" before them. A single glance satisfied all thatthey were swans, though in the deceptive glare of the torch, theyappeared even larger than swans. Their long upright necks, however, convinced the party they could be nothing else, and the canoe was headeddirectly for them. As our hunters approached, one of the birds was heard to utter hisstrange trumpet note, and this he repeated at intervals as they drewnearer. "I have heard that they sing before death, " muttered François to Basil, who sat nearest him. "If so, I hope that's the song itself;" andFrançois laughed quietly at the joke he had perpetrated. Basil also laughed; and Lucien, who had overheard the remark, could notrefrain himself from joining in the laughter. "I fear not, " rejoined Basil; "there is hardly enough music in the noteto call it a song. They may live to 'blow their own trumpet' a longwhile yet. " This remark called forth a fresh chorus of laughter, in which all tookpart; but it was a very silent kind of laughter, that could not havebeen heard ten yards off: it might have been termed "laughing in awhisper. " It soon ended, however, as matters now became serious: they were alreadywithin less than two hundred yards of the game, and the greatest cautionhad to be observed. The gunners had arranged the order of fire: Basilwas to shoot first, taking steady aim with his rifle at any one of thebirds; while François should fire as soon as he heard the report of hisbrother's gun, taking the remaining swans upon the wing, with one orboth barrels, as he best might. At length Basil deemed himself near enough, and, levelling his piece, fired. The bird threw out its wings, and flattened down upon the water, almost without a struggle. The other two were rising into the air, when"crack! crack!" went the two barrels of François' piece, and one of theswans fell back with a broken wing, and fluttered over the surface ofthe stream. Basil's had been shot dead, and was taken up easily; but thewounded bird was only captured after a long chase with the canoe; andwhen overtaken, it struck so fiercely with its remaining wing, that oneof the blows inflicted a painful wound on the wrist of François. Both, however, were at length got safely aboard, and proved to be a male andfemale of the largest dimensions. CHAPTER V "CAST AWAY" Of course, the reports of the guns must have frightened any other swansthat were near. It was not likely they would find any more before goingsome distance farther down the river; so, having stowed away in a safeplace the two already killed, the hunters paddled rapidly onward. They had hardly gone half-a-mile farther, when another flock of swanswas discovered. These were approached in a similar way, and no less thanthree were obtained--François making a remarkable shot, and killing withboth barrels. A little farther down, one of the "hoopers" was killed;and still farther on, another trumpeter; making in all no less thanseven swans that lay dead in the bottom of the canoe! These seven great birds almost filled the little craft to the gunwales, and you would think that our "torch-hunters" ought to have been contentwith such a spoil; but the hunter is hard to satisfy with game, and buttoo often inclined to "spill much more blood" than is necessary to hiswants. Our voyageurs, instead of desisting, again set the canoe inmotion, and continued the hunt. A short distance below the place where they had shot the last swan, asthey were rounding a bend in the river, a loud rushing sounded in theirears, similar to that produced by a cascade or waterfall. On firsthearing it, they were startled and somewhat alarmed. It might be a"fall, " thought they. Norman could not tell: he had never travelled thisroute; he did not know whether there were falls in the Red River or not, but he believed not. In his voyage to the South, he had travelled byanother route; that was, up the Winnipeg River, and through Rainy Lakeand the Lake of the Woods to Lake Superior. This is the usual andwell-known track followed by the _employés_ of the Hudson's BayCompany; and Norman had travelled it. In this uncertainty the canoe was brought to a stop, and our voyageursremained listening. The noise made by the water was not very distant, and sounded like the roaring of "rapids, " or the rush of a "fall. " Itwas evidently one or the other; but, after listening to it for aconsiderable time, all came to the conclusion that the sound did notproceed from the Red River itself, but from some stream that emptiedinto it upon the right. With this belief they again put the canoe inmotion, and glided slowly and cautiously onward. Their conjecture proved to be correct. As they approached nearer, theyperceived that the noise appeared every moment more and more to theirright; and presently they saw, below them, a rapid current sweeping intothe Red River from the right bank. This was easily distinguished by thewhite froth and bubbles that were carried along upon its surface, andwhich had evidently been produced by some fall over which the water hadlately passed. The hunters now rowed fearlessly forward, and in a fewmoments came opposite the _débouchure_ of the tributary stream, when aconsiderable cascade appeared to their view, not thirty yards from theRed River itself. The water foamed and dashed over a series of steps, and then swept rapidly on, in a frothy current. They had entered thiscurrent, and were now carried along with increased velocity, so that theoarsmen suspended operations, and drew their paddles within the canoe. A flock of swans now drew their attention. It was the largest flock theyhad yet seen, numbering nearly a score of these noble birds, --a sight, as Norman informed them, that was exceedingly rare even in the mostfavoured haunts of the swan. Rarely are more than six or seven seentogether, and oftener only two or three. A grand _coup_ was determinedupon. Norman took up his own gun, and even Lucien, who managed the sternoar, and guided the craft, also brought his piece--a very smallrifle--close to his hand, so that he might have a shot as well as theothers. The canoe was directed in such a manner that, by merely keeping its headdown the stream, it would float to the spot where the swans were. In a short while they approached very near the great birds, and ourhunters could see them sitting on the water, with upraised necks, gazingin wonder at the torch. Whether they sounded their strange note was notknown, for the "sough" of the waterfall still echoed in the ears of thecanoe-men, and they could not hear aught else. Basil and Norman fired first, and simultaneously; but the louderdetonations of François' double-barrel, and even the tiny crack ofLucien's rifle, were heard almost the instant after. Three of the birdswere killed by the volley, while a fourth, evidently "winged, " was seento dive, and flutter down-stream. The others mounted into the air, anddisappeared in the darkness. During the time occupied in this manoeuvre, the canoe, no longer guidedby Lucien's oar, had been caught by some eddy in the current, and sweptround stern-foremost. In this position the light no longer shone uponthe river ahead, but was thrown up-stream. All in a downward directionwas buried in deep darkness. Before the voyageurs could bring the canoeback to its proper direction, a new sound fell upon their ears thatcaused some of them to utter a cry of terror. It was the noise ofrushing water, but not that which they had already heard and passed. Itwas before them in the river itself. Perhaps it was a cataract, and_they were sweeping rapidly to its brink_! The voice of Norman was heard exclaiming, "Hold with your oars!--therapids!--the rapids!" At the same time he himself was seen rising up andstretching forward for an oar. All was now consternation; and themovements of the party naturally consequent upon such a sudden panicshook the little craft until her gunwales lipped the water. At the sametime she had swung round, until the light again showed the stream ahead, and a horrid sight it was. Far as the eye could see, was a reach of foaming rapids. Dark points ofrocks, and huge black boulders, thickly scattered in the channel, juttedabove the surface; and around and against these, the water frothed andhissed furiously. There was no cataract, it is true--there is none suchin Red River--but for all purposes of destruction the rapids before themwere equally dangerous and terrible to the eyes of our voyageurs. Theyno longer thought of the swans. The dead were permitted to float downunheeded, the wounded to make its escape. Their only thought was to stopthe canoe before it should be carried upon the rapids. With this intent all had taken to the oars, but in spite of everyexertion they soon found that the light craft had got within theinfluence of the strong current, and was sucked downward more rapidlythan ever. Their backward strokes were to no purpose. In a few seconds the canoe had passed over the first stage of therapids, and shot down with the velocity of an arrow. A huge boulder laydirectly in the middle of the channel, and against this the currentbroke with fury, laving its sides in foaming masses. The canoe washurried to this point; and as the light was again turned up-stream, noneof the voyageurs could see this dangerous rock. But they could not haveshunned it then. The boat had escaped from their control, and spun roundat will. The rock once more came under the light, but just as the canoe, with a heavy crash, was driven against it. For some moments the vessel, pressed by the current against the rock, remained motionless, but her sides were stove in, and the water wasrushing through. The quick eye of Basil--cool in all crises of extremedanger--perceived this at a glance. He saw that the canoe was a wreck, and nothing remained but to save themselves as they best might. Droppingthe oar, and seizing his rifle, he called to his companions to leap tothe rock; and all together immediately sprang over the gunwale. The dogMarengo followed after. The canoe, thus lightened, heeled round into the current, and swept on. The next moment she struck another rock, and was carried over on herbeams. The water then rushed in--the white bodies of the swans, with therobes, blankets, and implements, rose on the wave; the blazing knotswere spilled from the pan, and fell with a hissing sound; and a fewseconds after they were extinguished, and all was darkness! CHAPTER VI A BRIDGE OF BUCKSKIN The canoe was lost, and all it had contained, or nearly all. Thevoyageurs had saved only their guns, knives, and the powder-horns andpouches, that had been attached to their persons. One other thing hadbeen saved--an axe which Basil had flung upon the rock as he stepped outof the sinking vessel. All the rest--robes, blankets, swans, cookingutensils, bags of provisions, such as coffee, flour, and driedmeat--were lost--irrecoverably lost. These had either drifted off uponthe surface, or been carried under water and hidden among the loosestones at the bottom. No matter where, they were lost; and our voyageursnow stood on a small naked rock in the middle of the stream, withnothing left but the clothes upon their backs, and the arms in theirhands. Such was their condition. There was something so sudden and awful in the mishap that had befallenthem, that for some minutes they stood upon the spot where they hadsettled without moving or addressing a word to one another. They gazedafter the canoe. They knew that it was wrecked, although they could seenothing either of it or its contents. Thick darkness enveloped them, rendered more intense from the sudden extinction of the torchlight. Theysaw nothing but the foam flickering along the river; like the ghosts ofthe swans they had killed, and they heard only the roaring of the water, that sounded in their ears with a hoarse and melancholy wail. For a long time they stood impressed with the lamentable condition intowhich the accident had plunged them; and a lamentable condition it was, sure enough. They were on a small rock in the midst of a rapid river. They were in the midst of a great wilderness too, many long miles from asettlement. The nearest could only be reached by travelling throughpathless forests, and over numerous and deep rivers. Impassable swamps, and lakes with marshy shores, lay on the route, and barred the directcourse, and all this journey would have to be made on foot. But none of our young voyageurs were of that stamp to yield themselvesto despair. One and all of them had experienced perils before--greatereven than that in which they now stood. As soon, therefore, as theybecame fully satisfied that their little vessel was wrecked, and all itscontents scattered, instead of despairing, their first thoughts were howto make the best of their situation. For that night, at least, they were helpless. They could not leave therock. It was surrounded by rapids. Sharp, jagged points peeped out ofthe water, and between these the current rushed with impetuosity. In thedarkness no human being could have crossed to either shore in safety. Toattempt it would have been madness, and our voyageurs soon came to thisconclusion. They had no other choice than to remain where they wereuntil the morning; so, seating themselves upon the rock, they preparedto pass the night. They sat huddled close together. They could not lie down--there was notroom enough for that. They kept awake most of the night, one or other ofthem, overcome by fatigue, occasionally nodding over in a sort ofhalf-sleep, but awaking again after a few minutes' uncomfortabledreaming. They talked but little, as the noise of the rushing rapidsrendered conversation painful. To be heard, they were under thenecessity of shouting to one another, like passengers in an omnibus. Itwas cold, too. None of them had been much wetted in escaping from thecanoe; but they had saved neither overcoat, blanket, nor buffalo-robe;and, although it was now late in the spring, the nights near LakeWinnipeg, even at that season, are chilly. They were above the latitudeof 50°; and although in England, which is on that parallel, it is notvery cold of a spring night, it must be remembered that the line ofequal temperature--in the language of meteorologists the "_isothermalline_, "--is of a much lower latitude in America than in Europe. Our voyageurs were chilled to the very bones, and of course glad to seethe daylight glimmering through the tops of the trees that grew upon thebanks of the river. As soon as day broke, they began to consider howthey would reach those trees. Although swimming a river of that widthwould have been to any of the four a mere bagatelle, they saw that itwas not to be so easy an affair. Had they been upon either bank, theycould have crossed to the other without difficulty--as they would havechosen a place where the water was comparatively still. On the rock theyhad no choice, as the rapids extended on both sides above and below it. Between the boulders the current rushed so impetuously, that had theyattempted to swim to either bank, they would have been carried downward, and perhaps dashed with violence against one or other of the sharpstones. As soon as it was light, they saw all this; not without feelings ofapprehension and uneasiness. Their whole attention was now occupied withthe one object--how they should get to the bank of the river. The right bank was the more distant; but the passage in that directionappeared the easier one. The current was not so swift, nor yet did itseem so deep. They thought they might ford it, and Basil made theattempt; but he soon got beyond his depth; and was obliged, after beingcarried off his feet, to swim up under the lee of the rock again. From the rock to the right bank was about an hundred yards' distance. Here and there, at irregular intervals, sharp, jagged stones rose abovethe surface, some of them projecting three feet or more out of thewater, and looking very much like upright tombstones. Lucien had noticedthese, and expressed the opinion that if they only had a rope, theymight fling it over one of these stones, and then, holding it fast atthe other end, might pass by that means from one to the other. The suggestion was a good one, but where was the rope to come from? Alltheir ropes and cords--lassoes and all--had been swept away in thewreck. Not a string remained, except those that fastened their horns, flasks, and other accoutrements; and these were only small thongs, andwould be of no use for such a purpose. It would require a rope strongenough to carry the weight of a man impelled by a rapid current--infact, a weight equal to that of several men. They all set to thinkinghow this was to be obtained. Each looked at the other, and scanned thestraps and thongs that were around their bodies. They were satisfied at a glance that these would not be sufficient tomake such a rope as was wanted. They did not give up the hope of beingable to obtain one. They were all of them accustomed to resort tostrange expedients, and a sufficiently strange one now suggested itself. Basil and Norman seemed to have thought of it at the same time, for bothat once unbuckled their straps, and commenced pulling off their buckskinhunting-shirts. The others said nothing, as they knew well what theywere going to do with them--they knew they intended cutting them intostrips, and then twisting a rope out of them. All four set to work together. Lucien and François held the shirts taut, while Basil and Norman handled the knives, and in a few minutes the rockwas covered with strips of buckskin about two inches wide, by a yard orso in length. These were next joined and plaited together in such amanner that a rope was formed nearly forty feet long. An eye was made atone end, and through this the other end was reeved--so that a runningnoose was obtained, in the same manner as the Mexicans and Indians maketheir lassoes. The rope was now ready for use, and Basil was the veryhand to use it; for Basil knew how to fling a lasso as well as eitherMexican or Indian. He had practised it often, and had lassoed many along-horned bull upon the prairies of Opelousas and the Attakapas. ToBasil, therefore, the rope was given. He placed himself on the highest part of the rock, having first coiledthe new-made lasso, and hung the coil lightly over his left arm. He thentook the noose-end in his right hand, and commenced winding it aroundhis head. His companions had laid themselves flat, so as not to be inthe way of the noose as it circled about. After a few turns the rope waslaunched forth, and a loud "hurrah!" from François announced that thethrow was successful. It was so in fact, as the noose was seen settling smoothly over thejutting-stone, taking full hold upon it. A pull from Basil fixed it; andin a few minutes it was made quite fast, without the slightest danger ofits slipping off. The other end was then carried round a projectingpoint of the rock on which they stood, and knotted firmly, so that therope was quite taut, and stretched in a nearly horizontal direction, about a foot above the surface of the water. The voyageurs now prepared to cross over. Their guns, pouches, andflasks were carefully secured, so that the water could not damage them. Then each took a piece of the buckskin thong, and fastened it round hiswaist, leaving enough to form a running loop. This loop was intended toembrace the rope, and run along it, as they drew themselves forward bytheir hands. Basil passed over first. He was the oldest, and, as he asserted, it wasbut right he should run the risk in testing the new-fashioned bridge, ofwhich he was the architect. It worked admirably, and sustained theweight of his body, with the whole force of the current acting upon it. Of course he was swept far down, and the rope was stretched to its fulltension, but he succeeded in handing himself along, until he was able totouch the second rock, and clamber upon it in safety. During the passageacross he was watched by his companions with emotions of no ordinarycharacter, but as soon as he had reached the opposite end of the ropeall three uttered a loud and simultaneous cheer. Lucien passed overnext, and after him François. Notwithstanding his danger, Françoislaughed loudly all the time he was in the water, while his brothers werenot without some fears for his safety. Marengo was next attached to therope, and pulled safely over. Norman was the last to cross upon the buckskin bridge, but, like theothers, he landed in safety; and the four, with the dog, now stood uponthe little isolated boulder where there was just room enough to givethem all a footing. A difficulty now presented itself, which they had not hitherto thoughtof. Another reach of rapid current was to be crossed, before they couldsafely trust themselves to enter the water. This they knew before, butthey had also noticed that there was another jutting rock, upon whichthey might fling their rope. But the rope itself was now the difficulty. It was fast at both ends, and how were they to release it from the rockthey had left? One of them could easily cross over again and untie it, but how was he to get back to the others? Here was a dilemma which hadnot presented itself before, and they now saw themselves no better offthan ever. The rapid that remained to be crossed, was as dangerous asthe one they had succeeded in passing. There was no hope that they couldswim it in safety. They would certainly be swept with violence againstthe rocks below. There was no chance, then, of their going an inchfarther--unless by some means similar to that they had just used, andthe rope was no longer at their service. For some time they all stood silent, each considering the matter in hisown way. How could they free the rope? "It cannot be done, " said one. "Impossible, " rejoined another. "We must make a second rope. François'sshirt still remains, and our leggings--we can use them. " This was the mode suggested by François and Norman, and Lucien seemed toassent to it. They had already commenced untying their leggings, whenBasil uttered the ejaculation-- "Stop!" "Well, what is it, brother?" asked Lucien. "I think I can free the rope at the other end. At all events, let metry. It will not cost much, either in time or trouble. " "How do you mean to do it, brother?" "Sit close, all of you. Give me room--you shall see presently. " As directed by Basil, they all cowered closely down, so as to occupy aslittle space as possible. Basil, having uncovered the lock of hisrifle--which had been carefully bound up in a piece of deer'sbladder--placed himself in a firm position, and appeared as if about tofire. Such was his intention--for in a few moments he was seen to raisethe gun to his shoulder, and take aim. None of his companions uttered aword. They had already guessed the object of this movement, and satsilently awaiting the result. On the rock which they had left, the rope still bound fast passed aroundone of the angles, in such a way that, from the point where Basil stood, it offered a fair mark. It was at this Basil was aiming. His object wasto cut the thong with his bullet. He could not do it with a single shot, as the thong was broader than the bullet, but he had calculated that hemight effect his purpose with several. If he did not succeed in cuttingit clean through, the ball flattening upon the rock would, perhaps, tearthe rope in such a manner that, by pulling by the other end, they mightdetach it. Such were the calculations and hopes of Basil. A moment more and the crack of his rifle was heard. At the same instantthe dust rose up from the point at which he had aimed, and several smallfragments flew off into the water. Again was heard François's "hurrah, "for François, as well as the others, had seen that the rope had been hitat the right place, and now exhibited a mangled appearance. While Basil was reloading, Norman took aim and fired. Norman was a goodshot, though perhaps not so good a one as Basil, for that was no easymatter, as there were few such marksmen to be found anywhere, not evenamong the professional trappers and hunters themselves. But Norman was afair shot, and this time hit his mark. The thong was evidently betterthan half divided by the two bullets. Seeing this, François took hold ofthe other end, and gave it a strong jerk or two, but it was still toomuch for him, and he ceased pulling and waited the effect of Basil'ssecond shot. The later had now reloaded, and, taking deliberate aim again, fired. Therope was still held taut upon the rock, for part of it dragged in thecurrent, the force of which kept pressing it hard downward. Scarcely wasthe report heard, when the farther end of the thong flew from itsfastening, and, swept by the running water, was seen falling into thelee of the boulder on which the party now stood. A third time was heardthe voice of François uttering one of his customary "hurrahs. " The ropewas now dragged up, and made ready for further use. Basil again tookhold of it; and, after coiling it as before, succeeded in throwing thenoose over the third rock, where it settled and held fast. The other endwas tied as before, and all passed safely to the new station. Here, however, their labour ended. They found that from this point to theshore the river was shallow, and fordable; and, leaving the rope whereit was, all four took the water, and waded safely to the bank. CHAPTER VII DECOYING THE ANTELOPES For the present, then, our voyageurs had escaped. They were safe uponthe river's bank; but when we consider the circumstances in which theywere placed, we shall perceive that they were far from being pleasantones. They were in the midst of a wilderness, without either horse orboat to carry them out of it. They had lost everything but their armsand their axe. The hunting-shirts of some of them, as we have seen, weredestroyed, and they would now suffer from the severe cold that even insummer, as we have said, often reigns in these latitudes. Not a vesselwas left them for cooking with, and not a morsel of meat or anything wasleft to be cooked. For their future subsistence they would have todepend upon their guns, which, with their ammunition, they hadfortunately preserved. After reaching the shore, their first thoughts were about procuringsomething to eat. They had now been a long time without food, and allfour were hungry enough. As if by one impulse, all cast their eyesaround, and looked upward among the branches of the trees, to see if anyanimal could be discovered that might serve them for a meal. Bird orquadruped, it mattered not, so that it was large enough to give the foura breakfast. But neither one nor the other was to be seen, although thewoods around had a promising appearance. The trees were large, and asthere was much underwood, consisting of berry-bushes and plants withedible roots, our voyageurs did not doubt that there would be found gamein abundance. It was agreed, then, that Lucien and François shouldremain on the spot and kindle a fire, while Basil and Norman went off insearch of something to be cooked upon it. In less than an hour the latter returned, carrying an animal upon hisshoulders, which both the boys recognised as an old acquaintance--theprong-horned antelope, so called from the single fork or prong upon itshorns. Norman called it "a goat, " and stated that this was its nameamong the fur-traders, while the Canadian voyageurs give it the title of"cabree. " Lucien, However, knew the animal well. He knew it was not ofthe goat kind, but a true antelope, and the only animal of that genusfound in North America. Its habitat is the prairie country, and at thepresent time it is not found farther east than the prairies extend, notfarther north either, as it is not a creature that can bear extremecold. In early times, however--that is nearly two centuries ago--it must haveranged nearly to the Atlantic shores, as Father Hennipen in his_Travels_ speaks of "goats" being killed in the neighbourhood ofNiagara, meaning no other than the prong-horned antelopes. The true wildgoat of America is a very different animal, and is only found in theremote regions of the Rocky Mountains. What Norman had shot, then, was an antelope; and the reason why it iscalled "cabree" by the voyageurs, and "goat" by the fur-traders, ispartly from its colour resembling that of the common goat, but more fromthe fact, that along the upper part of its neck there is a standingmane, which does in truth give it somewhat the appearance of theEuropean goat. Another point of resemblance lies in the fact, that the"prong-horns" emit the same disagreeable odour, which is a well-knowncharacteristic of the goat species. This proceeds from two smallglandular openings that lie at the angles of the jaws, and appear spotsof a blackish-brown colour. Both Lucien and François had shot antelopes. They had decoyed themwithin range in their former expedition on the prairies, and had seenwolves do the same. The Indians usually hunt them in this manner, byholding up some bright-coloured flag, or other curious object, whichrarely fails to bring them within shot; but Norman informed his cousinsthat the Indians of the Hudson's Bay Company care little about theantelope, and rarely think it worth hunting. Its skin is of little valueto them, and they consider its flesh but indifferent eating. But thechief reason why they take so little notice of it is, because it isfound in the same range, with the buffalo, the moose, and the elk; and, as all these animals are more valuable to the Indian hunter, he allowsthe antelope to go unmolested, unless when he is hard pressed withhunger, and none of the others are to be had. While skinning the antelope for breakfast, Norman amused his companionsby relating how he had killed it. He said he had got near enough toshoot it by practising a "dodge. " After travelling through the woods forsome half-mile or so, he had come out into a country of "openings, " andsaw that there was a large prairie beyond. He saw that the woodsextended no farther than about a mile from the banks of the river, andthat the whole country beyond was without timber, except in scatteredclumps. This is, in fact, true of the Red River country, particularlyof its western part, from which the great prairies stretch westward evento the "foot-hills" of the Rocky Mountains. Well, then, after arriving at the openings, Norman espied a small herdof antelopes, about ten or a dozen in all. He would rather they had beensomething else, as elk or deer; for, like the Indians, he did not muchrelish the "goat's" meat. He was too hungry, however, to be nice, and sohe set about trying to get within shot of the herd. There was no cover, and he knew he could not approach near enough without using somestratagem. He therefore laid himself flat upon his back, and raised hisheels as high as he could into the air. These he kicked about in such amanner as soon to attract the attention of the antelopes, that, curiousto make out what it was, commenced running round and round in circles, of which Norman himself was the centre. The circles gradually became smaller and smaller, until the hunter sawthat his game was within range; when slyly rolling himself round on oneshoulder, he took aim at a buck, and fired. The buck fell, and the restof the herd bounded off like the wind. Norman feeling hungry himself, and knowing that his companions were suffering from the same cause, lostno time in looking for other game, but shouldering the "goat, " carriedit into camp. By this time Lucien and François had a fire kindled--a roaring fire of"pine-knots"--and both were standing by it, smoking all over in theirwet leggings. They had got nearly dry when Norman returned, and theyproceeded to assist in butchering the antelope. The skin was whipped offin a trice; and the venison, cut into steaks and ribs, was soon spittedand sputtering cheerily in the blaze of the pine-knots. Everythinglooked pleasant and promising, and it only wanted the presence of Basilto make them all feel quite happy again. Basil, however, did not makehis appearance; and as they were all as hungry as wolves, they could notwait for him, but set upon the antelope-venison, and made each of them ahearty meal from it. As yet they had no apprehensions about Basil. They supposed he had notmet with any game, and was still travelling about in search of it. Should he succeed in killing any, he would bring it in; and should henot, he would return in proper time without it. It was still early inthe day. But several hours passed over and he did not come. It was an unusuallength of time for him to be absent, especially in strange woods ofwhich he knew nothing; moreover, he was in his shirt sleeves, and therest of his clothing had been dripping wet when he set out. Under thesecircumstances would he remain so long, unless something unpleasant hadhappened to him? This question the three began to ask one another. They began to growuneasy about their absent companion; and as the hours passed on withouthis appearing, their uneasiness increased to serious alarm. They atlength resolved to go in search of him. They took different directions, so that there would be a better chance of finding him. Norman struck outinto the woods, while Lucien and François, followed by the dog Marengo, kept down the bank--thinking that if Basil had got lost, he would makefor the river to guide him, as night approached. All were to return tothe camp at nightfall whether successful or not. After several hours spent in traversing the woods and openings, Normancame back. He had been unable to find any traces of their missingcompanion. The others had got back before him. They heard his story withsorrowing hearts, for neither had they fallen in with the track ofliving creature. Basil was lost, beyond a doubt. He would never havestayed so long, had not some accident happened to him. Perhaps he wasdead--killed by some wild animal--a panther or a bear. Perhaps he hadmet with Indians, who had carried him off, or put him to death on thespot. Such were the painful conjectures of his companions. It was now night. All three sat mournfully over the fire, their looksand gestures betokening the deep dejection they felt. Although in needof repose, none of them attempted to go to sleep. At intervals theydiscussed the probability of his return, and then they would remainsilent. Nothing could be done that night. They could only await themorning light, when they would renew their search, and scour the countryin every direction. It was near midnight, and they were sitting silently around the fire, when Marengo started to his feet, and uttered three or four loud barks. The echoes of these had hardly died among the trees when a shrillwhistle was heard at some distance off in the woods. "Hurrah!" shouted François, leaping to his feet at the instant; "that'sBasil's whistle, I'll be bound. I'd know it a mile off. Hurrah!" François' "hurrah!" rang through the woods, and the next moment cameback a loud "Hilloa!" which all recognised as the voice of Basil. "Hilloa!" shouted the three by the fire. "Hilloa, my boys! all right!" replied the voice; and a few secondsafter, the tall upright form of Basil himself was seen advancing, underthe glare of the pine-knots. A shout of congratulation was again raised;and all the party, preceded by Marengo, rushed out to meet thenew-comer. They soon returned, bringing Basil up to the fire, when itwas seen that he had not returned empty-handed. In one hand he carried abag of grouse, or "prairie hens, " while from the muzzle of hisshouldered rifle there hung something that was at once recognised as abrace of buffalo tongues. "_Voilà_!" cried Basil, flinging down the bag, "how are you off forsupper? And here, " continued he, pointing to the tongues, "here's a pairof tit-bits that'll make you lick your lips. Come! let us lose no timein the cooking, for I'm hungry enough to eat either of them raw. " Basil's request was instantly complied with. The fire was raked up, spits were speedily procured, a tongue and one of the grouse wereroasted; and although Lucien, François, and Norman, had already suppedon the "goat's meat, " they set to upon the new viands with freshappetites. Basil was hungrier than any, for he had been all the whilefasting. It was not because he was without meat, but because he knewthat his comrades would be uneasy about him, and he would not stop tocook it. Of meat he had enough, since he had slain the two buffaloes towhich the tongues had belonged; and these same buffaloes, he nowinformed them, had been the cause of his long absence. Of course, all were eager to know how the buffaloes could have delayedhim; and therefore, while they were discussing their savoury supper, Basil narrated the details of his day's adventure. CHAPTER VIII. A "PARTRIDGE DANCE. " "After leaving here, " said Basil, "I struck off through the woods in aline that led from the river, in a diagonal direction. I hadn't walkedmore than three hundred yards, when I heard a drumming sound, which I atfirst took to be thunder; but, after listening a while, I knew it wasnot that, but the drumming of the ruffed grouse. As soon as I couldascertain the direction of the sound, I hurried on in that way; but fora long time I appeared to get no nearer it, so greatly does this sounddeceive one. I should think I walked a full mile before I arrived at theplace where the birds were, for there were many of them. I then had afull view of them, as they went through their singular performances. "There were, in all, about a score. They had selected a piece of openand level ground, and over this they were running in a circle, abouttwenty feet in diameter. They did not all run in the same direction, butmet and crossed each other, although they never deviated much from thecircumference of the circle, around which the grass was worn quite bare, and a ring upon the turf looked baked and black. When I first got near, they heard my foot among the leaves, and I saw that one and all of themstopped running, and squatted close down. "I halted, and hid myself behind a tree. After remaining quiet a minuteor so, the birds began to stretch up their necks, and then all rosetogether to their feet, and commenced running round the ring as before. I knew they were performing what is called the 'Partridge Dance;' and asI had never witnessed it I held back awhile, and looked on. Even hungryas I was, and as I knew all of you to be, so odd were the movements ofthese creatures, that I could not resist watching them a while, before Isent my unwelcome messenger into their 'ball-room. ' "Now and then an old cock would separate from the pack, and running outto some distance, would leap upon a rock that was there; then, afterdropping his wings, flirting with his spread tail, erecting the ruffupon his neck, and throwing back his head, he would swell and strut uponthe rock, exhibiting himself like a diminutive turkey-cock. Aftermanoeuvring in this way for a few moments, he would commence flapping hiswings in short quick strokes, which grew more rapid as he proceeded, until a 'booming' sound was produced, more like the rumble of distantthunder than anything I can think of. "This appeared to be a challenge to the others; and then a second wouldcome out, and, after replying to it by putting himself through a similarseries of attitudes, the two would attack each other, and fight with allthe fury of a pair of game-cocks. " "I could have watched their manoeuvres much longer, " continued Basil, "but hunger got the better of me, and I made ready to fire. Those thatwere 'dancing' moved so quickly round the ring that I could not sightone of them. If I had had a shot gun, I might have covered several, butwith the rifle I could not hope for more than a single bird; so, wantingto make sure of that, I waited until an old cock mounted the rock, andgot to 'drumming. ' Then I sighted him, and sent my bullet through hiscrop. I heard the loud whirr of the pack as they rose up from the ring;and, marking them, I saw that they all alighted only a couple of hundredyards off, upon a large spruce-tree. "Hoping they would sit there until I could get another shot, I loaded, as quickly as possible, and stepped forward. The course I took broughtme past the one I had killed, which I picked up, and thrust hastily intomy bag. Beyond this I had to pass over some logs that lay along theground, with level spaces between them. What was my surprise in gettingamong these, to see two of the cocks down upon the grass, and fightingso desperately that they took no notice of my approach! At first I threwup my rifle, intending to fire, but seeing that the birds were within afew feet of me, I thought they might let me lay hold of them, whichthey, in fact, did; for the next moment I had 'grabbed' both of them, and cooled their bellicose spirits by wringing their heads off. "I now proceeded to the pack, that still kept the tree. When nearenough, I sheltered myself behind another tree; and taking aim at one, Ibrought him tumbling to the ground. The others sat still. Of course, Ishot the one upon the lowest branch: I knew that, so long as I did this, the others would sit until I might get the whole of them; but that if Ishot one of the upper ones, its fluttering down through the brancheswould alarm the rest, and cause them to fly off. I loaded and fired, andloaded and fired, until half-a-dozen of the birds lay around the root ofthe tree. "I believe I could have killed the whole pack, but it just then occurredto me that I was wasting our precious ammunition, and that, consideringthe value of powder and shot to us just now, the birds were hardly wortha load a-piece; so I left off cracking at them. As I stepped forward togather what I had killed, the rest whirred away into the woods. "On reaching the tree where they had perched, I was very much surprisedto find a raw-hide rope neatly coiled up, and hanging from one of thelower branches. I knew that somebody must have placed it there, and Ilooked round to see what "sign" there was besides. My eye fell upon thecinders of an old fire near the foot of the tree; and I could tell thatsome Indians had made their camp by it. It must have been a good whileago, as the ashes were beaten into the ground by the rain, and, moreover, some young plants were springing up through them. I concluded, therefore, that whoever had camped there had hung the rope upon thetree, and on leaving the place had forgotten it. "I took the rope down to examine it: it was no other than a lasso, fullfifty feet long, with an iron ring neatly whipped into the loop-end;and, on trying it with a pull, I saw it was in the best condition. Ofcourse, I was not likely to leave such a prize behind me. I had grown, as you may all conceive, to have a very great regard for a rope, considering that one had just saved all our lives; so I resolved onbringing the lasso with me. In order to carry it the more conveniently, I coiled it, and then hung the coil across my shoulders like a belt. Inext packed my game into the bag, which they filled chock up to themouth, and was turning to come back to camp, when my eye fell upon anobject that caused me suddenly to change my intention. "I was near the edge of the woods, and through the trunks I could see alarge open space beyond, where there were no trees, or only one here andthere. In the middle of this opening there was a cloud of dust, and inthe thick of it I could see two great dark animals in motion. They wererunning about, and now and then coming together with a sudden rush; andevery time they did so, I could hear a loud thump, like the stroke of asledge-hammer. The sun was shining upon the yellow dust-cloud, and theanimals appeared from this circumstance to be of immense size--muchlarger than they really were. Had I not known what kind of creatureswere before me, I should have believed that the mammoths were still inexistence. But I knew well what they were: I had seen many before, carrying on just such a game. I knew they were buffalo bulls, engaged inone of their terrible battles. "Here Basil's narrative was interrupted by a singular incident. Indeed, it had been interrupted more than once by strange noises that were heardat some distance off in the woods. These noises were not all alike: atone time they resembled the barking of a cur dog; at another, they mighthave been mistaken for the gurglings of a person who was being hanged;and then would follow a shriek so dreadful that for some time the woodswould echo with its dismal sound! After the shriek a laugh would beheard, but a miserable "haw-haw-haw!" unlike the laugh of a sane person. "All these strange voices were calculated to inspire terror, and so havethey many a time, with travellers not accustomed to the solitary woodsof America. But our young voyageurs were not at all alarmed by them. They knew from what sort of a creature they proceeded; they knew theywere the varying notes of the great horned-owl; and as they had seen andheard many a one before, they paid no heed to this individual. "While Basil was going on with his relation, the bird had been severaltimes seen to glide past, and circle around upon his noiseless pinions. So easy was his flight, that the slightest inclining of his spread tail, or the bending of his broad wing, seemed sufficient to turn and carryhim in any direction. Nothing could be more graceful than his flight, which was not unlike that of the eagle, while he was but little inferiorin size to one of these noble birds. "What interrupted Basil was, that the owl had alighted upon a branch nottwenty feet from where they were all sitting round the fire, by theblaze of which they now had a full view of this singular creature. Themoment it alighted, it commenced uttering its hideous and unmusicalcries, at the same time going through such a variety of contortions, both with its head and body, as to cause the whole party a fit oflaughter. It was, in fact, an odd and interesting sight to witness itsgrotesque movements, as it turned first its body, and then its headaround, without moving the shoulders, while its great honey-colouredeyes glared in the light of the fire. At the end of every attitude andutterance, it would snap its bill with such violence, that the crackingof the mandibles upon each other might have been heard to the distanceof several hundred yards. "This was too much for François' patience to bear, and he immediatelycrept to his gun. He had got hold of the piece, and cocked it; but, justas he was about to take aim, the owl dropped silently down from thebranch, and, gliding gently forward, thrust out its feathered leg, andlifted one of the grouse in its talons. The latter had been lying uponthe top of a fallen tree not six feet from the fire! The owl, afterclutching it, rose into the air; and the next moment would have beenlost in darkness, but the crack of François' rifle put a sudden stop toits flight, and with the grouse still clinging to its claws it fellfluttering to the earth. Marengo jumped forward to seize it; but Marengolittle knew the sort of creature he had to deal with. " It happened to be only "winged, " and as soon as the dog came near, itthrew itself upon its back, and struck at him with its talons sowickedly, that he was fain to approach it with more caution. It costMarengo a considerable fight before he succeeded in getting his jawsover it. During the contest it continually snapped its bill, while itsgreat goggle eyes kept alternately and quickly opening and closing, andthe feathers being erected all over its body, gave it the appearance ofbeing twice its real size. Marengo at length succeeded in "crunching"it--although not until he was well scratched about the snout--and itsuseless carcass having been thrown upon the ground, the dog continued toworry and chew at it, while Basil went on with his narration. CHAPTER IX. BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. "As soon as I saw the buffaloes, " continued Basil, "my first thought wasto get near, and have a shot at them. _They_ were worth a charge ofpowder and lead, and I reflected that if I could kill but one of them, it would ensure us against hunger for a couple of weeks to come. So Ihung my game-bag to the branch of a tree, and set about approachingthem. I saw that the wind was in my favour, and there was no danger oftheir scenting me. But there was no cover near them--the ground was aslevel as a table, and there was not a score of trees upon as many acres. It was no use crawling up, and I did not attempt it, but walked straightforward, treading lightly as I went. In five minutes, I found myselfwithin good shooting range. Neither of the bulls had noticed me. Theywere too busy with one another, and in all my life I never saw twocreatures fighting in such earnest. They were foaming at the mouth, andthe steam poured out of their nostrils incessantly. " At times, they would back from each other like a pair of rams, and thenrush together head-foremost, until their skulls cracked with theterrible collision. One would have fancied that they would break them atevery fresh encounter, but I knew the thickness of a buffalo's skullbefore that time. I remember having fired a musket at one that stoodfronting me not more than six feet distant, when, to my surprise, thebullet flattened and fell to the ground before the nose of the buffalo!The creature was not less astonished than myself, as up to that time ithad not seen me. "Well, " continued Basil after a pause, "I did not stop long to watch thebattle of the bison-bulls. I was not curious about that. I had seensuch many a time. I was thinking about the meat; and I paused just longenough to select the one that appeared to have the most fat upon hisflanks, when I drew up my rifle and fired. I aimed for the heart, and myaim was a true one, for the animal came to its knees along with thecrack. Just at that moment the other was charging upon it, and, to mysurprise, it continued to run on, until striking the wounded one fullbutt upon the forehead, it knocked the latter right over upon its side;where, after giving half-a-dozen kicks, it lay quite dead. "The remaining bull had dashed some paces beyond the spot, and nowturned round again to renew his attack. On seeing his antagoniststretched out and motionless, he seemed to be as much astonished as Iwas. At first, no doubt, he fancied himself the author of a grand_coup_, for it was plain that up to this time he had neither noticed mypresence, nor the report of the rifle. The bellowing noise that bothwere making had drowned the latter; and the dust, together with the longshaggy tufts that hung over his eyes, had prevented him from seeinganything more than his rival, with whom he was engaged. "Now that the other was no longer able to stand before him, and thinkingit was himself that had done the deed, he tossed up his head and snortedin triumph. At this moment, the matted hair was thrown back from hiseyes, and the dust having somewhat settled away, he sighted me, where Istood reloading my gun. I fancied he would take off before I couldfinish, and I made all the haste in my power--so much so that I droppedthe box of caps at my feet. I had taken one out, however, and hurriedlyadjusted it, thinking to myself, as I did so, that the box might liewhere it was until I had finished the job. "I brought the piece to my shoulder, when, to my surprise, the bull, instead of running away, as I had expected, set his head, and utteringone of his terrible bellows, came rushing towards me. I fired, but theshot was a random one, and though it hit him in the snout, it did not inthe least disable him. Instead of keeping him off, it only seemed toirritate him the more, and his fury was now at its height. "I had no time to load again. He was within a few feet of me when Ifired, and it was with difficulty that, by leaping to one side, Iavoided his horns; but I did so, and he passed me with such violencethat I felt the ground shake under his heavy tread. "He wheeled immediately, and made at me a second time. I knew that if heonce touched me I was gone. His horns were set, and his eyes glared witha terrible earnestness. I rushed towards the body of the buffalo thatlay near, hoping that this might assist me in avoiding the onset. It didso, for, as he dashed forward over it, he became entangled among thelimbs, and again charged without striking me. He turned, however, asquick as thought, and again rushed bellowing upon me. There was a treenear at hand. I had noticed it before, but I could not tell whether Ishould have time to reach it. I was now somewhat nearer it, and, fearingthat I might not be able to dodge the furious brute any longer upon theground, I struck out for the tree. "You may be sure I did my best at running. I heard the bull comingafter, but before he could overtake me, I had got to the root of thetree. It was my intention, at first, only to take shelter behind thetrunk; but when I had got there, I noticed that there were some lowbranches, and catching one of these I swung myself up among them. [Illustration: BASIL AND THE BISON-BULL. ] "The bull passed under me with a rush--almost touching my feet as I hungby the branch--but I was soon safely lodged in a fork, and out of hisreach. "My next thought was to load my gun, and fire at him from my perch, and, with this intention, I commenced loading. I had no fear but that hewould give me an opportunity, for he kept round the tree, and at timesattacked the trunk, butting and goring it with his horns, and all thewhile bellowing furiously. The tree was a small one, and it shook so, that I began to fear it might break down. I therefore made all the hasteI could to get in the load, expecting soon to put an end to his attacks. "I succeeded at length in ramming down the bullet, and was just turningthe gun to put on a cap, when I recollected that the cap-box was stilllying on the ground where it had fallen! The sudden attack of the animalhad prevented me from taking it up. My caps were all within that box, and my gun, loaded though it was, was as useless in my hands as a bar ofiron. To get at the caps would be quite impossible. I dared not descendfrom the tree. The infuriated bull still kept pacing under it, now goinground and round, and occasionally stopping for a moment and lookingangrily up. "My situation was anything but a pleasant one. I began to fear that Imight not be permitted to escape at all. The bull seemed to be mostpertinacious in vengeance. I could have shot him in the back, or theneck, or where I liked, if I had only one cap. He was within three feetof the muzzle of my rifle; but what of that when I could not get the gunto go off? After a while I thought of making some tinder paper, and thentrying to 'touch off' the piece with it, but a far better plan at thatmoment came into my head. While I was fumbling about my bullet-pouch toget at my flint and steel, of course my fingers came into contact withthe lasso, which was still hanging around my shoulders. It was this thatsuggested my plan, which was no other than to _lasso the bull, and tiehim to the tree_! "I lost no time in carrying it into execution. I uncoiled the rope, andfirst made one end fast to the trunk. The other was the loop-end, andreeving it through the ring, I held it in my right hand while I leanedover and watched my opportunity. It was not long before a good oneoffered. The bull still continued his angry demonstrations below, andpassed round and round. It was no new thing for me to fling a lasso, andat the first pitch I had the satisfaction of seeing the noose pass overthe bison's head, and settle in a proper position behind his horns. Ithen gave it a twitch, so as to tighten it, and after that I ran therope over a branch, and thus getting 'a purchase' upon it, I pulled itwith all my might. "As soon as the bull felt the strange cravat around his neck, he beganto plunge and 'rout' with violence, and at length ran furiously out fromthe tree. But he soon came to the end of his tether; and the quick jerk, which caused the tree itself to crack, brought him to his haunches, while the noose tightening on his throat was fast strangling him. Butfor the thick matted hair it would have done so, but this saved him, andhe continued to sprawl and struggle at the end of the rope. The treekept on cracking, and as I began to fear that it might give way andprecipitate me to the ground, I thought it better to slip down. I randirect to where I had dropped the caps; and, having got hold of the box, I soon had one upon my gun. I then stole cautiously back, and while thebison was hanging himself as fast as he could, I brought his strugglesto a period by sending a bullet through his ribs. "As it was quite night when I had finished the business, of course Icould not stay to butcher the bulls. I knew that you would be wonderingwhat kept me, so I cut out the tongues, and coming by the place where Ihad left the grouse, brought them along. I left a 'scare-wolf' over boththe bulls, however, and I guess we'll find them all right in themorning. " Basil having finished the narration of his day's adventures, fresh fuelwas heaped on the embers, and a huge fire was built--one that would lastuntil morning. This was necessary, as none of them had now eitherblankets or bedding. Basil himself and Norman were even in theirshirt-sleeves, and of course their only chance for keeping warmth intheir bodies would be to keep up a roaring fire all the night. This theydid, and all four laying themselves close together, slept soundlyenough. CHAPTER X. THREE CURIOUS TREES. Next morning they were awake at an early hour. There was still enough ofthe tongues and grouse left, along with some ribs of the antelope, tobreakfast the party; and then all four set out to bring the flesh ofBasil's buffaloes into camp. This they accomplished, after makingseveral journeys. It was their intention to dry the meat over the fire, so that it might keep for future use. For this purpose the flesh wasremoved from the bones, and after being cut into thin slices and strips, was hung up on poles at some distance from the blaze. Nothing more couldbe done, but wait until it became sufficiently parched by the heat. While this process was going on our voyageurs collected around the fire, and entered into a consultation about what was best to be done. At firstthey thought of going back to the Red River settlement, and obtaininganother canoe, as well as a fresh stock of provisions and implements. But they all believed that getting back would be a toilsome anddifficult matter. There was a large lake and several extensive marsheson the route, and these would have to be got round, making the journey avery long one indeed. It would take them days to perform it on foot, andnothing is more discouraging on a journey than to be forced by someaccident to what is called "taking the back-track. " All of them acknowledged this, but what else could they do? It is truethere was a post of the Hudson's Bay Company at the northern end of LakeWinnipeg. This post was called Norway House. How were they to reach thatafoot? To walk around the borders of the lake would be a distance ofmore than four hundred miles. There would be numerous rivers to cross, as well as swamps and pathless forests to be threaded. Such a journeywould occupy a month or more, and at Norway House they would still be asit were only at the beginning of the great journey on which they had setout. Moreover, Norway House lay entirely out of their way. CumberlandHouse--another trading-post upon the River Saskatchewan--was the nextpoint where they had intended to rest themselves, after leaving the RedRiver settlements. To reach Cumberland House _afoot_ would be equallydifficult, as it, too, lay at the distance of hundreds of miles, withlakes, and rivers, and marshes, intervening. What, then, could they do? "Let us _not_ go back, " cried François, ever ready with a bold advice:"let us make a boat, and keep on, say I. " "Ha! François, " rejoined Basil, "it's easy to say 'make a boat;' how isthat to be done, I pray?" "Why, what's to hinder us to hew a log, and make a dug-out? We havestill got the axe, and two hatchets left. " Norman asked what François meant by a dug-out. The phrase was new tohim. "A canoe, " replied François, "hollowed out of a tree. They are sometimescalled 'dug-outs' on the Mississippi, especially when they are roughlymade. One of them, I think, would carry all four of us well enough. Don't you think so, Luce?" "Why, yes, " answered the student; "a large one might: but I fear thereare no trees about here of sufficient size. We are not among the greattimber of the Mississippi bottom, you must remember. " "How large a tree would it require?" asked Norman, who knew but littleof this kind of craft. "Three feet in diameter, at least, " replied Lucien; "and it should be ofthat thickness for a length of nearly twenty feet. A less one would notcarry four of us. " "Then I am sure enough, " responded Norman, "that we won't find suchtimber here. I have seen no tree of that size either yesterday, or whilewe were out this morning. " "Nor I, " added Basil. "I don't believe there's one, " said Lucien. "If we were in Louisiana, " rejoined François, "I could find fiftycanoe-trees by walking as many yards. Why I never saw such insignificanttimber as this here. " "You'll see smaller timber than this Cousin Frank, before we reach theend of our voyage. " This remark was made by Norman, who knew that, as they proceedednorthward, the trees would be found decreasing in size until they wouldappear like garden shrubbery. "But come, " continued he, "if we can't build a craft to carry us from_one_ tree, perhaps we can do it out of _three_. " "With three!" echoed François. "I should like to see a canoe made fromthree trees! Is it a raft you mean, Cousin Norman?" "No, " responded the other; "a canoe, and one that will serve us for therest of our voyage. " All three--Basil, Lucien, and François--looked to their cousin for anexplanation. "You would rather not go back up the river?" he inquired, glancing fromone to the other. "We wish to go on--all of us, " answered Basil, speaking for his brothersas well. "Very well, " assented the young fur-trader; "I think it is better as youwish it. Out of these trees I can build a boat that will carry us. Itwill take us some days to do it, and some time to find the timber, but Iam tolerably certain it is to be found in these woods. To do the jobproperly I want three kinds; two of them I can see from where I sit; thethird I expect will be got in the hills we saw this morning. " As Norman spoke he pointed to two trees that grew among many others notfar from the spot. These trees were of very different kinds, as waseasily told by their leaves and bark. The nearer and more conspicuous ofthem at once excited the curiosity of the three Southerners. Lucienrecognised it from its botanical description. Even Basil and François, though they had never seen it, as it is not to be found in the hot climeof Louisiana, knew it from the accounts given of it by travellers. Thetree was the celebrated "canoe-birch, " or as Lucien named it, "paper-birch, " celebrated as the tree out of whose bark those beautifulcanoes are made that carry thousands of Indians over the interior lakesand rivers of North America; out of whose bark whole tribes of thesepeople fashion their bowls, their pails, and their baskets; with whichthey cover their tents, and from which they even make their soup-kettlesand boiling-pots! This, then, was the canoe birch-tree, so much talkedof, and so valuable to the poor Indians who inhabit the cold regionswhere it grows. Our young Southerners contemplated the tree with feelings of interestand curiosity. They saw that it was about sixty feet high, and somewhatmore than a foot in diameter. Its leaves were nearly cordate, orheart-shaped, and of a very dark-green colour; but that which renderedit most conspicuous among the other trees of the forest was the shiningwhite or silver-coloured bark that covered its trunk, and its numerousslender branches. This bark is only white externally. When you have cutthrough the epidermis you find it of a reddish tinge, very thick, andcapable of being divided into several layers. The wood of the tree makesexcellent fuel, and is also often used for articles of furniture. It hasa close, shining grain, and is strong enough for ordinary implements;but if exposed to the weather will decay rapidly. The "canoe-birch" is not the only species of these trees found in NorthAmerica. The genus _Betula_ (so called from the Celtic word _batu_, which means birch) has at least half-a-dozen other known representativesin these parts. There is the "white birch, " a worthless tree of sometwenty feet in height, and less than six inches diameter. The bark ofthis species is useless, and its wood, which is soft and white, is unfiteven for fuel. It grows, however, in the poorest soil. Next there is aspecies called the "cherry-birch, " so named from the resemblance of itsbark to the common cherry-tree. It is also called "sweet birch, " becauseits young twigs, when crushed, give out a pleasant aromatic odour. Sometimes the name of "black birch, " is given to this species. It is atree of fifty or sixty feet in height, and its wood is much used incabinet-work, as it is close-grained, of a beautiful reddish colour, andsusceptible of a high polish. The information regarding the birches of America was given by Lucien tohis brothers, not at that time, but shortly afterward, when the threewere engaged in felling one of these trees. Just then other mattersoccupied them, and they had only glanced, first at the canoe-birch andthen at the other tree which Norman had pointed out. The latter was of adifferent genus. It belonged to the order _Coniferĉ_, or cone-bearingtrees, as was evident from the cone-shaped fruits that hung upon itsbranches, as well as from its needle-like evergreen leaves. The cone-bearing trees of America are divided by botanists into threegreat sub-orders--the _Pines_, the _Cypresses_ and the _Yews_. Each ofthese includes several genera. By the "pine tribe" is meant all thosetrees known commonly by the names pine, spruce, fir, and larch: whilethe _Cupressinĉ_, or cypress tribe, are the cypress proper, the cedars, the arbor-vitĉ, and the junipers. The yew tribe has fewer genera orspecies; but the trees in America known as yews and hemlocks--of whichthere are several varieties--belong to it. The pines cannot be termed trees of the tropics, yet do they grow insouthern and warm countries. In the Carolinas, tar and turpentine, products of the pine, are two staple articles of exportation; and evenunder the equator itself, the high mountains are covered withpine-forests. But the pine is more especially the tree of a northern_sylva_. As you approach the Arctic circle, it becomes thecharacteristic tree. Then it appears in extensive forests, lending theirpicturesque shelter to the snowy desolation of the earth. One species ofpine is the very last tree that disappears as the traveller, inapproaching the pole, takes his leave of the limits of vegetation. Thisspecies is the "white spruce" the very one which, along with thebirch-tree, had been pointed out by Norman to his companions. It was a tree not over thirty or forty feet high, with a trunk of lessthan a foot in thickness, and of a brownish colour. Its leaves or"needles" were about an inch in length, very slender and acute, and of abluish green tint. The cones upon it, which at that season were youngwere of a pale green. When ripe, however, they become rusty-brown, andare nearly two inches in length. What use Norman would make of this tree in building his canoe, neitherBasil nor François knew. Lucien only guessed at it. François asked thequestion, by saying that he supposed the "timbers" were to come out ofit. "No, " said Norman, "for that I want still another sort. If I can't findthat sort, however, I can manage to do without it, but not so well. " "What other sort?" demanded François. "I want some cedar-wood, " replied the other. "Ah! that's for the timbers, " said François; "I am sure of it. Thecedar-wood is lighter than any other, and, I dare say, would answeradmirably for ribs and other timbers. " "You are right this time, Frank--it is considered the best for thatpurpose. " "You think there are cedar-trees on the hills we saw this morning?" saidFrançois, addressing his Canadian cousin. "I think so. I noticed something like them. " "And I, too, observed a dark foliage, " said Lucien, "which looked likethe cedar. If anywhere in this neighbourhood, we shall find them there. They usually grow upon rocky, sterile hills, such as those appear tobe--that is their proper situation. " "The question, " remarked Basil, "ought to be settled at once. We havemade up our mind to the building of a canoe, and I think we should loseno time in getting ready the materials. Suppose we all set out for thehills. " "Agreed--agreed!" shouted the others with one voice; and thenshouldering their guns, and taking the axe along, all four set out forthe hills. On reaching these, the object of their search was at oncediscovered. The tops of all the hills--dry, barren ridges theywere--were covered with a thick grove of the red cedar. The trees wereeasily distinguished by the numerous branches spreading horizontally, and thickly covered with short dark green needles, giving them thatsombre, shady appearance, that makes them the favourite haunt of manyspecies of owls. Their beautiful reddish wood was well known to all theparty, as it is to almost every one in the civilized world. Everybodywho has seen or used a black-lead pencil must know what the wood of thered cedar is like--for it is in this the black-lead is usually incased. In all parts of America, where this tree grows in plenty, it is employedfor posts and fence-rails, as it is one of the most durable woods inexistence. It is a great favourite also for kindling fires, as itcatches quickly, and blazes up in a few seconds, so as to ignite theheavier logs of other timbers, such as the oak and the pine. "Now, " said Norman, after examining a few of the cedar-trees, "we havehere all that's wanted to make our canoe. We need lose no more time, butgo to work at once. " "Very well, " replied the three brothers, "we are ready to assistyou, --tell us what to do. " "In the first place, " said the other, "I think we had better change ourcamp to this spot, as I see all the different kinds of trees here, andmuch better ones than those near the river. There, " continued he, pointing to a piece of moist ground in the valley, --"there are somesplendid birches, and there beside them is plenty of the _épinette_" (sothe voyageurs term the white spruce). "It will save us many journeys ifwe go back and bring our meat to this place at once. " To this they all of course agreed, and started back to their first camp. They soon returned with the meat and other things, and having chosen aclean spot under a large-spreading cedar-tree, they kindled a new fireand made their camp by it--that is, they strung up the provisions, hungtheir horns and pouches upon the branches around, and rested their gunsagainst the trees. They had no tent to pitch, but that is not necessaryto constitute a camp. In the phraseology of the American hunter, wherever you kindle your fire or spend the night is a "camp. " CHAPTER XI. HOW TO BUILD A BARK CANOE. Norman expected that they would be able to finish the canoe in about aweek. Of course, the sooner the better, and no time was lost in settingabout it. The ribs or "timbers" were the first thing to be fashioned, and a number of straight branches of cedar were cut, out of which theywere to be made. These branches were cleared of twigs, and rendered ofan equal thickness at both ends. They were then flattened with theknife; and, by means of a little sweating in the ashes, were bent so asto bear some resemblance in shape to the wooden ox-yokes commonly usedin America, or indeed to the letter U. The ribs when thus bent were not all of the same width. On the contrary, those which were intended to be placed near the middle or gangway of thevessel, were about two feet across from side to side, while the spacebetween the sides of the others was gradually less in each fresh pair, according as their position was to be near to the stem and stern. Whenthe whole of them had been forced into the proper shape, they wereplaced, one inside the other after the manner of dishes, and then allwere firmly lashed together, and left to dry. When the lashing should beremoved, they would hold to the form thus given them, and would be readyfor fastening to the kelson. While Norman was occupied with the timbers the others were not idle. Basil had cut down several of the largest and straightest birches, andLucien employed himself in carefully removing the bark and cleansing itof nodules and other inequalities. The broad sheets were suspended by asmoke fire, so as completely to dry up the sap, and render it tough andelastic. François had his part to play, and that was to collect theresinous gum which was distilled in plenty from the trunks of theépinette or spruce-trees. This gum is a species of pitch, and is one of the most necessarymaterials in the making of a bark canoe. It is used for "paying" theseams, as well as any cracks that may show themselves in the barkitself; and without it, or some similar substance, it would be difficultto make one of these little vessels water-tight. But that is not theonly thing for which the épinette is valued in canoe-building; far fromit. This tree produces another indispensable material; its long fibrousroots when split, form the twine-like threads by which the pieces ofbark are sewed to each other and fastened to the timbers. These threadsare as strong as the best cords of hemp, and are known among the Indiansby the name of "watap. " In a country, therefore, where hemp and flax cannot be readily procured, the "watap" is of great value. You may say that deer are plenty, andthat thongs of buckskin would serve the same purpose. This, however, isnot the case. The buckskin would never do for such a use. The moment itbecomes wet it is liable to stretch, so that the seams would open andthe canoe get filled with water. The watap, wet or dry, does not yield, and has therefore been found to be the best thing of all others for thispurpose. The only parts now wanted were the gunwale and the bottom. The formerwas easily obtained. Two long poles, each twenty feet in length, werebent somewhat like a pair of bows, and then placed with their convexsides towards each other, and firmly lashed together at the ends. Thiswas the gunwale. The bottom was the most difficult part of all. For thata solid plank was required, and they had no saw. The axe and thehatchet, however, were called into requisition, and a log was soon hewnand thinned down to the proper dimensions. It was sharpened off at theends, so as to run to a very acute angle, both at the stem and stern. When the bottom was considered sufficiently polished, and modelled tothe right shape, the most difficult part of the undertaking was supposedto be accomplished. A few long poles were cut and trimmed flat. Thesewere to be laid longitudinally between the ribs and the bark, somewhatafter the fashion of laths in the roofing of a house. Their use was toprevent the bark from splitting. The materials were now all obtainedcomplete, and, with a few days' smoking and drying, would be ready forputting together. While waiting for the timbers to dry, paddles were made, and Norman, with the help of the others, prepared what he jokingly called his"dock, " and also his "ship-yard. " This was neither more nor less than along mound of earth--not unlike a new-made grave, only three times thelength of one, or even longer. It was flat upon the top, and gradedwith earth so as to be quite level and free from inequalities. At length all the materials were considered quite ready for use, andNorman went to work to put them together. His first operation was to untie the bundle of timbers, and separatethem. They were found to have taken the exact form into which they hadbeen bent, and the thongs being no longer necessary to keep them inplace, were removed. The timbers themselves were next placed upon thebottom or kelson, those with the widest bottoms being nearer to"midships, " while those with the narrower bend were set towards thenarrower ends of the plank. Thus placed, they were all firmly lashedwith strong cords of watap, by means of holes pierced in the bottomplank. Fortunately Lucien happened to have a pocket-knife, in which there was agood awl or piercer, that enabled them to make these holes--else thematter would have been a much more difficult one, as an awl is one ofthe most essential tools in the construction of a bark canoe. Of courseit took Norman a considerable time to set all the ribs in their properplaces, and fasten them securely; but he was ably assisted by François, who waited upon him with much diligence, handing him now the awl, andthen the watap, whenever he required them. Norman's next operation was the laying of his kelson "in dock. " Thetimbers being attached to it, it was lifted up on the earthen mound, where it reached quite from end to end. Half-a-dozen large heavy stoneswere then placed upon it, so that, pressed down by these upon the evensurface of the mould, it was rendered quite firm; and, moreover, was ofsuch a height from the ground that the young shipwright could work uponit without too much bending and kneeling. The gunwale, already prepared, was next placed so as to touch the endsof the ribs all round, and these ends were adjusted to it with greatnicety, and firmly joined. Strong cross-pieces were fixed, which weredesigned, not only to keep the gunwale from spreading or contracting, but afterwards to serve as seats. Of course the gunwale formed the complete mouth, or upper edge of thecanoe. It was several feet longer than the bottom plank, and, when inplace, projected beyond the ribs at both ends. From each end of thebottom plank, therefore, to the corresponding end of the gunwale, astraight piece of wood was stretched, and fastened. One of these pieceswould form the stem or cutwater, while the other would become the sternof the craft. The long poles were next laid longitudinally upon the ribsoutside, and lashed in their places; and this done, the skeleton wascompleted, ready for the bark. The latter had been already cut to the proper dimensions and shape. Itconsisted of oblong pieces--each piece being a regular parallelogram, asit had been stripped from the tree. These were laid upon the ribslongitudinally, and then sewed to the edge of the bottom plank, and alsoto the gunwale. The bark itself was in such broad pieces that two ofthem were sufficient to cover half a side, so that but one seam wasrequired lengthwise, in addition to the fastenings at the top andbottom. Two lengths of the bark also reached cleverly from stem tostern, and thus required only one transverse seam on each side. Therewas an advantage in this arrangement, for where the birch-bark can onlybe obtained in small flakes, a great number of seams is a necessaryconsequence, and then it is extremely difficult to keep the canoe fromleaking. Thanks to the fine birch-trees, that grew in abundance around, our boat-builders had procured the very best bark. The canoe was now completed all but the "paying, " and that would nottake long to do. The gum of the épinette had to be boiled, and mixedwith a little grease, so as to form a species of wax. For this the fatalready obtained from the buffaloes was the very thing; and a small tincup which Basil had saved from the wreck (it had been strung to hisbullet-pouch), enabled them to melt the gum, and apply it hot. In lessthan an hour the thing was done. Every crack and awl-hole was payed, andthe canoe was pronounced "water-tight, " and, as François added, with alaugh, "seaworthy. " A small pond was near, at the bottom of the hill: François espied it. "Come, boys, " cried he, "a launch! a launch!" This was agreed to by all. The great stones were taken out. Basil andNorman, going one to the stem the other to the stern, lifted the canoefrom the "dock, " and, raising it upon their shoulders, carried it downto the pond. The next moment it was pushed into the water, where itfloated like a cork. A loud cheer was given, in which even Marengojoined; and a salute was then fired--a full broadside--from the fourguns. François, to complete the thing, seized one of the paddles, andleaping into the canoe, shot the little craft out upon the bosom of thepond, cheering all the while like one frantic. After amusing himself for some minutes, he paddled back to the shore, when they all looked eagerly into the canoe, and perceived to theirgratification that not as much as a drop of water had leaked during the"trip. " Thanks and congratulations now greeted Norman from every side;and, taking their vessel from the water, the young voyageurs returned totheir camp, to regale themselves with a grand dinner, which Lucien hadcooked for the occasion. CHAPTER XII THE CHAIN OF LAKES Our young voyageurs now prepared to resume their journey. While Normanwas engaged in building his canoe, with his assistant, François, theothers had not been idle. Basil was, of course, the hunter of the party;and, in addition to the small game, such as hares, geese, and grouse, hehad killed three caribou, of the large variety known as "woodlandcaribou. " These are a species of the reindeer of which I have more tosay hereafter. Lucien had attended to the drying of their flesh; andthere was enough of it still left, as our voyageurs believed, to supplytheir wants until they should reach Cumberland House, where they would, of course, procure a fresh stock of provisions. The skins of the caribouhad also been scraped and dressed by Lucien--who understood the processwell--and these, with the skin of the antelope, were sufficient to makea pair of hunting-shirts for Basil and Norman, who, it will beremembered, had lost theirs by cutting them up. Next morning the canoe was launched upon the river--below therapids--and the dried meat, with their other matters, snugly stowed inthe stern. Then the young voyageurs got in, and, seating themselves intheir places, seized hold of the paddles. The next moment the canoe shotout into the stream; and a triumphant cheer from the crew announced thatthey had recommenced their journey. They found to their delight that thelittle vessel behaved admirably--shooting through the water like anarrow, and leaking not water enough, as François expressed it, "to drowna mosquito. " They had all taken their seats in the order which had been agreed uponfor the day. Norman was "bowsman, " and, of course, sat in the bow. This, among the regular Canadian voyageurs, is esteemed the post of honour, and the bowsman is usually styled "Captain" by the rest of the crew. Itis also the post that requires the greatest amount of skill on the partof its occupant, particularly where there are rapids or shoals to beavoided. The post of "steersman" is also one of honour and importance;and both steersman and bowsman receive higher wages than the othervoyageurs who pass under the name of "middlemen. " The steersman sits inthe stern, and that place was now occupied by Lucien, who had provedhimself an excellent steersman. Basil and François were, of course, the"middlemen, " and plied the paddles. This was the arrangement made for the day; but although on other daysthe programme was to be changed, so as to relieve Basil and François, onall occasions when there were rapids or other difficulties to beencountered they were to return to this order. Norman, of course, understood canoe navigation better than his Southern cousins; andtherefore, by universal assent, he was acknowledged "the Captain, " andFrançois always addressed him as such. Lucien's claim to the post ofsecond honour was admitted to be just, as he had proved himself capableof filling it to the satisfaction of all. Marengo had no post, but layquietly upon the buffalo skin between Lucien's legs, and listened to theconversation without joining in it, or in any way interfering in theworking of the vessel. In a few hours our voyageurs had passed through the low marshy countrythat lies around the mouth of the Red River, and the white expanse ofthe great Lake Winnipeg opened before them, stretching northward farbeyond the range of their vision. Norman knew the lake, having crossedit before, but its aspect somewhat disappointed the Southern travellers. Instead of a vast dark lake which they had expected to see, they lookedupon a whitish muddy sheet, that presented but few attractive points tothe eye, either in the hue of its water or the scenery of its shores. These, so far as they could see them, were low, and apparently marshy;and this is, in fact, the character of the southern shores of Winnipeg. On its east and north, however, the country is of a different character. There the geological formation is what is termed _primitive_. The rocksconsist of granite, sienite, gneiss, &c. ; and, as is always the casewhere such rocks are found, the country is hilly and rugged. On thewestern shores a _secondary_ formation exists. This is _stratifiedlimestone_--the same as that which forms the bed of many of the greatprairies of America; and, indeed, the Lake Winnipeg lies between thissecondary formation and the primitive, which bounds it on the east. Along its western shores extends the flat limestone country, partlywooded and partly prairie land, running from that point for hundreds ofmiles up to the very foot of the Rocky Mountains, where the primitiverocks again make their appearance in the rugged peaks of that stupendouschain. Lake Winnipeg is nearly three hundred miles in length, but it is verynarrow--being in its widest reach not over fifty miles, and in manyplaces only fifteen miles from shore to shore. It trends nearly duenorth and south, leaning a little north-west and south-east, andreceives many large rivers, as the Red, the Saskatchewan, and theWinnipeg. The waters of these are again carried out of it by otherrivers that run from the lake, and empty into the Hudson's Bay. There isa belief among the hunters and voyageurs that this lake has its tideslike the ocean. Such, however, is not the case. There is at times a riseand overflow of its waters, but it is not periodical, and is supposed tobe occasioned by strong winds forcing the waters towards a particularshore. Lake Winnipeg is remarkable, as being in the very centre of the NorthAmerican continent, and may be called the centre of the _canoenavigation_. From this point it is possible to travel _by water_ toHudson's Bay on the north-east, to the Atlantic Ocean on the east, tothe Gulf of Mexico on the south, to the Pacific on the west, and to thePolar Sea on the north and north-west. Considering that some of thesedistances are upwards of three thousand miles, it will be perceived thatLake Winnipeg holds a singular position upon the continent. All theroutes mentioned can be made without any great "portage, " and even achoice of route is often to be had upon those different lines ofcommunication. These were points of information communicated by Norman as the canoe waspaddled along the shore; for Norman, although troubling himself butlittle about the causes of things, possessed a good practical knowledgeof things as they actually were. He was tolerably well acquainted withthe routes, their portages, and distances. Some of them he had travelledover in company with his father, and of others he had heard the accountsgiven by the voyageurs, traders, and trappers. Norman knew that LakeWinnipeg was muddy--he did not care to inquire the cause. He knew thatthere was a hilly country on its eastern and a low level land on itswestern shores, but it never occurred to him to speculate on thisgeological difference. It was the naturalist, Lucien, who threw out some hints on this part ofthe subject, and further added his opinion, that the lake came to bethere in consequence of the wearing away of the rocks at the junction ofthe stratified with the primitive formation, thus creating an excavationin the surface, which in time became filled with water and formed thelake. This cause he also assigned for the existence of a remarkable"chain of lakes" that extends almost from the Arctic Sea to thefrontiers of Canada. The most noted of these are Martin, Great Slave, Athabasca, Wollaston, Deer, Lake Winnipeg and the Lake of the Woods. Lucien further informed his companions, that where primitive rocks formthe surface of a country, that surface will be found to exhibit greatdiversity of aspect. There will be numerous lakes and swamps, ruggedsteep hills with deep valleys between, short streams with many falls andrapids. These are the characteristics of a primitive surface. On theother hand, where secondary rocks prevail the surface is usually aseries of plains, often high, dry, and treeless, as is the case upon thegreat American prairies. Upon such topics did Lucien instruct his companions, as they paddledtheir canoe around the edge of the lake. They had turned the head oftheir little vessel westward--as it was their design to keep along thewestern border of the lake until they should reach the mouth of theSaskatchewan. They kept at a short distance from the shore, usuallysteering from point to point, and in this way making their route asdirect as possible. It would have been still more direct had they struckout into the open lake, and kept up its middle; but this would have beena dangerous course to pursue. There are often high winds upon Lake Winnipeg, that spring up suddenly;and at such times the waves, if not mountains high, at least arrive atthe height of houses. Among such billows the little craft would havebeen in danger of being swamped, and our voyageurs of going to thebottom. They, therefore, wisely resolved not to risk such an accident, but to "hug the shore, " though it made their voyage longer. Each nightthey would land at some convenient place, kindle their fire, cook theirsupper, and dry their canoe for the next day's journey. According to this arrangement, a little before sunset of the first daythey came to land and made their camp. The canoe was unloaded, carefullylifted out of the water, and then set bottom upward to drip and dry. Afire was kindled, some of the dry meat cooked, and all four sat down andbegan to eat, as only hungry travellers can. CHAPTER XIII WAPITI, WOLVES, AND WOLVERENE The spot where our voyageurs had landed was at the bottom of a smallbay. The country back from the lake was level and clear of timber. Hereand there, nearer the shore, however, its surface was prettilyinterspersed with small clumps of willows, that formed little copse-likethickets of deep green. Beside one of these thickets, within a hundredyards of the beach, the fire had been kindled, on a spot of ground thatcommanded a view of the plain for miles back. "Look yonder!" cried François, who had finished eating, and risen to hisfeet. "What are these, captain?" François pointed to some objects thatappeared at a great distance off upon the plain. The "captain" rose up, placed his hand so as to shade his eyes from thesun, and, after looking for a second or two in the direction indicated, replied to the other's question by simply saying-- "Wapiti. " "I'm no wiser than before I asked the question, " said François. "Pray, enlighten me as to what a wapiti may be!" "Why, red deer; or elk, if you like. " "Oh! elk--now I understand you. I thought they were elk, but they're sofar off I wasn't sure. " Lucien at this moment rose up, and looking through a small telescope, which he carried, confirmed the statement of the "captain, " andpronounced it to be a herd of elk. "Come, Luce, " demanded François, "tell us what you know of the elk. Itwill pass the time. Norman says it's no use going after them out therein the open ground, as they'd shy off before one could get within shot. You see there is not a bush within half-a-mile of them. " "If we wait, " interrupted Norman, "I should not wonder but we may havethem among the bushes before long. They appear to be grazing this way. Iwarrant you, they'll come to the lake to drink before nightfall. " "Very well then: the philosopher can tell us all about them beforethat. " Lucien, thus appealed to, began:-- "There are few animals that have so many names as this. It is called indifferent districts, or by different authors, _elk_, _round-horned elk_, _American elk_, _stag_, _red deer_, _grey moose_, _le biche_, _wapiti_and _wewaskish_. "You may ask, Why so many names? I shall tell you. It is called 'elk'because it was supposed by the early colonists to be the same as the elkof Europe. Its name of 'grey moose' is a hunter appellation, todistinguish it from the real moose, which the same hunters know as the'black moose. ' 'Round-horned elk' is also a hunter name. 'Wewaskish, ' or'waskesse, ' is an Indian name for the animal. 'Stag' comes from theEuropean deer so called, because this species somewhat resembles thestag; and 'red deer' is a name used by the Hudson Bay traders. 'Lebiche' is another synonyme of French authors. "Of all these names I think that of 'wapiti, ' which our cousin hasgiven, the best. The names of 'elk, ' 'stag, ' and 'red deer, ' lead toconfusion, as there are other species to which they properly belong, allof which are entirely different from the wapiti. I believe that thislast name is now used by the best-informed naturalists. "In my opinion, " continued Lucien, "the wapiti is the noblest of all thedeer kind. It possesses the fine form of the European stag, while it isnearly a third larger and stronger. It has all the grace of limb andmotion that belongs to the common deer, while its towering horns give ita most majestic and imposing appearance. Its colour during the summer isof a reddish brown, hence the name red deer; but, indeed, the reddishtint upon the wapiti is deeper and richer than that of its Europeancousin. "The wapiti, like other deer, brings forth its fawns in the spring. Theyare usually a male and female, for two is the number it produces. Themales only have horns; and they must be several years old before theantlers become full and branching. They fall every year, but not untilFebruary or March, and then the new ones grow out in a month or sixweeks. During the summer the horns remain soft and tender to the touch. They are covered at this time with a soft membrane, that looks likegreyish velvet, and they are then said to be 'in the velvet. ' There arenerves and blood-vessels running through this membrane, and a blow uponthe horns at this season gives great pain to the animal. When the autumnarrives the velvet peels off, and they become as hard as bone. "They would need to be, for this is the 'rutting' season, and the bucksfight furious battles with each other, clashing their horns together, asif they would break them to pieces. Very often a pair of bucks, whilethus contending, 'lock' their antlers, and being unable to draw themapart, remain head to head, until both die with hunger, or fall a preyto the prowling wolves. This is true not only of the elk, but also ofthe reindeer, the moose, and many other species of deer. Hundreds ofpairs of horns have been found thus 'locked, ' and the solitary hunterhas often surprised the deer in this unpleasant predicament. "The wapiti utters a whistling sound, that can be heard far off, andoften guides the hunter to the right spot. In the rutting season thebucks make other noises, which somewhat resemble the braying of an ass, and are equally disagreeable to listen to. "The wapiti travel about in small herds, rarely exceeding fifty, butoften of only six or seven. Where they are not much hunted they areeasily approached, but otherwise they are shy enough. The bucks, whenwounded and brought to bay, become dangerous assailants; much more sothan those of the common deer. Hunters have sometimes escaped withdifficulty from their horns and hoofs, with the latter of which they caninflict very severe blows. They are hunted in the same way as otherdeer; but the Indians capture many of them in the water, when theydiscover them crossing lakes or rivers. They are excellent swimmers, andcan make their way over the arm of a lake or across the widest river. "They feed upon grass, and sometimes on the young shoots of willows andpoplar trees. They are especially fond of a species of wild rose whichgrows in the countries they frequent. "The wapiti at one time ranged over a large part of the continent ofNorth America. Its range is now restricted by the spread of thesettlements. It is still found in most of the Northern parts of theUnited States, but only in remote mountainous districts and even thereit is a rare animal. In Canada it is more common; and it roams acrossthe continent to the shores of the Pacific. It it not an animal of thetropical countries, as it is not found in Mexico proper. On the otherhand, wapiti do not go farther north than about the fifty-seventhparallel of latitude, and then they are not in their favourite habitat, which is properly the temperate zone. " Lucien was interrupted by an exclamation from Basil, who stood uplooking out upon the prairie. They all saw that he had been observingthe wapiti. "What is it?" cried they. "Look yonder!" replied Basil, pointing in the direction of the herd. "Something disturbs them. Give me your glass, Luce. " Lucien handed the telescope to his brother, who, drawing it to theproper focus, pointed it towards the deer. The rest watched them, withthe naked eye. They could see that there was some trouble among theanimals. There were only six in the herd, and even at the distance ourvoyageurs could tell that they were all bucks, for it was the seasonwhen the does secrete themselves in the woods and thickets to bringforth their young. They were running to and fro upon the prairie, anddoubling about as if playing, or rather as if some creature was chasingthem. With the naked eye, however, nothing could be seen upon the groundbut the bucks themselves, and all the others looked to Basil, who heldthe glass, for an explanation of their odd manoeuvres. "There are wolves at them, " said Basil, after regarding them for asecond or two. "That's odd, " rejoined Norman. "Wolves don't often attack full-grownwapiti, except when wounded or crippled somehow. They must be precioushungry. What sort of wolves are they?" To you, boy reader, this question may seem strange. You, perhaps, thinkthat a wolf is a wolf, and there is but one kind. Such, however, is notthe exact truth. In America there are two distinct species or wolves, and of these two species there are many varieties, which differ so muchin colour and other respects, that some authors have classed them as somany distinct species instead of considering them mere varieties. Whether they may be species or not is still a question amongnaturalists; but certain it is that _two_ well-defined species do exist, which differ in size, form, colour, and habits. These are the _large_ or _common wolf_, and the barking or prairie wolf. The first species is the American representative of the common wolf ofEurope; and although an animal of similar nature and habits, it differsvery much from the latter in form and appearance. It is, therefore, notthe _same_, as hitherto supposed. This American wolf is found in greateror less numbers throughout the whole continent; but in the Northernregions it is very common, and is seen in at least five differentvarieties, known by the characteristic names of _black_, _pied_, _white_, _dusky_, and _grey_ wolves. Of these the grey is the mostnumerous kind; but as I shall have occasion to speak of the large wolveshearafter, I shall say no more of them at present, but direct yourattention to the second and very different species, the _prairiewolves_. These are a full third smaller than the common kind. They are swifter, and go in larger packs. They bring forth their young in burrows on theopen plain, and not among the woods, like the other species. They arethe most cunning of American animals, not excepting their kindred thefoxes. They cannot be trapped by any contrivance, but by singularmanoeuvres often themselves decoy the over-curious antelope to approachtoo near them. When a gun is fired upon the prairies they may be seenstarting up on all sides, and running for the spot in hopes of coming infor a share of the game. Should an animal--deer, antelope, orbuffalo--be wounded, and escape the hunter, it is not likely to escapethem also. They will set after it, and run it down if _the wound hasbeen a mortal one_. On the other hand, if the wound has been only slight, and is not likelyin the end to cripple the animal, the wolves will not stir from--thespot. This extraordinary sagacity often tells the hunter whether it isworth his while to follow the game he has shot at; but in any case he islikely to arrive late, if the wolves set out before him, as a dozen ofthem will devour the largest deer in a few minutes' time. The prairiewolves as well as the others follow the herds of buffaloes, and attackthe gravid cows and calves when separated from the rest. Frequently theysustain a contest with the bulls, when the latter are old or wounded, but on such occasions many of them get killed before the old bullbecomes their prey. They resemble the common grey wolf in colour, but there are varieties inthis respect, though not so great as among the larger species. Theirvoice is entirely different, and consists of three distinct barks, ending in a prolonged howl. Hence the specific and usual name "barkingwolf. " They are found only in the Western or prairie half of thecontinent, and thence west to the Pacific. Their Northern range islimited to the fifty-fifth parallel of latitude--but they are met withsouthward throughout Mexico, where they are common enough, and known bythe name of "coyoté. " Their skins are an article of trade with the Hudson's Bay Company. Thefur is of about the same quality with that of other wolves, and consistsof long hairs, with a thick wool at the base. In commerce they aretermed "cased wolves, " because their skins, on being removed, are notsplit open as with the large wolf-skins, but are stript off after themanner of rabbits, and then turned inside out, or "cased, " as it istermed. "Prairie wolves!" said Basil, in answer to the question put by hiscousin. "There must be something the matter with one of the bucks, then, "remarked Norman, "or else there's a good big pack of the wolves, andthey expect to tire one down. I believe they sometimes do try it thatway. " "There appears to be a large pack, " answered Basil, still lookingthrough the glass; "fifty at least--See! they have separated one of thebucks from the herd--it's running this way!" Basil's companions had noticed this as soon as himself, and all four nowleaped to their guns. The wapiti was plainly coming towards them, andthey could now distinguish the wolves following upon his heels, strungout over the prairie like a pack of hounds. When first started, the buckwas a full half-mile distant, but in less than a minute's time he camebreasting forward until the boys could see his sparkling eyes and theplay of his proud flanks. He was a noble animal to look at. His hornswere full grown, but still "in the velvet, " and as he ran with his snoutthrown forward, his antlers lay along both sides of his neck until theirtips touched his shoulders. He continued on in a direct line until he was within less than anhundred paces of the camp; but, perceiving the smoke of the fire, andthe figures crouching around it, he swerved suddenly from his course, and darted into the thicket of willows, where he was for the momenthidden from view. The wolves--fifty of them at least--had followed himup to this point; and as he entered the thicket several had been closeupon his heels. The boys expected to see the wolves rush in afterhim--as there appeared to be no impediment to their doing so--but, tothe astonishment of all, the latter came to a sudden halt, and then wentsneaking back--some of them even running off as if terrified! At first the hunters attributed this strange conduct to their ownpresence, and the smoke of the camp; but a moment's reflection convincedthem that this could not be the reason of it, as they were all wellacquainted with the nature of the prairie wolf, and had never witnesseda similar exhibition before. They had no time to think of the wolves just then. The buck was the mainattraction, and, calling to each other to surround the thicket, all fourstarted in different directions. In a couple of minutes they had placedthemselves at nearly equal distances around the copse, and stoodwatching eagerly for the reappearance of the wapiti. The willows covered about an acre of ground, but they were tolerablythink and full-leaved, and the buck could not be seen from any side. Wherever he was, he was evidently at a stand-still, for not a rustlecould be heard among the leaves, nor were any of the tall stalks seen tomove. Marengo was now sent in. This would soon start him, and all four stoodwith guns cocked and ready. But before the dog had made three lengths ofhimself into the thicket, a loud snort was heard, followed by astruggle and the stamping of hoofs, and the next moment the wapiti camecrashing through the bushes. A shot was fired--it was the crack ofLucien's small rifle--but it had missed, for the buck was seen passingonward and outward. All ran round to the side he had taken, and had afull view of the animal as he bounded off. Instead of running free asbefore, he now leaped heavily forward, and what was their astonishmenton seeing that he _carried another animal upon his back_! [Illustration: THE WAPITI AND THE WOLVERENE. ] The hunters could hardly believe their eyes, but there it was, sureenough, a brown shaggy mass, lying flat along the shoulders of thewapiti, and clutching it with large spreading claws. François cried out, "A panther!" and Basil at first believed it to be a bear, but it washardly large enough for that. Norman, however, who had lived more inthose parts where the animal is found, knew it at once to be the dreaded"wolverene. " Its head could not be seen, as that was hid behind theshoulder of the wapiti, whose throat it was engaged in tearing. But itsshort legs and broad paws, its bushy tail and long shaggy hair, togetherwith its round-arching back and dark-brown colour, were all familiarmarks to the young fur-trader; and he at once pronounced it a"wolverene. " When first seen, both it and the wapiti were beyond the reach of theirrifles; and the hunters, surprised by such an unexpected apparition, hadsuddenly halted. François and Basil were about to renew the pursuit, butwere prevented by Norman, who counselled them to remain where they were. "They won't go far, " said he; "let us watch them a bit. See! the bucktakes the water!" The wapiti, on leaving the willows, had run straight out in the firstdirection that offered, which happened to be in a line parallel with theedge of the lake. His eye, however, soon caught sight of the water, and, doubling suddenly round, he made directly towards it, evidently with theintention of plunging in. He had hopes, no doubt, that by this means hemight rid himself of the terrible creature that was clinging to hisshoulders, and tearing his throat to pieces. A few bounds brought him to the shore. There was no beach at the spot. The bank--a limestone bluff--rose steeply from the water's edge to aheight of eight feet, and the lake under it was several fathoms indepth. The buck did not hesitate, but sprang outward and downwards. Aheavy plash followed, and for some seconds both wapiti and wolverenewere lost under the water. They rose to the surface, just as the boysreached the bank, but they came up _separately_. The dip had proved acooler to the fierce wolverene; and while the wapiti was seen to strikeboldly out into the lake and swim off, the latter--evidently out of hiselement--kept plunging about clumsily, and struggling to get back to theshore. Their position upon the cliff above gave the hunters an excellentopportunity with their rifles, and both Basil and Norman sent theirbullets into the wolverene's back. François also emptied hisdouble-barrelled gun at the same object, and the shaggy brute sank deadto the bottom of the lake. Strange to say, not one of the party hadthought of firing at the buck. This persecution by so many enemies hadwon for him their sympathy, and they would now have suffered him to gofree, but the prospect of fresh venison for supper overcame theircommiseration, and the moment the wolverene was despatched all set aboutsecuring the deer. Their guns were reloaded, and, scattering along the shore, they preparedto await his return. But the buck, seeing there was nothing but death inhis rear, swam on, keeping almost in a direct line out into the lake. Itwas evident to all that he could not swim across the lake, as itsfarther shore was not even visible. He must either return to where theywere, or drown; and knowing this to be his only alternative, they stoodstill and watched his motions. When he had got about half-a-mile fromthe shore, to the surprise of all, he was seen to rise higher and higherabove the surface, and then all at once stop, with half of his bodyclear out of the water! He had come upon a shoal, and, knowing theadvantage of it, seemed determined to remain there. Basil and Norman ran to the canoe, and in a few minutes the little craftwas launched, and shooting through the water. The buck now saw that itwas likely to be all up with him, and, instead of attempting to swimfarther, he faced round, and set his antlers forward in a threateningattitude. But his pursuers did not give him the chance to make a rush. When within fifty yards or so, Norman, who used the paddles, stopped andsteadied the canoe, and the next moment the crack of Basil's rifleechoed over the lake, and the wapiti fell upon the water, where, afterstruggling a moment, he lay dead. The canoe was paddled up, and his antlers being made fast to the stern, he was towed back to the shore, and carried into camp. What nowsurprised our voyageurs was, their finding that the wapiti had beenwounded before encountering either the wolves, wolverene, or themselves. An arrow-head, with a short piece of the shaft, was sticking in one ofhis thighs. The Indians, then, had been after him, and very lately too, as the wound showed. It was not a mortal wound, had the arrow-head beenremoved; but of course, as it was, it would have proved his death in thelong run. This explained why the wolves had assailed an animal, thatotherwise, from his great size and strength, would have defied them. The wolverene, moreover, rarely attacks game so large as the wapiti; butthe latter had, no doubt, chanced upon the lair of his fierce enemy, whocould not resist such a tempting opportunity of getting a meal. Thewolves had seen the wolverene as they approached the thicket, and thataccounted for their strange behaviour in the pursuit. These creaturesare as great cowards as they are tyrants, and their dread of a wolvereneis equal to that with which they themselves often inspire the woundeddeer. CHAPTER XIV. A PAIR OF DEEP DIVERS. THE wapiti was carefully skinned, and the skin spread out to dry. Sincetheir mishap our voyageurs had been very short of clothing. The threeskins of the woodland caribou had made only a pair of jackets, insteadof full hunting-shirts, and even these were pinched fits. For beds andbed-clothes they had nothing but the hides of buffaloes, and these, although good as far as they went, were only enough for two. Lucien, themost delicate of the party, appropriated one, as the others insistedupon his so doing. François had the other. As for Basil and Norman, they were forced each night to lie upon thenaked earth, and but for the large fires which they kept blazing all thenight, they would have suffered severely from cold. Indeed, they didsuffer quite enough; for some of the nights were so cold, that it wasimpossible to sleep by the largest fire without one-half of their bodiesfeeling chilled. The usual practice with travellers in the West is tolie with their feet to the fire, while the head is at the greatestdistance from it. This is considered the best mode, for so long as thefeet are warm, the rest of the body will not suffer badly; but, on thecontrary, if the feet are allowed to get cold, no matter what state theother parts be in, it is impossible to sleep with comfort. Of course our young voyageurs followed the well-known practice of thecountry, and lay with their feet to the fire in such a manner that, whenall were placed, their bodies formed four radii of a circle, of whichthe fire was the centre. Marengo usually lay beside Basil, whom helooked upon as his proper master. Notwithstanding a bed of grass and leaves which they each night spreadfor themselves, they were sadly in want of blankets, and therefore theskin of the wapiti, which was a very fine one, would be a welcomeaddition to their stock of bedding. They resolved, therefore, to remainone day where they had killed it, so that the skin might be dried andreceive a partial dressing. Moreover, they intended to "jerk" some ofthe meat--although elk-venison is not considered very palatable whereother meat can be had. It is without juice, and resembles dryshort-grained beef more than venison. For this reason it is looked uponby both Indians and white hunters as inferior to buffalo, moose, caribou, or even the common deer. One peculiarity of the flesh of thisanimal is, that the fat becomes hard the moment it is taken off thefire. It freezes upon the lips like suet, and clings around the teeth ofa person eating it, which is not the case with that of other species ofdeer. The skin of the wapiti, however, is held in high esteem among theIndians. It is thinner than that of the moose, but makes a much betterarticle of leather. When dressed in the Indian fashion--that is to say, soaked in a lather composed of the brains and fat of the animal itself, and then washed, dried, scraped, and smoked--it becomes as soft andpliable as a kid-glove, and will wash and dry without stiffening likechamois leather. That is a great advantage which it has, in the eyes ofthe Indians, over the skins of other species of deer, as the moose andcaribou--for the leather made from these, after a wetting, becomes harshand rigid and requires a great deal of rubbing to render it soft again. Lucien knew how to dress the elk-hide, and could make leather out of itas well as any Indian squaw in the country. But travelling as they were, there was not a good opportunity for that; so they were content to giveit such a dressing as the circumstances might allow. It was spread outon a frame of willow-poles, and set up in front of the fire, to bescraped at intervals and cleared of the fatty matter, as well as thenumerous parasites that at this season adhere to the skins of thewapiti. While Lucien was framing the skin, Basil and Norman occupied themselvesin cutting the choice pieces of the meat into thin slices and hangingthem up before the fire. This job being finished, all sat down to watchLucien currying his hide. "Ho, boys!" cried François, starting up as if something had occurred tohim; "what about the wolverene? It's a splendid skin--why not get ittoo?" "True enough, " replied Norman, "we had forgotten that. But the beast'sgone to the bottom--how can we get at him?" "Why, fish him up, to be sure, " said François. "Let's splice one ofthese willow-poles to my ram rod, and I'll screw it into him, and drawhim to the surface in a jiffy. Come!" "We must get the canoe round, then, " said Norman. "The bank's too steepfor us to reach him without it. " "Of course, " assented François, at the same time going towards thewillows; "get you the canoe into the water, while I cut the sapling. " "Stay!" cried Basil, "I'll show you a shorter method. Marengo!" As Basil said this, he rose to his feet, and walked down to the bluffwhere they had shot the wolverene. All of them followed him as well asMarengo, who bounded triumphantly from side to side, knowing he waswanted for some important enterprise. "Do you expect the dog to fetch him out?" inquired Norman. "No, " replied Basil; "only to help. " "How?" "Wait a moment--you shall see. " Basil flung down his 'coon-skin cap, and stripped off his cariboujacket, then his striped cotton shirt, then his under-shirt of fawnskin, and, lastly, his trousers, leggings, and mocassins. He was now asnaked as Adam. "I'll show you, cousin, " said he, addressing himself to Norman, "how wetake the water down there on the Mississippi. " So saying, he stepped forward to the edge of the bluff; and havingcarefully noted the spot where the wolverene had gone down, turned tothe dog, and simply said, -- "Ho! Marengo! _Chez moi_!" The dog answered with a whimper, and a look of intelligence which showedthat he understood his master's wish. Basil again pointed to the lake, raised his arms over his head, placinghis palms close together, launched himself out into the air, and shotdown head-foremost into the water. Marengo, uttering a loud bay, sprang after so quickly that the plungeswere almost simultaneous, and both master and dog were for some timehidden from view. The latter rose first, but it was a long time beforeBasil came to the surface--so long that Norman and the others werebeginning to feel uneasy, and to regard the water with some anxiety. Atlength, however, a spot was seen to bubble, several yards from where hehad gone down, and the black head of Basil appeared above the surface. It was seen that he held something in his teeth, and was pushing a heavybody before him, which they saw was the wolverene. Marengo, who swam near, now seized hold of the object, and pulled itaway from his master, who, calling to the dog to follow, struck outtowards a point where the bank was low and shelving. In a few minutesBasil reached a landing-place, and shortly after Marengo arrived towingthe wolverene, which was speedily pulled out upon the bank, and carried, or rather dragged, by Norman and François to the camp. Lucien broughtBasil's clothes, and all four once more assembled around the blazingfire. There is not a more hideous-looking animal in America than thewolverene. His thick body and short stout legs, his shaggy coat andbushy tail, but, above all, his long curving claws and dog-like jaws, gave him a formidable appearance. His gait is low and skulking, and hislook bold and vicious. He walks somewhat like a bear, and his tracksare often mistaken for those of that animal. Indians and hunters, however, know the difference well. His hind feet are plantigrade, thatis, they rest upon the ground from heel to toe; and his back curves likethe segment of a circle. He is fierce and extremely voracious--quite asmuch so as the "glutton, " of which he is the American representative. No animal is more destructive to the small game, and he will also attackand devour the larger kinds when he can get hold of them; but as he issomewhat slow, he can only seize most of them by stratagem. It is acommon belief that he lies in wait upon trees and rocks to seize thedeer passing beneath. It has been also asserted that he places moss, such as these animals feed upon under his perch, in order to entice themwithin reach; and it has been still further asserted, that the arcticfoxes assist him in his plans, by hunting the deer towards the spotwhere he lies in wait, thus acting as his jackals. These assertions have been made more particularly about his Europeancousin, the "glutton, " about whom other stories are told equallystrange--one of them, that he eats until scarce able to walk, and thendraws his body through a narrow space between two trees, in order torelieve himself and get ready for a fresh meal. Buffon and others havegiven credence to these tales upon the authority of one "Olaus Magnus, "whose name, from the circumstance, might be translated "great fibber. "There is no doubt, however, that the glutton is one of the mostsagacious of animals, and so, too, is the wolverene. The latter givesproof of this by many of his habits; one in particular fully illustrateshis cunning. It is this. The marten trappers of the Hudson Bay territory set their traps in thesnow, often extending over a line of fifty miles. These traps areconstructed out of pieces of wood found near the spot, and are baitedwith the heads of partridges, or pieces of venison, of which the martenis very fond. As soon as the marten seizes the bait, a trigger istouched, and a heavy piece of wood falling upon the animal, crushes orholds it fast. Now the wolverene _enters the trap from behind_, tearsthe back out of it before touching the bait, and thus avoids the fallinglog! Moreover, he will follow the tracks of the trapper from one toanother, until he has destroyed the whole line. Should a marten happen to have been before him, and got caught in thetrap, he rarely ever eats it, as he is not fond of its flesh. But he isnot satisfied to leave it as he finds it. He usually digs it from underthe log, tears it to pieces, and then buries it under the snow. Thefoxes, who are well aware of this habit, and who themselves greedily eatthe marten, are frequently seen following him upon such excursions. Theyare not strong enough to take the log from off the trapped animal, butfrom their keen scent can soon find it where the other has buried it inthe snow. In this way, instead of their being providers for thewolverene, the reverse is the true story. Notwithstanding, the wolverenewill eat _them_ too, whenever he can get his claws upon them; but asthey are much swifter than he, this seldom happens. The foxes, however, are themselves taken in traps, or more commonly shotby guns set for the purpose, with the bait attached by a string to thetrigger. Often the wolverene, finding the foxes dead or wounded, makes ameal of them before the hunter comes along to examine his traps andguns. The wolverene kills many of the foxes while young, and sometimeson finding their burrow, widens it with his strong claws, and eats thewhole family in their nests. Even young wolves sometimes become hisprey. He lives, in fact, on very bad terms with both foxes and wolves, and often robs the latter of a fat deer which they may have just killed, and are preparing to dine upon. The beaver, however, is his favouritefood, and but that these creatures can escape him by taking to thewater--in which element he is not at all at home--he would soonexterminate their whole race. His great strength and acute scent enablehim to overcome almost every wild creature of the forest or prairie. Heis even said to be a full match for either the panther or the blackbear. The wolverene lives in clefts of rock, or in hollow trees, where suchare to be found; but he is equally an inhabitant of the forest and theprairie. He is found in fertile districts, as well as in the most remotedeserts. His range is extensive, but he is properly a denizen of thecold and snowy regions. In the southern parts of the United States he isno longer known, though it is certain that he once lived there whenthose countries were inhabited by the beaver. North of latitude 40° heranges perhaps to the pole itself, as traces of him have been found asfar as man has yet penetrated. He is a solitary creature, and, like most predatory animals, a nocturnalprowler. The female brings forth two, sometimes three and four, at abirth. The cubs are of a cream colour, and only when full grown acquirethat dark brown hue, which in the extreme of winter often passes intoblack. The fur is not unlike that of the bear but is shorter-haired, andof less value than a bear-skin. Notwithstanding, it is an article oftrade with the Hudson's Bay Company, who procure many thousands of theskins annually. The Canadian voyageurs call the wolverene "carcajou;" while among theOrkney and Scotch servants of the Hudson's Bay Company he is oftenerknown as the "quickhatch. " It is supposed that both, these names arecorruptions of the Cree word _okee-coo-haw-gew_ (the name of thewolverene among the Indians of that tribe). Many words from the samelanguage have been adopted by both voyageurs and traders. Those points in the natural history of the wolverene, that might becalled _scientific_, were imparted by Lucien, while Norman furnished theinformation about its habits. Norman knew the animal as one of the mostcommon in the "trade"; and in addition to what we have recorded, alsorelated many adventures and stories current among the voyageurs, inwhich this creature figures in quite as fanciful a manner as he does inthe works either of Olaus Magnus, or Count de Buffon. CHAPTER XV. A GRAND SUNDAY DINNER. After remaining a day at their first camp on the lake, our voyageurscontinued their journey. Their course lay a little to the west of north, as the edge of the lake trended in that direction. Their usual plan, asalready stated, was to keep out in the lake far enough to shun thenumerous indentations of the shore, yet not so far as to endanger theirlittle craft when the wind was high. At night they always landed, either upon some point or on an island. Sometimes the wind blew "deadahead, " and then their day's journey would be only a few miles. When thewind was favourable they made good progress, using the skin of thewapiti for a sail. On one of these days they reckoned a distance of overforty miles from camp to camp. It was their custom always to lie by on Sunday, for our young voyageurswere Christians. They had done so on their former expedition across theSouthern prairies, and they had found the practice to their advantage ina physical as well as a moral sense. They required the rest thusobtained; besides, a general cleaning up is necessary, at least, onceevery week. Sunday was also a day of feasting with them. They had moretime to devote to culinary operations, and the _cuisine_ of that day wasalways the most varied of the week. Any extra delicacy obtained by therifle on previous days, was usually reserved for the Sunday's dinner. On the first Sunday after entering Lake Winnipeg the "camp" chanced tobe upon an island. It was a small island, of only a few acres in extent. It lay near the shore, and was well wooded over its whole surface withtrees of many different kinds. Indeed, islands in a large lake usuallyhave a great variety of trees, as the seeds of all those sorts that growaround the shores are carried thither by the waves, or in the crops ofthe numerous birds that flit over its waters. But as the island inquestion lay in a lake, whose shores exhibited such a varied geology, itwas natural the vegetation of the island itself should be varied. And, in truth, it was so. Among the low bushes and shrubs there were rose and wild raspberry;there were apple and plum trees, and whole thickets of the "Pembina. "There is, in fact, no part of the world where a greater variety of wildfruit has been found indigenous than upon the banks of the Red River ofthe North, and this variety extended to the little island where ourvoyageurs had encamped. The camp had been placed under a beautiful tree--the tacamahac, orbalsam poplar. This is one of the finest trees of America, and one ofthose that extend farthest north into the cold countries. In favourablesituations it attains a height of one hundred and fifty feet, with aproportionate thickness of trunk; but it is oftener only fifty or eightyfeet high. Its leaves are oval, and, when young, of a rich yellowishcolour, which changes to a bright green. The buds are very large, yellow, and covered with a varnish, which exhales a delightfulfragrance, and gives to the tree its specific name. It was near sunset on the afternoon of Saturday, the travellers had justfinished their repast, and were reclining around a fire of red cedar, whose delicate smoke curled up among the pale green leaves of thepoplars. The fragrant smell of the burning wood, mixed with the aromaticodour of the balsam-tree, filled the air with a sweet perfume, and, almost without knowing why, our voyageurs felt a sense of pleasurestealing over them. The woods of the little island were not withouttheir voices. The scream of the jay was heard, and his bright azure wing appeared nowand then among the foliage. The scarlet plumage of the cardinal grosbeakflashed under the beams of the setting sun; and the trumpet-note of theivory-billed woodpecker was heard near the centre of the island. Anosprey was circling in the air, with his eye bent on the water below, watching for his finny prey; and a pair of bald eagles were wingingtheir way towards the adjacent mainland. Half-a-dozen turkey vultureswere wheeling above the beach, where some object, fish or carrion, hadbeen thrown up by the waves. For some time the party remained silent, each contemplating the scenewith feelings of pleasure. François, as usual, first broke the silence. "I say, cook, what's for dinner to-morrow?" It was to Lucien this speech was addressed. He was regarded as the_maitre de cuisine_. "Roast or boiled--which would you prefer?" asked the cook, with asignificant smile. "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed François; "boiled, indeed! a pretty boil we couldhave in a tin cup, holding less than a pint. I wish we _could_ have aboiled joint and a bowl of soup. I'd give something for it. I'm precioustired of this everlasting dry roast. " "You shall have both, " rejoined Lucien, "for to-morrow's dinner. Ipromise you both the soup and the joint. " Again François laughed increduously. "Do you mean to make soup in your shoe, Luce?" "No; but I shall make it in this. " And Lucien held up a vessel somewhat like a water-pail, which the daybefore he had himself made out of birch-bark. "Well, " replied François, "I know you have got a vessel that holdswater, but cold water ain't soup; and if you can boil water in thatvessel, I'll believe you to be a conjuror. I know you can do somecurious things with your chemical mixtures; but that you can't do, I'msure. Why, man, the bottom would be burned out of your bucket before thewater got blood-warm. Soup, indeed!" "Never mind, Frank, you shall see. You're only like the rest ofmankind--incredulous about everything they can't comprehend. If you'lltake your hook and line, and catch some fish, I promise to give you adinner to-morrow, with all the regular courses--soup, fish, boiled, roast, and dessert, too! I'm satisfied I can do all that. " "_Parbleu_! brother, you should have been cook to Lucullus. Well, I'llcatch the fish for you. " So saying, François took a fish-hook and line out of his pouch, andfixing a large grasshopper upon the hook, stepped forward to the edge ofthe water, and cast it in. The float was soon seen to bob and then sink, and François jerked his hook ashore with a small and very pretty fishupon it of a silver hue, with which the lake and the waters running intoit abound. Lucien told him it was a fish of the genus _Hyodon_. He alsoadvised him to bait with a worm, and let his bait sink to the bottom, and he might catch a sturgeon, which would be a larger fish. "How do you know there are sturgeon in the lake?" inquired François. "I am pretty sure of that, " answered the naturalist; "the sturgeon isfound all round the world in the northern temperate zone--both in itsseas and fresh waters; although, when you go farther south into thewarmer climate, no sturgeons exist. I am sure there are some here, perhaps more than one species. Sink your bait for the sturgeon is atoothless fish, and feeds upon soft substances at the bottom. " François followed the advice of his brother, and in a few minutes hehad a "nibble, " and drew up and landed a very large fish, full threefeet in length. Lucien at once pronounced it a sturgeon, but of aspecies he had not before seen. It was the _Acipenser carbonarius_, acurious sort of fish found in these waters. It did not look like a fishthat would be pleasant eating; therefore François again took to bobbingfor the silver fish which, though small, he knew to be excellent whenbroiled. "Come, " said Basil, "I must furnish my quota to this famous dinner thatis to be. Let me see what there is on the island in the way of game;"and shouldering his rifle, he walked off among the trees. "And I, " said Norman, "am not going to eat the produce of other people'slabour without contributing my share. " So the young trader took up his gun and went off in a differentdirection. "Good!" exclaimed Lucien, "we are likely to have plenty of meat for thedinner. I must see about the vegetables;" and taking with him hisnew-made vessel, Lucien sauntered off along the shore of the islet. François alone remained by the camp and continued his fishing. Let usfollow the plant-hunter, and learn a lesson of practical botany. Lucien had not gone far, when he came to what appeared to be a meresedge growing in the water. The stalks or culms of this sedge were fulleight feet high, with smooth leaves, an inch broad, nearly a yard inlength, and of a light green colour. At the top of each stalk was alarge panicle of seeds, somewhat resembling a head of oats. The plantitself was the famous wild rice so much prized by the Indians as anarticle of food, and also the favourite of many wild birds especiallythe reed-bird or rice-bunting. The grain of the zizania was not yetripe, but the ears were tolerably well filled, and Lucien saw that itwould do for his purpose. He therefore waded in, and stripped off intohis vessel as much as he wanted. "I am safe for rice-soup, at all events, " soliloquised he, "but I thinkI can do still better;" and he continued on around the shore, andshortly after struck into some heavy timber that grew in a damp, richsoil. He had walked about an hundred yards farther, when he was seen tostoop and examine some object on the ground. "It ought to be found here, " he muttered to himself; "this is the verysoil for it--yes, here we have it!" The object over which he was stooping was a plant, but its leavesappeared shrivelled, or rather quite withered away. The upper part of abulbous root, however, was just visible above the surface. It was a bulbof the wild leek. The leaves, when young, are about six inches inlength, of a flat shape and often three inches broad; but, strange tosay, they shrivel or die off very early in the season--even before theplant flowers, and then it is difficult to find the bulb. Lucien, however, had sharp eyes for such things; and in a short while hehad rooted out several bulbs as large as pigeons' eggs, and depositedthem in his birchen vessel. He now turned to go back to camp, satisfiedwith what he had obtained. He had the rice to give consistency to hissoup, and the leek roots to flavour it with. That would be enough. As he was walking over a piece of boggy ground his eye was attracted toa singular plant, whose tall stem rose high above the grass. It was fulleight feet in height, and at its top there was an umbel of conspicuouswhite flowers. Its leaves were large, lobed, and toothed, and the stemitself was over an inch in diameter, with furrows runninglongitudinally. Lucien had never seen the plant before, although he hadoften heard accounts of it, and he at once recognised it from itsbotanical description. It was the celebrated "cow parsnip. " Its stem wasjointed and hollow, and Lucien had heard that the Indians called it intheir language "flute stem, " as they often used it to make their rudemusical instruments from, and also a sort of whistle or "call, " by whichthey were enabled to imitate and decoy several kinds of deer. But therewas another use to which the plant was put, of which the naturalist wasnot aware. Norman who had been wandering about, came up at this moment, and seeing Lucien standing by the plant, uttered a joyful "Hulloh!" "Well, " inquired Lucien, "what pleases you, coz?" "Why, the flute-stem, of course. You talked of making a soup. It willhelp you, I fancy. " "How?" demanded Lucien. "Why, the young stems are good eating, and the roots, if you will; butthe young shoots are better. Both Indians and voyageurs eat them insoup, and are fond of them. It's a famous thing, I assure you. " "Let us gather some, then, " said Lucien; and the cousins commencedcutting off such stems as were still young and tender. As soon as theyhad obtained enough, they took their way back to the camp. Basil hadalready arrived with a fine _prairie hen_ which he had shot, and Sandyhad brought back a squirrel; so that, with François's fish, of which asufficient number had been caught, Lucien was likely to be able to keephis promise about the dinner. François, however, could not yet comprehend how the soup was to beboiled in a wooden pot; and, indeed, Basil was unable to guess. Norman, however, knew well enough, for he had travelled through the country ofthe Assinoboil Indians, who take their name from this very thing. He hadalso witnessed the operation performed by Crees, Chippewas, and evenvoyageurs, where metal or earthen pots could not be obtained. On the next day the mystery was cleared up to Basil and François. Lucienfirst collected a number of stones--about as large as paving-stones. Hechose such as were hard and smooth. These he flung into the cinders, where they soon became red-hot. The water and meat were now put into thebark pot, and then one stone after another, --each being taken out as itgot cooled, --until the water came to a fierce boil. The rice and otheringredients were added at the proper time, and in a short while anexcellent soup was made. So much, then, for the soup, and the boileddishes with vegetables. The roast, of course, was easily made ready upongreen-wood spits, and the "game" was cooked in a similar way. The fishwere broiled upon the red cinders, and eaten, as is usual, after thesoup. There were no puddings or pies, though, no doubt, Lucien couldhave made such had they been wanted. In their place there was an excellent service of fruit. There werestrawberries and raspberries, one sort of which found wild in thisregion is of a most delicious flavour. There were gooseberries andcurrants; but the most delicious fruit, and that which François likedbest, was a small berry of a dark blue colour, not unlike thehuckleberry, but much sweeter and of higher flavour. It grows on a lowbush or shrub with ovate leaves; and this bush when it blossoms is socovered with beautiful white flowers, that neither leaves nor branchescan be seen. There are no less than four varieties of it known, two ofwhich attain to the height of twenty feet or more. The French Canadianscall it "le poire, " but in most parts of America it is known as the"service-berry, " although several other names are given to it indifferent districts. Lucien informed his companions, while they werecrushing its sweet purplish fruit between their teeth, that itsbotanical name is _Amelanchier_. "Now, " remarked François, "if we only had a cup of coffee and a glass ofwine, we might say that we had dined in fashionable style. " "I think, " replied Lucien, "we are better without the wine, and as forthe other I cannot give you that, but I fancy I can provide you with acup of tea if you only allow me a little time. " "Tea!" screamed François; "why, there's not a leaf of tea nearer thanChina; and for the sugar, not a grain within hundreds of miles!" "Come, Frank, " said Lucien, "nature has not been so ungenerous here, even in such luxuries as tea and sugar. Look yonder! You see those largetrees with the dark-coloured trunks. What are they?" "Sugar-maples, " replied François. "Well, " said Lucien, "I think even at this late season we might contriveto extract sap enough from them to sweeten a cup of tea. You may try, while I go in search of the tea-plant. " "Upon my word, Luce, you are equal to a wholesale grocery. Very well. Come, Basil, we'll tap the maples; let the captain go with Luce. " The boys, separating into pairs, walked off, in different directions. Lucien and his companion soon lighted upon the object of their search inthe same wet bottom where they had procured the _Heracleum_. It was abranching shrub, not over two feet in height, with small leaves of adeep green colour above, but whitish and woolly underneath. It is aplant well known throughout most of the Hudson's Bay territory by thename of "Labrador tea-plant;" and is so called because the Canadianvoyageurs, and other travellers through these northern districts, oftendrink it as tea. It is one of the _Ericaceĉ_, or heath tribe, of thegenus _Ledum_--though it is not a true heath, as, strange to say, notrue heath is found upon the continent of America. There are two kinds of it known, --the "narrow-leafed" and "broad-leafed"and the former makes the best tea. But the pretty white flowers of theplant are better for the purpose than the leaves of either variety; andthese it was that were now gathered by Lucien and Norman. They requireto be dried before the decoction is made; but this can be done in ashort time over a fire; and so in a short time it was done, Normanhaving parched them upon heated stones. Meanwhile Basil and François had obtained the sugar-water, and Lucienhaving washed his soup-kettle clean, and once more made his boilingstones red-hot, prepared the beverage; and then it was served out in thetin cup, and all partook of it. Norman had drunk the Labrador teabefore, and was rather fond of it, but his Southern cousins did not muchrelish it. Its peculiar flavour, which somewhat resembles rhubarb, wasnot at all to the liking of François. All, however, admitted that itproduced a cheering effect upon their spirits; and, after drinking it, they felt in that peculiarly happy state of mind which one experiencesafter a cup of the real "Bohea. " CHAPTER XVI. THE MARMOTS OF AMERICA. From such a luxurious dinner you may suppose that our young voyageurslived in prime style. But it was not always so. They had their fasts aswell as feasts. Sometimes for days they had nothing to eat but thejerked deer-meat. No bread--no beer--no coffee, nothing but water--dryvenison and water. Of course, this is food enough for a hungry man; butit can hardly be called luxurious living. Now and then a wild duck, or agoose, or perhaps a young swan, was shot; and this change in their dietwas very agreeable. Fish were caught only upon occasions, for oftenthese capricious creatures refused François' bait, however temptinglyoffered. After three weeks' coasting the Lake, they reached the Saskatchewan, andturning up that stream, now travelled in a due westerly direction. Atthe Grand Rapids, near the mouth of this river, they were obliged tomake a portage of no less than three miles, but the magnificent view ofthese "Rapids" fully repaid them for the toil they underwent in passingthem. The Saskatchewan is one of the largest rivers in America, being full1600 miles in length, from its source in the Rocky Mountains to its_débouchure_, under the name of the "Nelson River, " in Hudson's Bay. Forsome distance above Lake Winnipeg, the country upon its banks is wellwooded. Farther up, the river runs through dry sandy prairies thatextend westward to the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains. Many of theseprairies may be properly called "deserts. " They contain lakes as salt asthe ocean itself, and vast tracts--hundreds of square miles inextent--where not a drop of water is to be met with. But the route ofour voyageurs did not lie over these prairies. It was their intention, after reaching Cumberland House, to turn again in a northerly direction. One evening, when within two days' journey of the Fort, they hadencamped upon the bank of the Saskatchewan. They had chosen a beautifulspot for their camp, where the country, swelling into rounded hills, wasprettily interspersed with bushy copses of _Amelanchiers_, and _Rosablanda_ whose pale red flowers were conspicuous among the green leaves, and filled the air with a sweet fragrance, that was wafted to ourvoyageurs upon the sunny breeze. The ground was covered with a grassysward enamelled by the pink flowers of the _Cleome_, and the deeper redblossoms of the beautiful wind-flower. Upon that day our travellers had not succeeded in killing any game, andtheir dinner was likely to consist of nothing better than dry venisonscorched over the coals. As they had been travelling all the morningagainst a sharp current, and, of course, had taken turn about at thepaddles, they all felt fatigued, and none of them was inclined to go insearch of game. They had flung themselves down around the fire, and werewaiting until the venison should be broiled for dinner. The camp had been placed at the foot of a tolerably steep hill, thatrose near the banks of the river. There was another and higher hillfacing it, the whole front of which could be seen by our travellers asthey sat around their fire. While glancing their eyes along itsdeclivity, they noticed a number of small protuberances or moundsstanding within a few feet of each other. Each of them was about a footin height, and of the form of a truncated cone--that is, a cone with itstop cut off, or beaten down. "What are they?" inquired François. "I fancy, " answered Lucien, "they are marmot-houses. " "They are, " affirmed Norman; "there are plenty of them in this country. " "Oh! marmots!" said François. "Prairie-dogs, you mean?--the same we metwith on the Southern prairies?" "I think not, " replied Norman: "I think the prairie-dogs are a differentsort. Are they not, cousin Luce?" "Yes, yes, " answered the naturalist; "these must be a different species. There are too few of them to be the houses of prairie-dogs. The 'dogs'live in large settlements, many hundreds of them in one place; besides, their domes are somewhat different in appearance from these. The moundsof the prairie-dogs have a hole in the top or on one side. These, yousee, have not. The hole is in the ground beside them, and the hill is infront, made by the earth taken out of the burrow, just as you have seenit at the entrance of a rat's hole. They are marmots, I have no doubt, but of a different species from the prairie-dog marmots. " "Are there not many kinds of marmots in America? I have heard so, " saidFrançois. This question was of course addressed to Lucien. "Yes, " answered he. "The _fauna_ of North America is peculiarly rich inspecies of these singular animals. There are thirteen kinds of them, well known to naturalists; and there are even some varieties in thesethirteen kinds that might almost be considered distinct species. I haveno doubt, moreover, there are yet other species which have not beendescribed. Perhaps, altogether, there are not less than twenty differentkinds of marmots in North America. As only one or two species are foundin the settled territories of the United States, it was supposed, untillately, that there were no others. Latterly the naturalists of NorthAmerica have been very active in their researches, and no genus ofanimals has rewarded them so well as the marmots--unless, perhaps, itmay be the squirrels. Almost every year a new species of one or theother of these has been found--mostly inhabiting the vast wildernessterritories that lie between the Mississippi and the Pacific Ocean. "These little animals seem to form a link between the squirrels andrabbits. On the side of the squirrels they very naturally join on, if Imay use the expression, to the ground-squirrel, and some of them, differbut little in their habits from many of the latter. Other species, again, are more allied to the rabbits, and less like the squirrels; andthere are two or three kinds that I should say--using a Yankeeexpression--have a 'sprinkling' of the rat in them. Some, as theground-hog, or wood-chuck of the United States, are as large as rabbits, while others, as the leopard-marmot, are not bigger than Norway rats. "Some species have cheek-pouches, in which they can carry a largequantity of seeds, nuts, and roots, when they wish to hoard them up forfuture use. These are the spermophiles, and some species of these havemore capacious pouches than others. Their food differs somewhat, perhaps according to the circumstances in which they may be placed. Inall cases it is vegetable. Some, as the prairie-dogs, live upon grasses, while others subsist chiefly upon seeds, berries, and leaves. "It was long supposed that the marmots, like the squirrels, laid upstores against the winter. I believe this is not the case with any ofthe different species. I know for certain that most of them pass thewinter in a state of torpidity, and of course require no provisions, asthey eat nothing during that season. In this we observe one of thosecases in which Nature so beautifully adapts a creature to itscircumstances. In the countries where many of the marmots are found, sosevere are the winters, and so barren the soil, that it would beimpossible for these creatures to get a morsel of food for many longmonths. "During this period, therefore, Nature suspends her functions, byputting them into a deep, and, for aught we know to the contrary, apleasant sleep. It is only when the snow melts, under the vernal sun, and the green blades of grass and the spring flowers array themselves onthe surface of the earth, that the little marmots make their appearanceagain. Then the warm air, penetrating into their subterranean abodes, admonishes them to awake from their protracted slumber, and come forthto the enjoyment of their summer life. These animals may be said, therefore, to have no winter. Their life is altogether a season ofsummer and sunshine. " "Some of the marmots, " continued Lucien, "live in large communities, asthe prairie dogs; others, in smaller tribes, while still other specieslead a solitary life, going only in pairs, or at most in families. Nearly all of them are burrowing animals, though there are one or twospecies that are satisfied with a cleft in the rock, or a hole amongloose stones for their nests. Some of them are tree-climbers, but it issupposed they only ascend trees in search of food, as they do not maketheir dwellings there. Many of the species are very prolific, thefemales bringing forth eight, and even ten young at a birth. "The marmots are extremely shy and watchful creatures. Before going tofeed, they usually reconnoitre the ground from the tops of their littlemounds. Some species do not have such mounds, and for this purposeascend any little hillock that may be near. Nearly all have the curioushabit of placing sentries to watch while the rest are feeding. Thesesentries station themselves on some commanding point, and when they seean enemy approaching give warning to the others by a peculiar cry. Inseveral of the species this cry resembles the syllables 'seek-seek'repeated with a hiss. Others bark like 'toy-dogs, ' while still otherkinds utter a whistling noise, from which one species derives itstrivial name of 'whistler' among the traders, and is the 'siffleur' ofthe Canadian voyageurs. "The 'whistler's' call of alarm can be heard at a great distance; andwhen uttered by the sentinel is repeated by all the others as far as thetroop extends. "The marmots are eaten both by Indians and white hunters. Sometimes theyare captured by pouring water into their burrows; but this method onlysucceeds in early spring, when the animals awake out of their torpidstate, and the ground is still frozen hard enough to prevent the waterfrom filtering away. They are sometimes shot with guns; but, unlesskilled upon the spot, they will escape to their burrows, and tumble inbefore the hunter can lay his hands upon them. " CHAPTER XVII. THE BLAIREAU, THE "TAWNIES, " AND THE "LEOPARDS. " Perhaps Lucien would have carried his account of the marmots stillfarther--for he had not told half what he knew of their habits--but hewas at that moment interrupted by the marmots themselves. Several ofthem appeared at the mouths of their holes; and, after looking out andreconnoitring for some moments, became bolder, and ran up to the tops oftheir mounds, and began to scatter along the little beaten paths thatled from one to the other. In a short while as many as a dozen could beseen moving about, jerking their tails, and at intervals uttering theirseek-seek. Our voyageurs saw that there were two kinds of them, entirely differentin colour, size, and other respects. The larger ones were of a greyishyellow above, with an orange tint upon the throat and belly. These werethe "tawny marmots, " called sometimes "ground-squirrels, " and by thevoyageurs, "siffleurs, " or "whistlers. " The other species seen were the most beautiful of all the marmots. Theywere very little smaller than the tawny marmots; but their tails werelarger and more slender, which rendered their appearance more graceful. Their chief beauty, however, lay in their colours and markings. Theywere striped from the nose to the rump with bands of yellow andchocolate colour, which alternated with each other, while the chocolatebands were themselves variegated by rows of yellow spots regularlyplaced. These markings gave the animals that peculiar appearance so wellknown as characterising the skin of the leopard, hence the name of theselittle creatures was "leopard marmots. " It was plain from their actions that both kinds were "at home" among themounds, and that both had their burrows there. This was the fact, andNorman told his companion that the two kinds are always found together, not living in the same houses, but only as neighbours in the same"settlement. " The burrows of the "leopard" have much smaller entrancesthan those of their "tawny kin, " and run down perpendicularly to agreater depth before branching off in a horizontal direction. A straightstick may be thrust down one of these full five feet before reaching an"elbow. " The holes of the tawny marmots, on the contrary, branch off near thesurface, and are not so deep under ground. This guides us to theexplanation of a singular fact--which is, that the "tawnies" make theirappearance three weeks earlier in spring than the "leopards, " inconsequence of the heat of the sun reaching them sooner, and waking themout of their torpid sleep. While these explanations were passing among the boys, the marmots hadcome out, to the number of a score, and were carrying on their gambolsalong the declivity of the hill. They were at too great a distance toheed the movements of the travellers by the camp fire. Besides, aconsiderable valley lay between them and the camp, which, as theybelieved, rendered their position secure. They were not at such adistance but that many of their movements could be clearly made out bythe boys, who after a while noticed that several furious battles werebeing fought among them. It was not the "tawnies" against the others, but the males of each kind in single combats with one another. They fought like little cats, exhibiting the highest degree of boldnessand fury; but it was noticed that in these conflicts the leopards werefar more active and spiteful than their kinsmen. In observing themthrough his glass Lucien noticed that they frequently seized each otherby the tails, and he further noticed that several of them had theirtails much shorter than the rest. Norman said that these had been bittenoff in their battles; and, moreover, that it was a rare thing to findamong the males, or "bucks, " as he called them, one that had a perfecttail! While these observations were being made, the attention of our party wasattracted to a strange animal that was seen slowly crawling around thehill. It was a creature about as big as an ordinary setter dog, but muchthicker in the body, shorter in the legs, and shaggier in the coat. Itshead was flat, and its ears short and rounded. Its hair was long, rough, and of a mottled hoary grey colour, but dark-brown upon the legs andtail. The latter, though covered with long hair, was short, and carriedupright; and upon the broad feet of the animal could be seen long andstrong curving claws. Its snout was sharp as that of a greyhound--thoughnot so prettily formed--and a white stripe, passing from its very tipover the crown, and bordered by two darker bands, gave a singularexpression to the animal's countenance. It was altogether, both in form and feature, a strange andvicious-looking creature. Norman recognised it at once as the"blaireau, " or American badger. The others had never seen such acreature before--as it is not an inhabitant of the South, nor of anypart of the settled portion of the United States. The badger when first seen was creeping along with its belly almostdragging the ground, and its long snout projected horizontally in thedirection of the marmot "village. " It was evidently meditating asurprise of the inhabitants. Now and then it would stop, like a pointerdog when close to a partridge, reconnoitre a moment, and then go onagain. Its design appeared to be to get between the marmots and theirburrows, intercept some of them, and get a hold of them without thetrouble of digging them up--although that would be no great affair toit, for so strong are its fore-arms and claws that in loose soil it canmake its way under the ground as fast as a mole. Slowly and cautiously it stole along, its hind-feet resting all theirlength upon the ground, its hideous snout thrown forward, and its eyesglaring with a voracious and hungry expression. It had got within fiftypaces of the marmots, and would, no doubt, have succeeded in cutting offthe retreat of some of them, but at that moment a burrowing owl that hadbeen perched upon one of the mounds, rose up, and commenced hovering incircles above the intruder. This drew the attention of the marmotsentries to their well-known enemy, and their warning cry was followedby a general scamper of both tawnies and leopards towards theirrespective burrows. The blaireau, seeing that further concealment was no longer of any use, raised himself higher upon his limbs, and sprang forward in pursuit. Hewas too late, however, as the marmots had all got into their holes, andtheir angry "seek-seek" was heard proceeding from various quarters outof the bowels of the earth. The blaireau only hesitated long enough toselect one of the burrows into which he was sure a marmot had entered;and then, setting himself to his work, he commenced throwing out themould like a terrier. In a few seconds he was half buried, and hishind-quarters and tail alone remained above ground. [Illustration: THE BLAIREAU AND THE MARMOTS] He would soon have disappeared entirely, but at that moment the boys, directed and headed by Norman, ran up the hill, and, seizing him by thetail, endeavoured to jerk him back. That, however, was a task which theycould not accomplish, for first one and then another, and then Basil andNorman--who were both strong boys--pulled with all their might, andcould not move him. Norman cautioned them against letting him go, as ina moment's time he would burrow beyond their reach. So they held onuntil François had got his gun ready. This the latter soon did, and aload of small shot was fired into the blaireau's hips, which, althoughit did not quite kill him, caused him to back out of the hole, andbrought him into the clutches of Marengo. A desperate struggle ensued, which ended by the bloodhound doubling hisvast black muzzle upon the throat of the blaireau, and choking him todeath in less than a dozen seconds; and then his hide--the only partwhich was deemed of any value--was taken off and carried to the camp. The carcass was left upon the face of the hill, and the red shiningobject was soon espied by the buzzards and turkey vultures, so that in afew minutes' time several of these filthy birds were seen hoveringaround, and alighting upon the hill. But this was no new sight to our young voyageurs, and soon ceased to benoticed by them. Another bird, of a different kind, for a short timeengaged their attention. It was a large hawk, which Lucien, as soon ashe saw it, pronounced to be one of the kind known as buzzards. Of thesethere are several species in North America, but it is not to be supposedthat there is any resemblance between them and the buzzards justmentioned as having alighted by the carcass of the blaireau. The latter, commonly called "turkey buzzards, " are true vultures, and feed mostly, though not exclusively, on carrion; while the "hawk buzzards" have allthe appearance and general habits of the rest of the falcon tribe. The one in question, Lucien said, was the "marsh-hawk, " sometimes alsocalled the "hen-harrier. " Norman stated that it was known among theIndians of these parts as the "snake-bird, " because it preys upon aspecies of small green snake that is common on the plains of theSaskatchewan, and of which it is fonder than of any other food. The voyageurs were not long in having evidence of the appropriateness ofthe Indian appellation; for these people, like other savages, have thegood habit of giving names that express some quality or characteristicof the thing itself. The bird in question was on the wing, and from itsmovements evidently searching for game. It sailed in easy circlings nearthe surface, _quartering_ the ground like a pointer dog. It flew solightly that its wings were not seen to move, and throughout all itswheelings and turnings it appeared to be carried onwards or upwards bythe power of mere volition. Once or twice its course brought it directly over the camp, and Françoishad got hold of his gun, with the intention of bringing it down, but oneach occasion it perceived his motions; and, soaring up like apaper-kite until out of reach, it passed over the camp, and then sankdown again upon the other side, and continued its "quarterings" asbefore. For nearly half-an-hour it went on manoevring in this way, whenall at once it was seen to make a sudden turning in the air as it fixedits eyes upon some object in the grass. The next moment it glided diagonally towards the earth, and poisingitself for a moment above the surface, rose again with a smallgreen-coloured snake struggling in its talons. After ascending to someheight, it directed its flight towards a clump of trees, and was soonlost to the view of our travellers. Lucien now pointed out to his companions a characteristic of the hawkand buzzard tribe, by which these birds can always be distinguished fromthe true falcon. That peculiarity lay in the manner of seizing theirprey. The former skim forward upon it sideways--that is, in a horizontalor diagonal direction, and pick it up in passing; while the truefalcons--as the merlin, the peregrine, the gerfalcon, and the greateagle-falcons--shoot down upon their prey _perpendicularly_ like anarrow, or a piece of falling lead. He pointed out, moreover, how the structure of the different kinds ofpreying birds, such as the size and form of the wings and tail, as wellas other parts, were in each kind adapted to its peculiar mode ofpursuing its prey; and then there arose a discussion as to whether thisadaption should be considered a _cause_, or an _effect_. Luciensucceeded in convincing his companions that the structure was the effectand not the cause of the habit, for the young naturalist was a firmbeliever in the changing and progressive system of nature. CHAPTER XVIII. AN ODD SORT OF DECOY-DUCK. Two days after the adventure with the blaireau, the young voyageursarrived at Cumberland House--one of the most celebrated posts of theHudson's Bay Company. The chief factor, who resided there, was a friendof Norman's father, and of course the youths were received with thewarmest hospitality, and entertained during their stay in the bestmanner the place afforded. They did not make a long stay, however, asthey wished to complete their journey before the winter should set in, when canoe-travelling would become impossible. During winter, not only the lakes, but the most rapid rivers of theseNorthern regions, become frozen up, and remain so for many months. Nearly the whole surface of the earth is buried under deep snow, andtravelling can only be done with snow-shoes, or with sledges drawn bydogs. These are the modes practised by the Indians, the Esquimaux, andthe few white traders and trappers who have occasion in winter to passfrom one point to another of that icy and desolate region. Travelling under such circumstances is not only difficult and laborious, but is extremely perilous. Food cannot always be obtained--supplies fallshort, or become exhausted--game is scarce, or cannot be found at all, as at that season many of the quadrupeds and most of the birds haveforsaken the country, and migrated to the South--and whole parties oftravellers--even Indians, who can eat anything living or dead, roast orraw--often perish from hunger. Our travellers were well acquainted with these facts; and being anxious, therefore, to get to the end of their journey before the winter shouldcome down upon them, made all haste to proceed. Of course they obtaineda new "outfit" at the Fort; but they took with them only such articlesas were absolutely necessary, as they had many portages to make beforethey could reach the waters of the Mackenzie River. As it required twoof the party to carry the canoe, with a few little things besides, allthe baggage was comprised in such loads as the others could manage; andof course that was not a great deal, for François was but a lad, andLucien was far from being in robust health. A light axe, a few cookingutensils, with a small stock of provisions, and of course their guns, formed the bulk of their loads. After leaving the Fort they kept for several days' journey up theSaskatchewan. They then took leave of that river, and ascended a smallstream that emptied into it from the north. Making their first portageover a "divide, " they reached another small stream that ran in quite adifferent direction, emptying itself into one of the branches of theMississippi, or Churchill River. Following this in a north-westerlycourse, and making numerous other portages, they reached Lake La Crosse, and afterwards in succession, Lakes Clear, Buffalo, and Methy. A long "portage" from the last-mentioned lake brought them to the headof a stream known as the "Clear Water;" and launching their canoe uponthis, they floated down to its mouth, and entered the main stream of theElk, or Athabasca, one of the most beautiful rivers of America. Theywere now in reality upon the waters of the Mackenzie itself, for theElk, after passing through the Athabasca takes from thence the name ofSlave River, and having traversed Great Slave Lake, becomes theMackenzie--under which name it continues on to the Arctic Ocean. Having got, therefore, upon the main head-water of the stream which theyintended to traverse, they floated along in their canoe with lighthearts and high hopes. It is true they had yet fifteen hundred miles totravel, but they believed that it was all down-hill work now; and asthey had still nearly two months of summer before them, they doubted notbeing able to accomplish the voyage in good time. On they floated down stream, feasting their eyes as they went--for thescenery of the Elk valley is of a most picturesque and pleasingcharacter; and the broad bosom of the stream itself, studded with woodedislands, looked to our travellers more like a continuation of lakes thana running river. Now they glided along without using an oar, borneonward by the current; then they would take a spell at the paddles, while the beautiful Canadian boat-song could be heard as it came fromthe tiny craft, and the appropriate chorus "Row, brothers, row!" echoedfrom the adjacent shores. No part of their journey was more pleasantthan while descending the romantic Elk. They found plenty of fresh provisions, both in the stream itself and onits banks. They caught salmon in the water, and the silver-colouredhyodon, known among the voyageurs by the name of "Doré. " They shot bothducks and geese, and roast-duck or goose had become an everyday dinnerwith them. Of the geese there were several species. There were"snow-geese, " so called from their beautiful white plumage; and"laughing geese, " that derive their name from the circumstance thattheir call resembles the laugh of a man. The Indians decoy these by striking their open hand repeatedly over themouth while uttering the syllable "wah. " They also saw the "Brentgoose, " a well-known species, and the "Canada goose, " which is the _wildgoose par excellence_. Another species resembling the latter, called the"barnacle goose, " was seen by our travellers. Besides these, Lucieninformed them that there were several other smaller kinds that inhabitthe northern countries of America. These valuable birds are objects ofgreat interest to the people of the fur countries for months in theyear. Whole tribes of Indians look to them as a means of support. With regard to ducks, there was one species which our travellers had notyet met with, and for which they were every day upon the look-out. Thiswas the far-famed "canvass-back, " so justly celebrated among theepicures of America. None of them had ever eaten of it, as it is notknown in Louisiana, but only upon the Atlantic coast of the UnitedStates. Norman, however, had heard of its existence in the RockyMountains--where it is said to breed--as well as in other parts of thefur countries, and they were in hopes that they might fall in with itupon the waters of the Athabasca. Lucien was, of course, well acquainted with its "biography, " and couldhave recognised one at sight; and as they glided along he volunteered togive his companions some information, not only about this particularspecies, but about the whole genus of these interesting birds. "The canvass-back, " began he, "is perhaps the most celebrated andhighly-prized of all the ducks, on account of the exquisite flavour ofits flesh--which is thought by some epicures to be superior to that ofall other birds. It is not a large duck--rarely weighing over threepounds--and its plumage is far from equalling in beauty that of manyother species. It has a red or chestnut-coloured head, a shining blackbreast, while the greater part of its body is of a greyish colour; butupon close examination this grey is found to be produced by a whitishground minutely mottled with zig-zag black lines. I believe it is thismottling, combined with the colour, which somewhat resembles theappearance and texture of ship's canvass, that has given the bird itstrivial name; but there is some obscurity about the origin of this. "Shooting the canvass-backs is a source of profit to hundreds of gunnerswho live around the Chesapeake Bay, as these birds command a high pricein the markets of the American cities. Disputes have arisen between thefowlers of different States around the Bay about the right of shootingupon it; and vessels full of armed men--ready to make war upon oneanother--have gone out on this account. But the government of theseStates succeeded in settling the matter peacefully, and to thesatisfaction of all parties. " The canoe at this moment shot round a bend, and a long smooth expanse ofthe river appeared before the eyes of our voyageurs. They could see thatupon one side another stream ran in, with a very sluggish current; andaround the mouth of this, and for a good stretch below it, thereappeared a green sedge-like water-grass, or rushes. Near the border ofthis sedge, and in a part of it that was thin, a flock of wild fowl wasdiving and feeding. They were small, and evidently ducks; but thedistance was yet too great for the boys to make out to what species theybelonged. A single large swan--a trumpeter--was upon the water, between the shoreand the ducks, and was gradually making towards the latter. Françoisimmediately loaded one of his barrels with swan, or rather "buck" shot, and Basil looked to his rifle. The ducks were not thought of--thetrumpeter was to be the game. Lucien took out his telescope, andcommenced observing the flock. They had not intended to use anyprecaution in approaching the birds, as they were not extremely anxiousabout getting a shot, and were permitting the canoe to glide gentlytowards them. An exclamation from Lucien, however, caused them to change theirtactics. He directed them suddenly to "hold water, " and stop the canoe, at the same time telling them that the birds ahead were the very sortabout which they had been conversing--the "canvass-backs. " He had nodoubt of it, judging from their colour, size, and peculiar movements. The announcement produced a new excitement. All four were desirous notonly of shooting, but of _eating_, a canvass-back; and arrangements wereset about to effect the former. It was known to all that thecanvass-backs are among the shyest of water-fowl, so much so that it isdifficult to approach them unless under cover. While feeding, it issaid, they keep sentinels on the look-out. Whether this be true or not, it is certain that they never all dive together, some always remainingabove water, and apparently watching while the others are under. A plan to get near them was necessary, and one was suggested by Norman, which was to tie bushes around the sides of the canoe, so as to hideboth the vessel and those in it. This plan was at once adopted--thecanoe was paddled up to the bank--thick bushes were cut, and tied alongthe gunwale; and then our voyageurs climbed in, and laying themselves aslow as possible, commenced paddling gently downward in the direction ofthe ducks. The rifles were laid aside, as they could be of littleservice with such game. François' double-barrel was the arm upon whichdependence was now placed; and François himself leaned forward in thebow in order to be ready, while the others attended to the guidance ofthe vessel. The buckshot had been drawn out, and a smaller kindsubstituted. The swan was no longer cared for or even thought of. In about a quarter of an hour's time, the canoe, gliding silently alongthe edge of the sedge--which was the wild celery--came near the placewhere the ducks were; and the boys, peeping through the leafy screen, could now see the birds plainly. They saw that they were not allcanvass-backs, but that three distinct kinds of ducks were feedingtogether. One sort was the canvass-backs themselves, and a second kindvery much resembled them, except that they were a size smaller. Thesewere the "red-heads" or "pochards. " The third species was different from either. They had also heads of areddish colour, but of a brighter red, and marked by a white band thatran from the root of the bill over the crown. This mark enabled Lucienat once to tell the species. They were widgeons; but the most singularthing that was now observed by our voyageurs was the terms upon whichthese three kinds of birds lived with each other. It appeared that thewidgeon obtained its food by a regular system of robbery and plunderperpetrated upon the community of the canvass-backs. The latter, asLucien explained, feeds upon the roots of the valisneria; but for theseit is obliged to dive to the depth of four or five feet, and also tospend some time at the bottom while plucking them up. Now the widgeon isas fond of the "celery" as the canvass-back, but the former is not adiver--in fact, never goes under water except when washing itself or inplay, and it has therefore no means of procuring the desired roots. Mark, then, the plan that it takes to effect this end. Seated as near as is safe to the canvass-back, it waits until the lattermakes his _somersault_ and goes down. It (the widgeon) then dartsforward so as to be sufficiently close, and, pausing again, scans thesurface with eager eye. It can tell where the other is at work, as theblades of the plant at which it is tugging are seen to move above thewater. These at length disappear, pulled down as the plant is draggedfrom its root, and almost at the same instant the canvass-back comes upholding the root between his mandibles. But the widgeon is ready for him. He has calculated the exact spot wherethe other will rise; and, before the latter can open his eyes or getthem clear of the water, the widgeon darts forward, snatches theluscious morsel from his bill, and makes off with it. Conflictssometimes ensue; but the widgeon, knowing himself to be the lesser andweaker bird, never stands to give battle, but secures his prize throughhis superior agility. On the other hand, the canvass-back rarelyattempts to follow him, as he knows that the other is swifter upon thewater than he. He only looks after his lost root with an air of chagrin, and then, reflecting that there is "plenty more where it came from, "kicks up its heels, and once more plunges to the bottom. The red-head rarely interferes with either, as he is contented to feedupon the leaves and stalks, at all times floating in plenty upon thesurface. As the canoe glided near, those on board watched these curious manoeuvresof the birds with feelings of interest. They saw, moreover, that the"trumpeter" had arrived among them, and the ducks seemed to take nonotice of him. Lucien was struck with something unusual in theappearance of the swan. Its plumage seemed ruffled and on end, and itglided along in a stiff and unnatural manner. It moved its neck neitherto one side nor the other, but held its head bent forward, until itsbill almost touched the water, in the attitude that these birds adoptwhen feeding upon something near the surface. Lucien said nothing to hiscompanions, as they were all silent, lest they might frighten the ducks;but Basil and Norman had also remarked the strange look and conduct ofthe trumpeter. François' eyes were bent only upon the ducks, and he didnot heed the other. As they came closer, first Lucien, and then Basil and Norman, sawsomething else that puzzled them. Whenever the swan approached any ofthe ducks, these were observed to disappear under the water. At first, the boys thought that they merely dived to get out of his way, but itwas not exactly in the same manner as the others were diving for theroots. Moreover, none of those that went down in the neighbourhood ofthe swan were seen to come up again! There was something very odd in all this, and the three boys, thinkingso at the same time, were about to communicate their thoughts to oneanother, when the double crack of François' gun drove the thing, for amoment, out of their heads; and they all looked over the bushes to seehow many canvass-backs had been killed. Several were seen dead orfluttering along the surface; but no one counted them, for a strange, and even terrible, object now presented itself to the astonished sensesof all. If the conduct of the swan had been odd before, it was nowdoubly so. Instead of flying off after the shot, as all expected it would do, itwas now seen to dance and plunge about on the water, uttering loudscreams, that resembled the human voice far more than any other sounds!Then it rose as if pitched into the air, and fell on its back somedistance off; while in its place was seen a dark, round object movingthrough the water, as if making for the bank, and uttering, as it went, the same hideous human-like screams! This dark object was no other than the poll of a human being; and theriver shallowing towards the bank, it rose higher and higher above thewater, until the boys could distinguish the glistening neck and nakedshoulders of a red and brawny Indian! All was now explained. The Indianhad been duck-hunting, and had used the stuffed skin of the swan as hisdisguise; and hence the puzzling motions of the bird. He had not noticedthe canoe--concealed as it was--until the loud crack of François' gunhad startled him from his work. This, and the heads and white faces of the boys peeping over the bushes, had frightened him, even more than he had them. Perhaps they were thefirst white faces he had ever seen. But, whether or not, sadlyfrightened he was; for, on reaching the bank, he did not stop, but ranoff into the woods, howling and yelling as if Old Nick had been afterhim: and no doubt he believed that such was the case. The travellers picked up the swan-skin put of curiosity; and, inaddition to the ducks which François had killed, they found nearly ascore of these birds, which the Indian had dropped in his fright, andthat had afterwards risen to the surface. These were strung together, and all had their necks broken. After getting them aboard, the canoe was cleared of the bushes; and thepaddles being once more called into service, the little craft shot downstream like an arrow. CHAPTER XIX. THE SHRIKE AND THE HUMMING-BIRDS The picturesque scenery of the Elk appeared to be a favourite resortwith the feathered creation. Here our voyageurs saw many kinds of birds;both those that migrate into the fur countries during summer, and thosethat make their home there in the cold, dark days of winter. Among theformer were observed--the beautiful blue bird of Wilson which, onaccount of its gentle and innocent habits, is quite as much esteemed inAmerica as the "robin" in England. Another favourite of the farmer and the homestead, the purple martin, was seen gracefully wheeling through the air; while, among the greenleaves, fluttered many brilliant birds. The "cardinal grosbeak" with hisbright scarlet wings; the blue jay, noisy and chattering; the rarer"crossbill" with its deep crimson colour; and many others, equallybright and beautiful, enlivened the woods, either with their voice ortheir gaudy plumage. There was one bird, however, that had neither "fine feathers" nor anagreeable voice, but that interested our travellers more than any of theothers. Its voice was unpleasant to the ear, and sounded more like thegrating of a rusty hinge than anything else they could think of. Thebird itself was not larger than a thrush, of a light grey colour above, white underneath, and with blackish wings. Its bill resembled that ofthe hawks, but its legs were more like those of the woodpecker tribe;and it seemed, in fact, to be a cross between the two. It was neitherthe colour of the bird, nor its form, nor yet its song, that interestedour travellers, but its singular habits; and these they had a fineopportunity of observing at one of their "noon camps, " where they hadhalted to rest and refresh themselves during the hot mid-day hours. Theplace was on one of the little islets, which was covered with underwood, with here and there some larger trees. The underwood bushes were ofvarious sorts; but close to the spot where they had landed was a largethicket of honeysuckle, whose flowers were in full bloom, and filled theair with their sweet perfume. While seated near these, François' quick eye detected the presence ofsome very small birds moving among the blossoms. They were at oncepronounced to be humming-birds, and of that species known as the"ruby-throats" so called, because a flake of a beautiful vinous colourunder the throat of the males exhibits, in the sun, all the glancingglories of the ruby. The back, or upper parts, are of a gilded greencolour; and the little creature is the smallest bird that migrates intothe fur countries, with one exception, and that is a bird of the samegenus--the "cinnamon humming-bird. " The latter, however, has been seenin the Northern regions, only on the western side of the RockyMountains; but then it has been observed even as far north as the bleakand inhospitable shores of Nootka Sound. Mexico, and the tropicalcountries of America, are the favourite home of the humming-birds; andit was, for a long time, supposed that the "ruby-throats" were the onlyones that migrated farther north than the territory of Mexico itself. Itis now known, that besides the "cinnamon humming-bird, " two or threeother species annually make an excursion into higher latitudes. The "ruby-throats" not only travel into the fur countries, but breed innumbers upon the Elk River, the very place where our travellers nowobserved them. As they sat watching these little creatures, for there were several ofthem skipping about and poising themselves opposite the flowers, theattention of all was attracted to the movements of a far different sortof bird. It was that one we have been speaking of. It was seated upon atree, not far from the honeysuckles; but every now and then it wouldspring from its perch, dash forward, and after whirring about for somemoments among the humming-birds fly back to the same tree. At first the boys watched these manoeuvres without having their curiosityexcited. It was no new thing to see birds acting in this manner. Thejays, and many other birds of the fly-catching kind have this habit, andnothing was thought of it at the moment. Lucien, however, who hadwatched the bird more narrowly, presently declared to the rest that itwas catching the humming-birds, and preying upon them--that each time itmade a dash among the honeysuckles, it carried off one in its claws, thesmallness of the victim having prevented them at first from noticingthis fact. They all now watched it more closely than before, and weresoon satisfied of the truth of Lucien's assertion, as they saw it seizeone of the ruby-throats in the very act of entering the corolla of aflower. This excited the indignation of François, who immediately took up his"double-barrel, " and proceeded towards the tree where the bird, asbefore, had carried this last victim. The tree was a low one, of thelocust or _pseud-acacia_ family, and covered all over with great thornyspikes, like all trees of that tribe. François paid no attention tothis; but, keeping under shelter of the underwood, he crept forwarduntil within shot. Then raising his gun, he took aim, and pullingtrigger, brought the bird fluttering down through the branches. Hestepped forward and picked it up--not that he cared for such unworthygame, but Lucien had called to him to do so, as the naturalist wished tomake an examination of the creature. He was about turning to go back to camp, when he chanced to glance hiseye up into the locust-tree. There it was riveted by a sight whichcaused him to cry out with astonishment. His cry brought the restrunning up to the spot, and they were not less astonished than he, whenthey saw the cause of it. I have said that the branches of the tree werecovered with long thorny spikes that pointed in every direction; but onebranch in particular occupied their attention. Upon this there was abouta dozen of these spikes pointing upward, and upon each spike _wasimpaled a ruby-throat_! The little creatures were dead, of course, but they were neither tornnor even much ruffled in their plumage. They were all placed backupwards, and as neatly spitted upon the thorns as if they had been putthere by human hands. On looking more closely it was discovered thatother creatures as well as the humming-birds, had been served in asimilar manner. Several grasshoppers, spiders, and some coleopterousinsects were found, and upon another branch two small meadow-mice hadbeen treated to the same terrible death. To Basil, Norman, and François, the thing was quite inexplicable, butLucien understood well enough what it meant. All these creatures, heinformed them, were placed there by the bird which François had shot, and which was no other than the "shrike" or "butcher-bird"--a name bywhich it is more familiarly known, and which it receives from the veryhabit they had just observed. Why it follows such a practice Luciencould not tell, as naturalists are not agreed upon this point. Some haveasserted that it spits the spiders and other insects for the purpose ofattracting nearer the small birds upon which it preys; but this cannotbe true, for it preys mostly upon birds that are not insect-eaters, asthe finches: besides, it is itself as fond of eating grasshoppers asanything else, and consumes large quantities of these insects. The most probable explanation of the singular and apparently cruel habitof the butcher-bird is, that it merely places its victims upon thethorns, in order to keep them safe from ground-ants, rats, mice, raccoons, foxes, and other preying creatures--just as a good cook wouldhang up her meat or game in the larder to prevent the cats from carryingit off. The thorny tree thus becomes the storehouse of the shrike, wherehe hangs up his superfluous spoil for future use, just as the crows, magpies and jays, make their secret deposits in chinks of walls and thehollows of trees. It is no argument against this theory, that theshrike sometimes leaves these stores without returning to them. The fox, and dog, as well as many other preying creatures have the same habit. Wondering at what they had seen, the voyageurs returned to their camp, and once more embarked on their journey. CHAPTER XX. THE FISH-HAWK. A few days after, another incident occurred to our voyageurs, whichillustrated the habits of a very interesting bird, the "osprey, " orfish-hawk, as it is more familiarly known in America. The osprey is a bird of the falcon tribe, and one of the largest of thegenus--measuring two feet from bill to tail, with an immense spread ofwing in proportion, being nearly six feet from tip to tip. It is of adark brown colour above, that colour peculiar to most of the hawk tribe, while its lower parts are ashy white. Its legs and bill are blue, andits eyes of a yellow orange. It is found in nearly all parts of America, where there are waters containing fish, for on these it exclusivelyfeeds. It is more common on the sea-coast than in the interior, althoughit also frequents the large lakes, and lives in the central parts of thecontinent during summer, when these are no longer frozen over. It is notoften seen upon muddy rivers, as there it would stand no chance ofespying its victims in the water. It is a migratory bird, seeking theSouth in winter, and especially the shores of the Great Mexican Gulf, where large numbers are often seen fishing together. In the spring season these birds move to the northward, and make theirappearance along the Atlantic coast of the continent, where they diffusejoy into the hearts of the fishermen--because the latter know, on seeingthem, that they may soon expect the large shoals of herring, shad, andother fish, for which they have been anxiously looking out. So greatfavourites are they with the fisherman, that they would not knowinglykill an osprey for a boat-load of fish, but regard these bold fishingbirds in the light of "professional brethren. " In this case the oldadage that "two of a trade never agree" is clearly contradicted. The farmer often takes up his gun to fire at the osprey--mistaking itfor the red-tailed buzzard or some other hawk, several species of whichat a distance it resembles--but, on discovering his mistake, brings downhis piece without pulling trigger, and lets the osprey fly off unharmed. This singular conduct on the part of the farmer arises from hisknowledge of the fact, that the osprey will not only _not_ kill any ofhis ducks or hens, but that where he makes a settlement he will driveoff from the premises all the hawks, buzzards, and kites, that wouldotherwise prey upon the poultry. With such protection, therefore, theosprey is one of the securest birds in America. He may breed in a treeover the farmer's or fisherman's door without the slightest danger ofbeing disturbed in his incubation. I say _his_ incubation; but the male takes no part in this domesticduty, further than to supply his loved mate with plenty of fish whileshe does the hatching business. Of course, thus protected, the osprey isnot a rare bird. On the contrary, fish-hawks are more numerous thanperhaps any other species of the hawk tribe. Twenty or thirty nests maybe seen near each other in the same piece of woods, and as many as threehundred have been counted on one little island. The nests are built uponlarge trees--not always at the tops, as those of rooks, but often inforks within twenty feet of the ground. They are composed of largesticks, with stalks of corn, weeds, pieces of wet turf, and then linedplentifully with dry sea-grass, or any other grass that may be mostconvenient. The whole nest is big enough to make a load for a cart, and would beheavy enough to give any horse a good pull. It can be seen, when thewoods are open, to an immense distance, and the more easily, as the treeupon which it is built is always a "dead wood, " and therefore withoutleaves to conceal it. Some say that the birds select a dead or decayingtree for their nest. It is more probable such is the effect and not thecause, of their building upon a particular tree. It is more likely thatthe tree is killed partly by the mass of rubbish thus piled upon it, andpartly by the nature of the substances, such as sea-weed in the nest, the oil of the fish, the excrement of the birds themselves, and the deadfish that have been dropped about the root, and suffered to remainthere; for when the osprey lets fall his finny prey, which he oftendoes, he never condescends to pick it up again, but goes in search ofanother. Boys "a-nesting" might easily discover the nest of the osprey; but werethey inclined to despoil it of its three or four eggs (which are aboutthe size of a duck's, and blotched with Spanish brown), they would findthat a less easy task, for the owners would be very likely to claw theireyes out, or else scratch the tender skin from their beardless cheeks:so that boys do not often trouble the nest of the osprey. A very curious anecdote is related of a negro having climbed up toplunder a nest of these birds. The negro's head was covered with a closenap of his own black wool, which is supposed by a certain stretch offancy to have the peculiarity of "growing in at both ends. " The negro, having no other protection than that which his thick fur afforded him, was assailed by both the owners of the nest, one of which, making a dashat the "darkie's" head, struck his talons so firmly into the wool, thathe was unable to extricate them, and there stuck fast, until theastonished plunderer had reached the foot of the tree. We shall notanswer for the truthfulness of this anecdote, although there is nothingimprobable about it; for certain it is that these birds defend theirnests with courage and fury, and we know of more than one instance ofpersons being severely wounded who made the attempt to rob them. The ospreys, as already stated, feed exclusively on fish. They are notknown to prey upon birds or quadrupeds of any kind, even when deprivedof their customary food, as they sometimes are for days on account ofthe lakes and rivers, in which they expected to find it being frozenover to a later season than usual. Other birds, as the purple grakles, often build among the sticks of the osprey's nest, and rear their youngwithout being meddled with by this generous bird. This is an importantpoint of difference between the osprey and other kinds of hawks; andthere is a peculiarity of structure about the feet and legs of theosprey, that points to the nature of his food and his mode of procuringit. His legs are disproportionately long and strong. They are withoutfeathers nearly to the knees. The feet and toes are also very long, andthe soles are covered with thick, hard scales, like the teeth of a rasp, which enable the bird to hold securely his slippery prey. The claws, too, are long, and curved into semicircles, with points upon them almostas sharp as needles. I have stated that an incident occurred to our party that illustratedsome of the habits of this interesting bird. It was upon the afternoonof a Saturday, after they had fixed their camp to remain for thefollowing day. They had landed upon a point or promontory that ran outinto the river, and from which they commanded a view of a fine stretchof water. Near where they had placed their tent was the nest of anosprey, in the forks of a large poplar. The tree, as usual, was dead, and the young were plainly visible over the edge of the nest. Theyappeared to be full-grown and feathered; but it is a peculiarity of theyoung ospreys that they will remain in the nest, and be fed by theparent birds, until long after they might be considered able to shiftfor themselves. It is even asserted that the latter become impatient atlength, and drive the young ones out of the nest by beating them withtheir wings; but that for a considerable time afterwards they continueto feed them--most likely until the young birds learn to capture theirfinny prey for themselves. This Lucien gave as a popular statement, but did not vouch for itstruth. It was not long, however, before both he and his companionswitnessed its complete verification. The old birds, after the arrival of the voyageurs upon the promontory, had remained for some time around the nest, and at intervals had shotdown to where the party was, uttering loud screams, and making the airwhizz with the strokes of their wings. Seeing that there was nointention of disturbing them, they at length desisted from thesedemonstrations, and sat for a good while quietly upon the edge of theirnest. Then first one, and shortly after the other, flew out, andcommenced sailing in circles, at the height of an hundred feet or soabove the water. Nothing could be more graceful than their flight. Nowthey would poise themselves a moment in the air, then turn their bodiesas if on a pivot, and glide off in another direction. All these motions were carried on with the most perfect ease, and as ifwithout the slightest aid from the wings. Again they would come to apause, holding themselves fixed in mid-air by a gentle flapping, andappearing to scrutinise some object below. Perhaps it was a fish; but itwas either too large a one, or not the species most relished, or maybeit had sunk to too great a depth to be easily taken. Again they sailaround; one of them suddenly arrests its flight, and, like a stoneprojected from a sling, shoots down to the water. Before reaching thesurface, however, the fish, whose quick eye has detected the comingenemy, has gone to the dark bottom and concealed himself; and theosprey, suddenly checking himself by his wings and the spread of hisfull tail, mounts again, and re-commences his curvilinear flight. After this had gone on for some time, one of the birds--the larger one, and therefore the female--was seen to leave off hunting and return tothe nest. There she sat only for a few seconds, when, to theastonishment of the boys, she began to strike her wings against theyoung ones, as if she was endeavouring to force them from the nest. Thiswas just what she designed doing. Perhaps her late unsuccessful attemptto get them a fish had led her to a train of reflections, and sharpenedher determination to make them shift for themselves. However that maybe, in a few moments she succeeded in driving them up to the edge, andthen, by half pushing, and half beating them with her wings, one afterthe other--two of them there were--was seen to take wing, and soar awayout over the lake. At this moment, the male shot down upon the water, and then rose againinto the air, bearing a fish, head-foremost, in his talons. He flewdirectly towards one of the young, and meeting as it hovered in the air, turned suddenly over and held out the fish to it. The latter clutched itwith as much ease as if it had been accustomed to the thing for years, and then turning away, carried the fish to a neighbouring tree, andcommenced devouring it. The action had been perceived by the other youngster, who followedafter, and alighted upon the same branch, with the intention of sharingin the meal. In a few minutes the best part of the fish was eaten up, and both, rising from the branch, flew back to their nest. There theywere met by the parents, and welcomed with a loud squeaking, that wasintended, no doubt, to congratulate them upon the success of their first"fly. " CHAPTER XXI. THE OSPREY AND HIS TYRANT. After remaining for some time on the nest along with the others, the oldmale again resolved to "go a-fishing, " and with this intent he shot outfrom the tree, and commenced wheeling above the water. The boys, havingnothing better to engage them, sat watching his motions, while theyfreely conversed about his habits and other points in his naturalhistory. Lucien informed them that the osprey is a bird common to bothContinents, and that it is often seen upon the shores of theMediterranean, pursuing the finny tribes there, just as it does inAmerica. In some parts of Italy it is called the "leaden eagle, " becauseits sudden heavy plunge upon the water is fancied to resemble thefalling of a piece of lead. While they were discoursing, the osprey was seen to dip once or twicetowards the surface of the water, and then suddenly check himself, andmount upward again. These manoeuvres were no doubt caused by the fishwhich he intended to "hook" having suddenly shifted their quarters. Mostprobably experience had taught them wisdom, and they knew the osprey astheir most terrible enemy. But they were not to escape him at all times. As the boys watched the bird, he was seen to poise himself for aninstant in the air, then suddenly closing his wings, he shot verticallydownward. So rapid was his descent, that the eye could only trace it like a boltof lightning. There was a sharp whizzing sound in the air--a plash washeard--then the smooth bosom of the water was seen to break, and thewhite spray rose several feet above the surface. For an instant the birdwas no longer seen. He was underneath, and the place of his descent wasmarked by a patch of foam. Only a single moment was he out of sight. Thenext he emerged, and a few strokes of his broad wing carried him intothe air, while a large fish was seen griped in his claws. As thevoyageurs had before noticed, the fish was carried head-foremost, andthis led them to the conclusion that in striking his prey beneath thewater the osprey follows it and aims his blow from behind. After mounting a short distance the bird paused for a moment in the air, and gave himself a shake, precisely as a dog would do after coming outof water. He then directed his flight, now somewhat slow and heavy, toward the nest. On reaching the tree, however, there appeared to besome mismanagement. The fish caught among the branches as he flewinward. Perhaps the presence of the camp had distracted his attention, and rendered him less careful. At all events, the prey was seen to dropfrom his talons; and bounding from branch to branch, went tumbling downto the bottom of the tree. Nothing could be more opportune than this, for François had not beenable to get a "nibble" during the whole day, and a fresh fish for dinnerwas very desirable to all. François and Basil had both started to theirfeet, in order to secure the fish before the osprey should pounce downand pick it up; but Lucien assured them that they need be in no hurryabout that, as the bird would not touch it again after he had once letit fall. Hearing this, they took their time about it, and walkedleisurely up to the tree, where they found the fish lying. After takingit up they were fain to escape from the spot, for the effluvium arisingfrom a mass of other fish that lay in a decomposed state around the treewas more than any delicate pair of nostrils could endure. The one they had secured proved to be a very fine salmon of not lessthan six pounds weight, and therefore much heavier than the bird itself!The track of the osprey's talons was deeply marked; and by the directionin which the creature was scored, it was evident the bird had seized itfrom behind. The old hawks made a considerable noise while the fish wasbeing carried away; but they soon gave up their squealing, and, oncemore hovering out over the river, sailed about with their eyes bent uponthe water below. "What a number of fish they must kill!" said François. "They don'tappear to have much difficulty about it. I should think they get as muchas they can eat. See! there again! Another, I declare!" As François spoke the male osprey was seen to shoot down as before, andthis time, although he appeared scarcely to dip his foot in the water, rose up with a fish in his talons. "They have sometimes others to provide for besides themselves, " remarkedLucien. "For instance, the bald eagle----" Lucien was interrupted by a cackling scream, which was at oncerecognised as that of the very bird whose name had just escaped hislips. All eyes were instantly turned in the direction whence itcame--which was from the opposite side of the river--and there, just inthe act of launching itself from the top of a tall tree, was the greatenemy of the osprey--the white-headed eagle himself! "Now a chase!" cried François, "yonder comes the big robber!" With some excitement of feeling, the whole party watched the movementsof the birds. A few strokes of the eagle's wing brought him near; butthe osprey had already heard his scream, and knowing it was no usecarrying the fish to his nest, turned away from it, and rose spirallyupward, in the hope of escaping in that direction. The eagle followed, beating the air with his broad pinions, as he soared after. Close behindhim went the female osprey, uttering wild screams, flapping her wingsagainst his very beak, and endeavouring to distract his attention fromthe chase. It was to no purpose, however, as the eagle full well knewher object, and disregarding her impotent attempts, kept on in steadyflight after her mate. This continued until the birds had reached a highelevation, and the ospreys, from their less bulk, were nearly out ofsight. But the voyageurs could see that the eagle was on the point ofovertaking the one that carried the fish. [Illustration: THE OSPREY AND WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. ] Presently, a glittering object dropped down from the heavens, and fellwith a plunge upon the water. It was the fish, and almost at the sameinstant was heard the "whish!" of the eagle, as the great bird shotafter it. Before reaching the surface, however, his white tail and wingswere seen to spread suddenly, checking his downward course; and then, with a scream of disappointment, he flew off in a horizontal direction, and alit upon the same tree from which he had taken his departure. In aminute after the ospreys came shooting down, in a diagonal line, totheir nest; and, having arrived there, a loud and apparently angryconsultation was carried on for some time, in which the young birds boreas noisy a part as either of their parents. "It's a wonder, " said Lucien, "the eagle missed the fish--he rarelydoes. The impetus which he can give his body enables him to overtake afalling object before it can reach the earth. Perhaps the female ospreywas in his way, and hindered him. "But why did he not pick it up in the water?" demanded François. "Because it went to the bottom, and he could not reach it--that'sclear. " It was Basil who made answer, and the reason he assigned was the trueone. "It's too bad, " said François, "that the osprey, not half so big a bird, must support this great robber-tyrant by his industry. " "It's no worse than among our own kind, " interposed Basil. "See how thewhite man makes the black one work for him here in America. That, however, is the _few_ toiling for the _million_. In Europe the case isreversed. There, in every country, you see the million toiling for thefew--toiling to support an oligarchy in luxurious case, or a monarch inbarbaric splendour. " "But why do they do so? the fools!" asked François, somewhat angrily. "Because they know no better. That oligarchy, and those monarchs, havetaken precious care to educate and train them to the belief that such isthe _natural_ state of man. They furnish them with school-books, whichare filled with beautiful sophisms--all tending to inculcate principlesof endurance of wrong, and reverence for their wrongers. They fill theirrude throats with hurrah songs that paint false patriotism in glowingcolours, making loyalty--no matter to whatsoever despot--the greatest ofvirtues, and revolution the greatest of crimes; they studiously dividetheir subjects into several creeds, and then, playing upon the worst ofall passions--the passion of religious bigotry--easily prevent theirmisguided helots from uniting upon any point which would give them areal reform. Ah! it is a terrible game which the present rulers ofEurope are playing!" It was Basil who gave utterance to these sentiments, for the youngrepublican of Louisiana had already begun to think strongly on politicalsubjects. No doubt Basil would one day be an M. C. "The bald eagles have been much blamed for their treatment of theospreys, but, " said Lucien, "perhaps they have more reason for levyingtheir tax than at first appears. It has been asked: Why they do notcapture the fish themselves? Now, I apprehend, that there is a _natural_reason why they do not. As you have seen, the fish are not always caughtupon the surface. The osprey has often to plunge beneath the water inthe pursuit, and Nature has gifted him with power to do so, which, if Iam not mistaken, she has denied to the eagles. The latter are thereforecompelled, in some measure, to depend upon the former for a supply. Butthe eagles sometimes do catch the fish themselves, when the water issufficiently shallow, or when their prey comes near enough to thesurface to enable them to seize it. " "Do they ever kill the ospreys?" inquired François. "I think not, " replied Lucien; "that would be 'killing the goose, ' etc. They know the value of their tax-payers too well to get rid of them inthat way. A band of ospreys, in a place where there happens to be manyof them together, have been known to unite and drive the eagles off. That, I suppose, must be looked upon in the light of a successful_revolution_. " The conversation was here interrupted by another incident. The ospreyshad again gone out fishing, and, at this moment, one of them was seen topounce down and take a fish from the water. It was a large fish, and, asthe bird flew heavily upward, the eagle again left its perch, and gavechase. This time the osprey was overtaken before it had got two hundredyards into the air, and seeing it was no use attempting to carry off theprey, it opened its claws and let it drop. The eagle turned suddenly, poised himself a moment, and then shot afterthe falling fish. Before the latter had got near the ground, he overtookand secured it in his talons. Then, arresting his own flight by thesudden spread of his tail, he winged his way silently across the river, and disappeared among the trees upon the opposite side. The osprey, taking the thing as a matter of course, again descended to the properelevation, and betook himself to his work. Perhaps he grinned a little, like many another royal taxpayer, but he knew the tax had to be paid allthe same, and he said nothing. An incident soon after occurred that astonished and puzzled our partynot a little. The female osprey, that all this time seemed to have hadbut poor success in her fishing, was now seen to descend with a rush, and plunge deeply into the wave. The spray rose in a little cloud overthe spot, and all sat watching with eager eyes to witness the result. What was their astonishment when, after waiting many seconds, the birdstill remained under water! Minutes passed, and still she did not comeup. _She came up no more!_ The foam she had made in her descent floatedaway--the bosom of the water was smooth as glass--not a ripple disturbedits surface. They could have seen the smallest object for a hundredyards or more around the spot where she had disappeared. It was impossible she could have emerged without them seeing her. Where, then, had she gone? This, as I have said, puzzled the whole party; andformed a subject of conjecture and conversation for the rest of thatday, and also upon the next. Even Lucien was unable to solve themystery. It was a point in the natural history of the osprey unknown tohim. Could she have drowned herself? Had some great fish, the "garpike, " or some such creature, got hold of and swallowed her? Had shedashed her head against a rock, or become entangled in weeds at thebottom of the river? All these questions were put, and various solutions of the problem wereoffered. The true one was not thought of, until accident revealed it. It was Saturday when the incident occurred. The party, of course, remained all next day at the place. They heard almost continually thecry of the bereaved bird, who most likely knew no more than they whathad become of his mate. On Monday our travellers re-embarked andcontinued down-stream. About a mile below, as they were paddling along, their attention was drawn to a singular object floating upon the water. They brought the canoe alongside it. It was a large fish, a sturgeon, floating dead, with a bird beside it, also dead! On turning both over, what was their astonishment to see thatthe talons of the bird were firmly fixed in the back of the fish! It wasthe _female osprey_! This explained all. She had struck a fish too heavyfor her strength, and being unable to clear her claws again, had beendrawn under the water and had perished along with her victim! CHAPTER, XXII. THE VOYAGE INTERRUPTED. About ten days' rapid travelling down the Elk River brought our partyinto the Athabasca Lake--sometimes called the "Lake of the Hills. " Thisis another of those great bodies of fresh water that lie between theprimitive rocks of the "Barren Grounds, " and the more fertile limestonedeposit upon the west. It is nearly two hundred miles long from west toeast, and it is only fifteen miles in breadth, but in some places it isso narrow and full of islands that it looks more like a broad river thana lake. Its shores and many of its islands are thickly wooded, particularly upon the southern and western edges; and the eye of thetraveller is delighted with many a beautiful vista as he passes along. But our voyageurs took little heed of these things. A gloom had come over their spirits, for one of their party had takenill, and was suffering from a painful and dangerous disease--anintermittent fever. It was Lucien--he that was beloved by all of them. He had been complaining for several days--even while admiring the fairscenery of the romantic Elk--but every day he had been getting worse, until, on their arrival at the lake, he declared himself no longer ableto travel. It became necessary, therefore, to suspend their journey; andchoosing a place for their camp, they made arrangements to remain untilLucien should recover. They built a small log-hut for the invalid, anddid everything to make him as comfortable as possible. The best skinswere spread for his couch; and cooling drinks were brewed for him fromroots, fruits, and berries, in the way he had already taught hiscompanions to prepare them. Every day François went forth with his gun, and returned with a pair ofyoung pigeons, or a wood-partridge, or a brace of the beautiful ruffedgrouse; and out of these he would make delicate soups, which he was thebetter able to do as they had procured salt, pepper, and otheringredients, at the Fort. They had also brought with them a stock oftea--the real China tea--and sugar; and as the quantity of both was butsmall, this luxurious beverage was made exclusively for Lucien, and wasfound by him exceedingly beneficial during his illness. To the great joy of all the invalid was at length restored to health, and the canoe being once more launched and freighted, they continuedtheir journey. They coasted along the shores of the lake, and entered the Great SlaveRiver, which runs from the Athabasca into the Great Slave Lake. Theysoon came to the mouth of another large river, called the Peace. Thisruns into the Great Slave a short distance below Lake Athabasca, and, strange to say, the sources of the Peace River lie upon the _western_side of the Rocky Mountains, so that this stream actually runs acrossthe mountain-chain! It passes through the mountains in a succession ofdeep gorges, which are terrible to behold. On both sides dizzy cliffsand snow-capped peaks rise thousands of feet above its rocky bed, andthe scenery is cold and desolate. Its head-waters interlock with those of several streams that run intothe Pacific; so that, had our voyageurs wished to travel to the shoresof that ocean, they might have done so in their birch-bark canoe nearlythe whole of the way. But this was not their design at present, so theypassed the _débouchure_ of the Peace, and kept on for the Great SlaveLake. They were still upon the same water as the Elk, for the GreatSlave is only another name for that part of the river lying between thetwo lakes--Athabasca and Great Slave. Of course the river had now becomemuch larger by the influx of the Peace, and they were travelling uponthe bosom of a magnificent stream, with varied scenery upon its banks. They were not so happy, however, as when descending the Elk--not butthat they were all in good health, for Lucien had grown quite strongagain. No, it was not any want of health that rendered them lesscheerful. It was the prospect before them--the prospect of comingwinter, which they now felt certain would arrive before they had got tothe end of their journey. The delay of nearly a month, occasioned byLucien's illness, had deranged all their calculations; and they had nolonger any hope of being able to finish their voyage in what remained ofthe short summer. The ice would soon make its appearance; the lakes andrivers would be frozen up; they could no longer navigate them in theircanoe. To travel afoot would be a most laborious undertaking, as well asperilous in an extreme degree. In this way it is only possible to carry a very small quantity ofprovisions--for the traveller is compelled to load himself withskin-clothing in order to keep out the cold. The chances of procuringgame by the way in that season are precarious, and not to be dependedupon. Most of the birds and many of the quadrupeds migrate to moresouthern regions; and those that remain are shy and rare. Besides, greatsnow-storms are to be encountered, in which the traveller is in dangerof getting "smoored. " The earth is buried under a deep covering of snow, and to pass over this while soft is difficult, and at times quiteimpossible. All these circumstances were known to our youngvoyageurs--to Norman better than any of them--and of course the prospectwas a cheerless one--much more so than those unacquainted with thewinter of these dreary regions would be willing to believe. It was the month of August, near its end, when they reached the GreatSlave Lake, in the latitude of 62°. The days had now become very short, and their journeys grew short in proportion. They already experiencedweather as cold as an English winter. There were slight frosts atnight--though not yet enough to cover the water with ice--and themid-day hours were hot, sometimes too hot to be comfortable. But thisonly caused them to feel the cold the more sensibly when evening set in;and all their robes and skins were necessary to keep them warm duringthe night. The Great Slave Lake, like the Athabasca, is very long and very narrow. It extends full 260 miles from east to west, but at its widest part isnot over thirty, and in some places much less. Along its northern shoreslies the edge of the "Barren Grounds, " and there nothing meets the eyebut bleak and naked hills of primitive rock. On its southern side thegeology is entirely of a different character. There the limestoneprevails, and scarcely anything that deserves the name of hill is to beseen. There are fine forests too, in which poplars, pines, and birches, are the principal trees. The lake is filled with islands, many of whichare wholly or partially covered with timber of these kinds, and willowsalso are abundant. There are fish of several species in its waters--which are in manyplaces of great depth--sixty fathoms deep--and in some of the islands, and around the wooded shores, game exists in abundance in the summerseason. Even in winter it is not scarce, but then it is difficult tofollow it on account of the deep snow. Many of the animals, too, at thisseason become torpid, and are of course hidden in caves and hollowtrees, and even in the snow itself, where no one can find them. Notwithstanding all this, our voyageurs knew that it would be the bestplace for them to make their winter camp. They saw that to completetheir journey during that season would be impossible. Even had it been amonth earlier it would have been a difficult undertaking. In a few days winter would be upon them. They would have to stopsomewhere. There was no place where they could so safely stay as by thelake. One thing they would have there, which might not be found soplenty elsewhere, that was wood for their fire; and this was aninducement to remain by the lake. Having made up their minds, therefore, to encamp on some part of it, they looked from day to day for a placethat would be most suitable, still continuing their journey towards itswestern end. As yet no place appeared to their liking, and as the lakenear its western point trends away towards the south, Norman proposedthat they should follow the shore no longer, but strike across to apromontory on the northern shore of the lake, known as "Slave Point. " This promontory is of the limestone formation, and as Norman had heard, is well wooded, and stocked with game. Even buffaloes are found there. It is, in fact, the farthest point to the north-east that these animalsrange, and this presents us with a curious fact. It is the farthestpoint that the limestone deposit extends in that direction. Beyond that, to the east and north, lie the primitive rocks of the Barren Grounds, into which the buffaloes never stray. Thus we observe the connexion thatexists between the _fauna_ of a country and its geological character. Of course they all agreed to Norman's proposal. The canoe was, therefore, headed for the open waters; and, after a hard day'spaddling--for there was a head-wind--the voyageurs landed upon a smallwooded island, about half-way over the lake, where they encamped forthe night, intending next day to cross the remaining part. CHAPTER XXIII. FISHING UNDER THE ICE. On awaking next morning, to their great surprise, they saw that the_lake was frozen over_! They had almost anticipated as much, for thenight was one of the coldest they had yet experienced--so cold that oneand all of them had slept but badly. As yet the ice was thin, but somuch the worse. It was thick enough to prevent them from using thecanoe, but too thin to bear their weight, and they now saw that theywere _prisoners upon the island_! It was not without some feelings of alarm that they made this discovery;but their fears were allayed by reflecting, that they could remain uponthe island until the ice either thawed away or become strong enough tobear them, and then they could cross upon it to the northern shore. Withthis consolation, therefore, they set about making their temporaryquarters upon the island as snug as circumstances would permit. Theirapprehensions, however, began to return again, when several days hadpassed over, and the ice neither grew any thinner nor any thicker, butseemed to remain at a stand-still. In the early part of the morning itwas almost strong enough to bear them; but during the day the sun meltedit, until it was little better than a scum over the surface of thewater. The alarm of our voyageurs increased. Their provisions were nearly out. There was no game on the islet--not so much as a bird--for they hadbeaten every bush, and found nothing. Once or twice they thought oflaunching their canoe and breaking a way for it through the ice. Butthey knew that this proceeding would be one of much labour as well asdanger. The islet was full ten miles from the shore, and they wouldtherefore have to break the ice for ten miles. Moreover, to stand up ina bark canoe, so as to get at the work, would be a difficult task. Itcould not be accomplished without endangering the equilibrium of thevessel, and indeed without upsetting it altogether. Even to lean forwardin the bow would be a perilous experiment; and under theseconsiderations the idea of breaking a way was abandoned. But their provisions were at length entirely exhausted, and what was tobe done? The ice was still too weak to carry them. Near the shore itmight have been strong enough, but farther out lay the danger. Therethey knew it was thinner, for it had not frozen over until a laterperiod. It would have been madness to have risked it yet. On the otherhand, they were starving, or likely to starve from hunger, by stayingwhere they were. There was nothing eatable on the island. What was to bedone? In the water were fish--they doubted not that--but how were theyto catch them? They had tried them with hook and line, letting the hookthrough a hole in the ice; but at that late season the fish would nottake a bait, and although they kept several continually set, and"looked" them most regularly and assiduously, not a "tail" was taken. They were about to adopt the desperate expedient, now more difficultthan ever, of breaking their way through the ice, when, all at once, itoccurred to Norman, that, if they could not coax the fish to take abait, they might succeed better with a net, and capture them againsttheir will. This idea would have been plausible enough, had there been anet; but there was no net on that islet, nor perhaps within an hundredmiles of it. The absence of a net might have been an obstacle to thosewho are ever ready to despair; but such an obstacle never occurred toour courageous boys. They had two _parchment_ skins of the caribou whichthey had lately killed, and out of these Norman proposed to make a net. He would soon do it, he said, if the others would set to work and cutthe deer-skins into thongs fine enough for the purpose. Two of them, therefore, Basil and Lucien, took out their knives, and went briskly towork; while François assisted Norman in twining the thongs, andafterwards held them, while the latter wove and knotted them intomeshes. In a few hours both the skins were cut into fine strips, andworked up; and a net was produced nearly six yards in length by at leasttwo in width. It was rude enough, to be sure, but perhaps it would doits work as well as if it had been twined out of silk. At all events, itwas soon to have a trial--for the moment it was finished the sinkerswere attached to it, and it was carried down to the edge of the water. The three "Southerners" had never seen a net set under ice--for in theircountry ice is an uncommon thing, and indeed never freezes of sufficientthickness to carry the weight of a man. They were therefore very curiousto know how the thing was to be done. They could not conceive how thenet was to be stretched under the ice, in such a manner as to catch thefish. Norman, however, knew all about it. He had seen the Indians, andhad set many a one himself. It was no new thing for him, and he setabout it at once. He first crept out upon the ice to the distance of about twenty orthirty yards from the shore. He proceeded cautiously, as the ice creakedunder him. Having arrived at the place where he intended to set the net, he knelt down, and with his knife cut several holes in the ice, at thedistance of about six feet from each other, and all in one line. He hadalready provided himself with a straight sapling of more than six feetin length, to one end of which he had attached a cord. The other end ofthis cord was tied to the net, at one of its corners. He now thrust thesapling through the first hole he had made, and then guided it so as topass directly under the second. At this hole he took a fresh hold of the stick, and passed it along tothe next, and so on to the last, where he pulled it out again, and ofcourse along with it the string. The net was not drawn into the firsthole, and by means of the cord already received through, was pulled outto its full length. The sinkers, of course, fell down in the water, anddrew it into a vertical position. At both its upper corners the net wasmade fast above the ice, and was now "set. " Nothing more could be doneuntil the fish came into it of their own accord, when it could be drawnout upon the ice by means of the cord attached; and, of course, by thesame means could easily be returned to its place, and set again. All of them now went back to the fire, and with hungry looks sat aroundit, waiting the result. They had made up their minds, should no fish becaught, to get once more into the canoe and attempt breaking their wayto the shore. Summoning all their patience, therefore, they waited fornearly two hours, without examining the net. Then Norman and Basilcrawled back upon the ice, to see what fortune had done for them. Theyapproached the spot, and, with their hearts thumping against their ribs, untied the knot and commenced hauling out. "It certainly feels heavy, " said Basil, as the net was being drawn. "Hurrah!" he shouted, "Something kicks, hurrah!" and with the second"hurrah!" a beautiful fish was pulled up through the hole, and landedupon the ice. A loud "hurrah" was uttered in response by Lucien andFrançois--who, fearing the ice might not bear so many, had remained uponthe shore. A yard or two more of the net was cleared, and a second fishstill larger than the former was greeted with a general "hurrah!" Thetwo fish were now taken out--as these were all that had been caught--andthe net was once more carefully set. Basil and Norman came back to theshore--Norman to receive quite a shower of compliments from hiscompanions. The fish--the largest of which weighed nearly five pounds--proved to betrout; and it was not long before their quality was put to the proof. All declared they had never eaten so fine trout in their lives; but whenthe condition of their appetites is taken into account, we may inferthat there was, perhaps, a little exaggeration in this statement. Ifhunger really makes good sauce, our voyageurs had the best of sauce withtheir fish, as each of them was as hungry as a half-famished wolf. They felt quite relieved, as far as present appetite went, but they werestill uneasy for the future. Should they not succeed in taking morefish--and it was by no means certain they should succeed--they would beno better off than ever. Their anxiety, however, was soon removed. Theirsecond "haul" proved even more successful than the first--as five fish, weighing together not less than twenty pounds, were pulled up. This supply would enable them to hold out for a long time, but they hadnot much longer to remain on the islet. Upon that very night there wasone of those severe frosts known only in high latitudes, and the iceupon the lake became nearly a foot in thickness. They had no longer anyfear of its breaking under their weight; and taking their canoe with alltheir "traps, " they set out to cross over upon the ice. In a few hoursthey reached the shore of the lake, near the end of the promontory, where they chose a spot, and encamped. CHAPTER XXIV. AN ODD ALARM. The first thing our voyageurs did after choosing a suitable situation, was to build a log-hut. Being young backwoodsmen this was but a trifleto them. All four of them knew how to handle an axe with dexterity. Thelogs were soon cut and notched, and a small cabin was put up, and roofedwith split clap-boards. With the stones that lay near the shore of thelake they built a chimney. It was but a rude structure, but it drewadmirably. Clay was wanted to "chink" the cabin, but that could not behad, as the ground was hard frozen, and it was quite impossible to makeeither clay or mud. Even hot water poured out would freeze into ice in a few minutes. Thiswas a serious want--for in such a cold climate even the smallest hole inthe walls will keep a house uncomfortable, and to fill the intersticesbetween the logs, so as to make them air-tight, some soft substance wasnecessary. Grass was suggested, and Lucien went off in search of it. After awhile he returned with an armful of half-withered grass, whichall agreed would be the very thing; and a large quantity was sooncollected, as it grew plentifully at a short distance from the cabin. They now set to work to stuff it into the chinks; when, to theirastonishment, they found that this grass had a beautiful smell, quite aspowerful and as pleasant as that of mint or thyme! When a small quantityof it was flung into the fire it filled the cabin with a fragrance asagreeable as the costliest perfumes. It was the "scented grass, " whichgrows in great profusion in many parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, and out of which the Indians often make their beds, burning it also uponthe fire to enjoy its aromatic perfume. For the first day or two, at their new abode, the travellers had livedaltogether on fish. They had, of course, brought their net with themfrom the island, and had set it near the shore in the same way asbefore. They had captured as many as they wanted, and, strange to say, at one haul they found no less than five different species in the net!One kind, a white fish, the _Coregonus albus_ of naturalists, but whichis named "tittameg" by the fur-traders, they caught in great plenty. This fish is found in nearly all the lakes and rivers of the Hudson'sBay territory, and is much prized both by whites and Indians for itsdelicate flavour. At some of the trading posts it often forms, for weekstogether, the only food which the residents can obtain; and they arequite satisfied when they can get enough of it. The tittameg is not alarge fish; the largest attain to the weight of about eight pounds. There was another and still smaller species, which, from its colour, thevoyageurs call the "poisson bleu, " or blue fish. It is the _Coregonussignifer_ of ichthyologists. It is a species of grayling, and frequentssharp-running water, where it will leap at the fly like a trout. Severalkinds of trout also inhabit the Great Slave Lake, and some of theseattain to the enormous weight of eighty pounds! A few were caught, butnone of so gigantic proportions as this. Pike were also taken in thenet, and a species of burbot. This last is one of the most voracious ofthe finny tribe, and preys upon all others that it is able to swallow. It devours whole quantities of cray-fish, until its stomach becomescrammed to such a degree as to distort the shape of its whole body. Whenthis kind was drawn out, it was treated very rudely by the boys--becauseits flesh was known to be extremely unsavoury, and none of them cared toeat it. Marengo, however, had no such scruples, and he was wont to makeseveral hearty meals each day upon the rejected burbot. A fish diet exclusively was not the thing; and as our party soon grewtired of it, the hunter Basil shouldered his rifle, and strode off intothe woods in search of game. The others remained working upon the cabin, which was still far from being finished. Basil kept along the edge of the lake in an easterly direction. He hadnot gone more than a quarter of a mile, when he came upon a dry gravellyridge, which was thickly covered with a species of pine-trees thatresembled the Scotch fir. These trees were not over forty feet inheight, with very thick trunks and long flexible branches. No othertrees grew among them, for it is the nature of this pine--which was the"scrub" or grey pine--to monopolise the ground wherever it grows. AsBasil passed on, he noticed that many of the trees were completely"barked, " particularly on the branches; and small pieces of the bark layscattered over the ground, as though it had been peeled off and gnawedby some animal. He was walking quietly on and thinking what creaturecould have made such a wreck, when he came to a place where the groundwas covered with fine sand or dust. In this, to his astonishment, he observed what he supposed to be thetracks of human feet! They were not those of a man, but small tracks, resembling the footsteps of a child of three or four years of age. Hewas about stooping down to examine them more closely, when a voicesounded in his ears exactly like the cry of a child! This brought himsuddenly to an erect attitude again, and he looked all round to discoverwho or what had uttered that strange cry. He could see no one--child orman--and strange, too, for he had a clear view through the tree-trunksfor several hundred yards around. He was filled with curiosity, notunmixed with alarm; and, stepping forward a few paces, he was about tobend down and examine the tracks a second time, when the singular cryagain startled him. This time it was louder than before, as if he was closer to whatever haduttered it, but Basil now perceived that it proceeded from above him. The creature from which it came was certainly not upon the ground, buthigh up among the tops of the trees. He looked up, and there, in thefork of one of the pines, he perceived a singular and hideous-lookinganimal--such as he had never before seen. It was of a brown colour, about the size of a terrier-dog, with thick shaggy hair, and clumped upin the fork of the tree--so that its head and feet were scarcelydistinguishable. Its odd appearance, as well as the peculiar cry which it had uttered, would have alarmed many a one of less courage than our young hunter, andBasil was at first, as he afterwards confessed, "slightly flurried;" buta moment's reflection told him what the animal was--one of the mostinnocent and inoffensive of God's creatures--the Canada porcupine. Itwas this, then, that had barked the scrub pines--for they are itsfavourite food; and it was its track--which in reality very muchresembles that of a child--that Basil had seen in the sand. The first thought of the young hunter was to throw up his rifle, andsend a bullet through the ungainly animal; which, instead of making anyeffort to escape, remained almost motionless, uttering, at intervals, its child-like screams. Basil, however, reflected that the report of hisrifle would frighten any large game that might chance to be near; and asthe porcupine was hardly worth a shot, he concluded, upon reflection, itwould be better to leave it alone. He knew--for he had heard Lucien sayso--that he would find the porcupine at any time, were it a week, oreven a month after--for these creatures remain sometimes a whole winterin the same grove. He resolved, therefore, should no other game turn up, to return for it; and, shouldering his rifle again, he continued hiscourse through the woods. As he proceeded, the timber became thinner. The scrub-pines gave placeto poplar-trees, with here and there an undergrowth of willows. Thetrees stood far apart, and the willows grew only in clumps or "islands, "so that the view was nearly open for many hundred yards around. Basilwalked on with all the silence and watchfulness of a true "still"hunter--for, among backwoodsmen, this species of hunting is so called. He ascended a low hill, and keeping a tree in front of him, lookedcautiously over its crest. Before him, and stretching from the bottom ofthe hill, was a level tract of considerable extent. It was bounded on one side by the edge of the lake, and on all theothers by thin woods, similar to those through which the hunter had beenfor some time travelling. Here and there, over the plain, there stoodtrees, far apart from each other, and in nowise intercepting the viewfor a mile or more. The ground was clear of underwood, except along theimmediate edge of the lake, which was fringed by a thicket of willows. As Basil looked over the hill, he espied a small group of animals nearthe interior border of the willows. He had never seen animals of thesame species before, but the genus was easily told. The tall antleredhorns, that rose upon the head of one of them, showed that they weredeer of some kind; and the immense size of the creature that bore them, together with his ungainly form, his long legs, and ass-like ears, hishuge head with its overhanging lip, his short neck with its standingmane, and, above all, the broad palmation of the horns themselves, leftBasil without any doubt upon his mind that the animals before him weremoose-deer--the largest, and perhaps the most awkward, of all the deerkind. The one with the antlers was the male or bull-moose. The others were thefemale and her two calves of the preceding year. The latter were stillbut half-grown, and, like the female, were without the "branching horns"that adorned the head of the old bull. They were all of a dark-browncolour--looking blackish in the distance--but the large one was darkerthan any of the others. Basil's heart beat high, for he had often heard of the great moose, butnow saw it for the first time. In his own country it is not found, as itis peculiarly a creature of the cold regions, and ranges no farther tothe south than the northern edge of the United States territory. To thenorth it is met with as far as timber grows--even to the shores of thePolar Sea! Naturalists are not certain, whether or not it be the sameanimal with the elk of Europe. Certainly the two are but little, ifanything, different; but the name "elk" has been given in America toquite another and smaller species of deer--the wapiti. The moose takes its name from its Indian appellation, "moosöa, " or"wood-eater;" and this name is very appropriate, as the animal livesmostly upon the leaves and twigs of trees. In fact, its structure--likethat of the camelopard--is such that it finds great difficulty inreaching grass, or any other herbage, except where the latter chances tobe very tall, or grows upon the declivity of a very steep hill. When itwishes to feed upon grass, the moose usually seeks it in suchsituations; and it may often be seen browsing up the side of a hill, with its legs spread widely on both sides of its neck. But its favouritefood is found at a more convenient height, and consists of the youngshoots of many species of trees. It prefers those of the poplar, thebirch-tree, and willows, and one kind of these last, the red willow, isits particular favourite. The "striped" maple is also much relished by the moose--hence the name"moose-wood, " by which this tree is known among the hunters. It lovesalso the common water-lilies, and in summer it may be seen wading outinto lakes, and plucking up their succulent leaves. It takes to thewater also for other purposes--to cool its body, and rid itself ofseveral species of gnats and mosquitoes that at this season torment itexceedingly. At such times it is more easily approached; and the Indianshunt it in their canoes, and kill it in the water, both with spears andarrows. They never find the moose, however, in large numbers--for it isa solitary animal, and only associates in pairs during one part of theyear, and in families at another season--as Basil now found it. In winter the Indians track it through the snow, following it uponsnow-shoes. These give them the advantage of skimming along the surface, while the moose plunges through the deep rift, and is therefore impededin its flight. Notwithstanding, it will frequently escape from thehunter, after a _chase of several days' duration_! Sometimes, in deepsnow, a dozen or more of these animals will be found in one place, wherethey have got accidentally together. The snow will be trodden down untilthe place appears as if enclosed by a wall. This the hunters term a"moose-pound, " and when found in such situations the moose are easilyapproached and surrounded--when a general _battue_ takes place, in whichfew or none of the animals are allowed to escape. I have said that Basil's heart beat high at the sight of the moose. Hewas very desirous of killing one--partly on account of the novelty ofthe thing, and partly because he and his companions at the camp wereanxious for a change of diet. Moose-meat was the very thing; and he knewthat if he could return to camp with a few pieces of this strung overhis gun, he would receive a double welcome. He was well aware that theflesh of the moose was of the most savoury and delicate kind, and thatthe long pendulous upper lip is one of the "tit-bits" of the furcountries. Moreover, the fine hide would be an acceptable addition totheir stock, as it is the best of all deer-skins for mocassins, as wellas snow-shoes--articles which Basil knew would soon be needed. For thesereasons he was unusually desirous of killing one of the moose. He knew it would be difficult to approach them. He had heard that theywere shyest at that very season--the beginning of winter--and indeedsuch is the case. No deer is so difficult to get a shot at as a moose inearly winter. In summer it is not so--as then the musquitoes tormentthese animals to such a degree that they pay less heed to other enemies, and the hunter can more easily approach them. In winter they are alwayson the alert. Their sense of smell--as well as of sight and hearing--isacute to an extreme degree, and they are cunning besides. They can scentan enemy a long distance off--if the wind be in their favour--and thesnapping of a twig, or the slightest rustle of the leaves, is sufficientto start them off. In their journeyings through the snow, when they wish to restthemselves, they make a sort of _détour_, and, coming back, lie downnear the track which they have already passed over. This gives them anopportunity of hearing any enemy that may be following upon theirtrail, and also of making off in a side-direction, while the latter willbe looking steadfastly ahead for them. Basil had heard of all these tricks of the moose--for many an oldmoose-hunter had poured his tale into Basil's ear. He proceeded, therefore, with all due caution. He first buried his hand in hisgame-bag, and after a little groping brought out a downy feather whichhad chanced to be there. This he placed lightly upon the muzzle of hisrifle, and having gently elevated the piece above his head, watched thefeather. After a moment, the breeze carried it off, and Basil noted thedirection it took. This is called, in hunter phrase, "tossing thefeather, " and gave Basil the exact direction of the wind--an importantknowledge in the present case. To Basil's gratification he saw that it was blowing down the lake, andnearly towards himself. He was not exactly to leeward of the moose; but, what was better still, the willows that fringed the lake were, for hecould see them bending from the deer, as the breeze blew freshly. Heknew he could easily get among the willows; and as they were not quiteleafless, and, moreover, were interspersed with tall reed grass, theyformed a tolerable cover under which he might make his approach. Without losing time, then, he made for the willows, and placing thembetween himself and the game, commenced "approaching" along the shore ofthe lake. He had a full half-hour's creeping--at one time upon his hands andknees--at another crawling flat upon his breast like a gigantic lizard, and now and then, at favourable spots, walking in a bent attitude. Afull half-hour was he, and much pain and patience did it cost him, before getting within shot. But Basil was a hunter, and knew both how toendure the pain and practise the patience--virtues that, in hunting aswell as in many other occupations usually meet with their reward. AndBasil was likely to meet with his, for on parting the leaves, andlooking cautiously through, he saw that he had arrived at the rightspot. Within fifty yards of him he saw the high shoulders of thebull-moose and his great flat antlers towering over the tops of thewillows, among the leaves of which the snout of the animal was buried. He also caught a glimpse of parts of the other three beyond; but hethought only of the bull, and it was upon him that he kept his eyesfixed. Basil did not think of the quality of the meat, else he wouldhave selected either the cow or one of the calves. Had it been buffaloeshe would certainly have done so; but as he had never killed a moose, hewas determined to slay the leader of the herd. Indeed, had he wished to shoot one of the others, it might not have beenso easy, as they were farther off, and he could only see the tops oftheir shoulders over the willows. Neither did the bull offer a fairmark. He stood face to face with the hunter, and Basil fancied that ashot on the frontal bone might not kill him. He knew it would not kill abuffalo. There was only one other part at which he could aim--thefore-shoulder; and after waiting some moments for the animal to give hima fairer chance he took aim at this and fired. He heard a loud crackingof hoofs, as the cow and calves shambled off over the plain, but he sawthat the bull was not with them. He was down behind the willows. Nodoubt he was dead. CHAPTER XXV. ENCOUNTER WITH A MOOSE. What was a rare thing for Basil to do, he rushed forward withoutreloading his gun. A few springs brought him into the open ground, andin presence of the game. To his astonishment, the bull was not dead, nordown neither, but only upon his knees--of course wounded. Basil saw the"crease" of the bullet along the neck of the animal as he drew near. Itwas only by a quick glance that he saw this, for as soon as the bull saw_him_ he rose to his full height--his eyes flashing like a tiger's--andsettling his antlers in a forward position, sprang upon the hunter!Basil leaped aside to avoid the encounter; and in the first rush wassuccessful, but the animal turned suddenly, and, coming up a secondtime, raised his fore-feet high in the air, and struck forward with hislong-pointed hoofs. Basil attempted to defend himself with his rifle, but the piece wasstruck out of his hand in an instant. Once more avoiding the forwardrush of the infuriated beast, the young hunter looked around for someobject to save him. A tree fell under his eye, and he ran towards itwith all his speed. The moose followed close upon his heels, and he hadjust time to reach the tree and get around its trunk, when the animalbrushed past, tearing the bark with his sharp antlers. Basil now slippedround the trunk, and when the moose again turned himself the two were onopposite sides of the tree! The beast, however, rushed up, and struckthe tree furiously first with his brow antlers, and then with his hoofs, uttering loud snorts, and at intervals a shrill whistling sound that wasterrible to hear. The disappointment which the enraged animal felt, at seeing his enemythus escape him, seemed to have added to his rage; and he now vented hisspite upon the tree, until the trunk, to the height of six feet, wascompletely stripped of its bark. While this was going on, Basil remainedbehind the tree, "dodging" round as the moose manoeuvred, and taking carealways to have the animal on the opposite side. To have got into a safersituation he would have climbed the tree; but it happened to be apoplar, without a branch for many feet from the ground, and of too greata girth to be "embraced. " He could do nothing, therefore, but remainupon the ground, and keep the tree-trunk between himself and the bull. For nearly an hour this lasted, the moose now remaining at rest for afew minutes, and then making fresh onsets that seemed to abate nothingin their fury. His rage appeared to be implacable, and his vengeance astenacious as that of a tiger or any other beast of prey. The wound whichthe hunter had given him was no doubt painful, and kept his resentmentfrom cooling. Unfortunately, it was not a mortal wound, as Basil hadevery opportunity of seeing. The bullet had hit the fore-shoulder; but, after tearing along the skin, had glanced off without injuring the bone. It had only enraged the bull, without crippling him in the least degree. Basil began to dread the result. He was becoming faint with fatigue aswell as hunger. When would he be relieved? When would the fierce brutefeel inclined to leave him? These were questions which the hunter put tohimself repeatedly, without being able to divine an answer. He had heardof hunters being killed by wounded moose. He had heard that thesecreatures will remain for days watching a person whom they may have"treed. " He could not stand it for days. He would drop down withfatigue, and then the bull would gore and trample him at pleasure. Wouldthey be able to trace him from the camp? They would not think of thatbefore nightfall. They would not think of him as "lost" before thattime; and then they could not follow his trail in the darkness, nor evenin the light--for the ground was hard as a rock, and he had made nofootmarks. Marengo might trace him. The dog had been left at the camp, as Basil preferred "still-hunting" without him. But in his presentsituation the hunter's apprehensions were stronger than his hopes. EvenMarengo might be baffled in lifting the scent. The trail was an exceedingly devious one, for Basil had meandered roundthe sides of the hill in search of game. Deer or other animals mighthave since crossed it, which might mislead the hound. It would be coldat night, and much colder next morning. There were many chances that norelief might reach him from the camp. Impressed with this conviction, Basil began to feel serious alarm. Not despair, however--he was not theboy to despair. His mind only grew more alive to the necessity foraction. He looked around to discover some means of escape. His gun laynot a hundred yards off. Could he only get hold of the piece, and returnsafely to the tree again, he could there load it and put an end to thescene at once. But to reach the gun was impossible. The moose wouldbound after and overtake him to a certainty. The idea of getting the gunwas abandoned. In the opposite direction to that in which the gun lay, Basil perceivedthat there were other trees. The nearest was but a dozen yards from him;and others, again, grew at about the same distance from that one, andfrom each other. Basil now conceived the idea of escaping to thenearest, and from that to the next, and by this means getting back intothe thick forest. Once there, he believed that he would be the betterable to effect his escape, and perhaps reach the camp by dodging fromtree to tree. He could beat the moose for a dozen yards--getting alittle the start of him--and this he hoped to be able to do. Should hefail in his short race, however--should his foot slip--the alternativewas fearful. _It was no other than death!_ He knew that, but it did not change his resolution to make the attempt. He only waited for the animal to work round between him and the treetowards which he intended to run. You will wonder that he did not preferto have the moose on the other side. But he did not, for thisreason--had the bull been there, he could have sprung after him at thefirst start; whereas, when heading the other way, Basil believed hecould brush close past, and gain an advantage, as the unwieldy brute, taken by surprise, would require some time in turning himself to givechase. The opportunity at length arrived; and, nerving himself for the race, the hunter sprang past the moose, brushing the very tips of its antlers. He ran without either stopping or even looking back, until he hadreached the tree, and sheltered himself behind its trunk. The moose hadfollowed, and arrived but the moment after, snorting and whistlingfuriously. Enraged at the _ruse_, it attacked this tree, as it had theother, with hoof and horns; and Basil nimbly evaded both by keeping onthe opposite side, as before. In a few minutes he prepared himself for a second rush, and once morestarted. A third tree was reached in safety--and then a fourth, and afifth, and many others, in a similar manner--the moose all the whilefollowing in hot pursuit. Basil had begun to hope that in this way hewould get off, when, to his chagrin, he saw that an open space stillintervened between him and the thick woods, upon which there were only afew trees, and those so small that not one of them would have shelteredhim. This tract was full two hundred yards in width, and extended allalong the edge of the thick forest. He dared not cross it. The moosewould overtake him before he could get half the way; and he was obligedto give up the idea of making the attempt. As he stood behind the last tree he had reached, he saw that itbranched, and the lowest branches grew but a little above his head. Hecould easily climb it, and at once resolved to do so. He would there besafe for the time, and could at least rest himself, for he was now weakwith fatigue. He therefore stretched up his hands, and, laying hold of abranch, swung himself up into the tree. Then, climbing up a littlehigher, he sat down on one of the forks. The moose appeared as furious as ever; and ran round the tree, nowstriking it with his horns, and then rearing upon his hind-legs, andpouncing against the trunk with his hoofs. At times his snout was soclose to Basil, that the latter could almost touch it; and he had evendrawn his hunting-knife, and reached down with the intent of giving thecreature a stab. This last action led to a train of thought, and Basil seemed suddenly toadopt some new resolution. Leaving the fork where he had perchedhimself, he climbed higher up the tree; and, selecting one of thelongest and straightest branches, commenced cutting it off close to thetrunk. This was soon effected; and then, drawing it along his knee, hetrimmed off all the twigs and tops until the branch became a straightpole, like a spear-handle. Along one end of this he laid the handle ofhis knife; and with thongs, which he had already cut out of the strap ofhis bullet-pouch, he spliced the knife and pole together. This gave hima formidable weapon--for the knife was a "bowie, " and had a long blade, with a point like a rapier. He was not slow in using it. Descending again to the lowermost limbs, he commenced makingdemonstrations, in order to bring the moose within reach. This he verysoon succeeded in doing; and the animal ran forward and reared upagainst the tree. Before it could get upon its four legs again, Basilhad thrust it in the neck, giving full force to the blow. The bloodrushed forth in a thick stream, as the jugular vein had been cut by thekeen blade; and the huge brute was seen to totter in its steps, and thenfall with a dull heavy sound to the earth. In a few moments the hunterhad the satisfaction of perceiving that it was quite dead. Basil now dropped out of the tree, and walking back to where his riflelay, took up the piece and carefully reloaded it. He then returned tothe moose, and opening the great jaws of the animal, gagged them with astick. He next unspliced his knife, took off the gristly lips, and cutout the tongue. These he placed in his game-bag, and shouldering hisrifle, was about to depart; when some new idea caused him to halt, putdown his gun, and again unsheath his knife. Once more approaching thecarcass, he made an incision near the kidneys; and having inserted hishand, drew forth what appeared to be a part of the intestines. It wasthe bladder. He then looked around as if in search of something. Presently his eye rested upon some tall reed-grass that was growingnear. This was just what he wanted, and, pulling up one of the stems, hecut and fashioned it into a pipe. [Illustration: BASIL AND THE MOOSE BULL. ] With this the moose-bladder was blown out to its full dimensions, andtied at the neck by a piece of thong. The other end of the thong wasfastened to one of the branches of the tree above, so that the bladderdangled within a few feet of the carcass of the moose, dancing aboutwith the lightest breath of wind. All these precautions Basil had takento keep the wolves from devouring the moose--for it was his intention toreturn and butcher it, as soon as he could get help. When he had hungthe bladder to his liking, he put up his knife again; and, once moreshouldering his rifle, walked off. On reaching the camp--which he did shortly after--the tongue of themoose was broiled without delay, and, after making a delicious meal ofit, the whole party went off for the remainder of the meat. They foundit all quite safe; although, had it not been for the bladder, not muchof it would have been there--as no less than a dozen great gaunt wolveswere seen lurking about, and these would have eaten it up in theshortest possible time. The bladder, however, had kept them off; for, strange to say, these creatures, who are as cunning as foxes, and canhardly be trapped, can yet be deceived and frightened by such a simplething as a bladder dangling from a branch. The moose proved to be one of the largest of his kind. His height wasquite equal to that of a horse; and his horns, flattened out to thebreadth of shovels, weighed over sixty pounds. His carcass was not lessthan fifteen hundred pounds weight; and our voyageurs had to make twojourneys to convey the meat to their camp. On the last journey, Françoisbrought the porcupine as well--having found it on the very same treewhere Basil had left it! CHAPTER XXVI. LIFE IN A LOG-HUT. The log-hut was finished on the 1st of September, and not a day toosoon; for on that very day the winter set in with full severity. A heavyfall of snow came down in the night; and next morning, when ourvoyageurs looked abroad, the ground was covered to the depth of a foot, or more; and the ice upon the lake was also white. Walking through thegreat wreaths now became very difficult; and the next thing to be donewas the making of "snow-shoes. " Snow-shoes are an invention of the Indians; and, in the winter of theArctic regions of America, are an article almost as indispensable asclothing itself. Without them, travelling afoot would be impossible. Inthese countries, as already stated, the snow often covers the ground tothe depth of many feet; and remains without any considerable diminutionfor six, and, in some years, eight or nine months. At times, it isfrozen hard enough on the surface to bear a man without the snow-shoes;but oftener on account of thaws and fresh falls, it becomes quite soft, and at such times travelling over it is both difficult and dangerous. Toavoid both the difficulty and the danger, the Indians make use of thisvery singular sort of foot-wear--called "snow-shoes" by the English, and"raquets" by the Canadian voyageurs. They are used by all the Indian tribes of the Hudson's Bay territory;and were it not for them these people would be confined to one place formonths together, and could not follow the deer or other game. As almostall savages are improvident, and none more so than the North AmericanIndians, were they prevented for a season from going out to hunt, wholetribes would starve. Indeed, many individuals of them perish with hungeras it is; and the life of all these Indians is nothing more than onecontinued struggle for food enough to sustain them. In summer they areoften in the midst of plenty; slaughtering deer and buffalo by hundreds, taking out only the tongues, and recklessly leaving the flesh to thewolves! In winter the very same Indians may be seen without a pound ofmeat in their encampment--the lives of themselves and their familiesdepending upon the success of a single day's hunt! But let us return to the snow-shoes. Let us see what they are, and learnhow they are made. Any boy who has snared sparrows in snow-time, has, no doubt, done so bytying his snares upon a hoop netted across with twine or other smallcord. Now, if he will conceive his hoop bent into an oblongshape--something like what the figure of a boat turned on its mouthwould make in snow--and if he will also fancy the netting to consist ofthongs of twisted deer-hide woven somewhat closely together, he will geta very good idea of an Indian snow-shoe. It is usually from three tofour feet long, by about a foot wide at the middle part, from which ittapers gently to a point, both at the heel and toe. The frame, as I have said, is like the hoop of a boy's bird-snare. It ismade of light, tough wood, and, of course, carefully bent and polishedwith the knife. The slender branches of the "scrub-pine" are esteemedexcellent for this purpose, as their wood is light, flexible and toughin its fibres. This is also a favourite tree, where it grows, to maketent-poles, canoe-timbers, and other implements required by the Indians;and these people use so much of it for their arrows, that it hasreceived from the Canadian voyageurs the name of _bois de flêche_(arrow-wood). Well, then, the frame of the snow-shoes being bent to its proper shape, two transverse bars are placed across near the middle, and severalinches from each other. They are for the foot to rest upon, as well asto give strength to the whole structure. These being made fast, thenetting is woven on, and extends over the whole frame, with theexception of a little space in front of the bars where the ball of thefoot is to rest. This space is left free of netting, in order to allowplay to the toes while walking. The mesh-work is made of thongs usuallycut from the parchment-skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twistedintestines are used, and the netting exactly resembles that seen in"racquets" for ball play. The snow-shoe, when finished, is simply fastened upon the foot by meansof straps or thongs; and a pair of them thus placed, will present asurface to the snow of nearly six square feet--more, if required, bymaking them larger. But this is enough to sustain the heaviest man uponthe softest snow, and an Indian thus "shod" will skim over the surfacelike a skater. The shoes used by all tribes of Indians are not alike in shape. Thereare fashions and fancies in this respect. Some are made--as among theChippewa Indians--with one side of the frame nearly straight; and these, of course, will not do for either foot, but are "rights and lefts. "Generally, however, the shape is such that the snow-shoe will fit eitherfoot. The snow-shoes having now become a necessary thing, our young voyageursset about making a complete set for the whole party--that is, no lessthan four pairs. Norman was the "shoemaker, " and Norman knew how. Hecould splice the frames, and work in the netting, equal to an Indiansquaw. Of course all the others assisted him. Lucien cut the moose-skininto fine regular strips; Basil waded off through the snow, and procuredthe frames from the wood of the scrub-pine trees where he hadencountered the porcupine; and then he and François trimmed them withtheir knives, and sweated them in the hot ashes until they became dry, and ready for the hands of the "shoemaker. " This work occupied them several days, and then each had a pair of shoesfitted to his size and weight. The next consideration was, to lay in a stock of meat. The moose hadfurnished them with enough for present use, but that would not lastlong, as there was no bread nor anything else to eat with it. Persons intheir situation require a great deal of meat to sustain them, much morethan those who live in great cities, who eat a variety of substances, and drink many kinds of drinks. The healthy voyageur is rarely without akeen appetite; and meat by itself is a food that speedily digests, andmakes way for a fresh meal; so that the ration usually allowed to the_employés_ of the fur companies would appear large enough to supply thetable of several families. For instance, in some parts of the Hudson'sBay territory, the voyageur is allowed eight pounds of buffalo-meat _perdiem_! And yet it is all eaten by him, and sometimes deemed barelysufficient. A single deer, therefore, or even a buffalo, lasts a party of voyageursfor a very short time, since they have no other substance, such as breador vegetables, to help it out. It was necessary, then, that ourtravellers should use all their diligence in laying up a stock of driedmeat, before the winter became too cold for them to hunt. There wasanother consideration--their clothing. They all had clothing sufficientfor such weather as they had yet experienced; but that would never dofor the winter of the Great Slave Lake, and they knew it. Many deer mustbe killed, and many hides dressed, before they could make a full set ofclothing for all, as well as a set of deer-skin blankets, which would bemuch needed. As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, therefore, Basil and Normanwent out each day upon long hunting expeditions, from which they rarelyreturned before nightfall. Sometimes they brought with them a deer, ofthe caribou or reindeer species, and the "woodland" variety, which werein plenty at this place. They only carried to camp the best parts withthe skin, as the flesh of the woodland caribou is not much esteemed. Itis larger than the other kind--the "Barren Ground caribou, " weighingabout one hundred and fifty pounds; but both its venison and hide are ofinferior quality to those of the latter species. Sometimes our hunterskilled smaller game; and on several occasions they returned withouthaving emptied their guns at all. But there was one day that made up for several--one grand day when theywere extremely successful, and on which they killed a whole herd ofmoose, consisting of five individuals--the old bull, a spike buck--thatis, a young buck, whose horns had not yet got antlers upon them--thecow, and two calves. These they had tracked and followed for a longdistance, and had succeeded, at length, in running them into a valleywhere the snow was exceedingly deep, and where the moose becameentangled. There had been a shower of rain the day before that hadmelted the surface of the snow; and this had again frozen into an icycrust, upon which the deer lacerated their ankles at every plunge, leaving a track of blood behind them as they ran. Under these circumstances they were easily trailed, and Basil andNorman, skimming along upon their snow-shoes, soon came up with them, and shot first one and then another, until the whole herd were stretchedin the valley. They then butchered them, and hung the hides and quartersupon high branches, so as to secure them from wolves and wolverenes. When the job was finished, the whole place looked like a greatslaughter-yard! Next day a rude sledge was constructed; and thevoyageurs, returning in full force, transported the meat to camp. Hugefires were kindled outside the hut, and several days were spent incutting up and drying the flesh. Had our travellers been certain thatthe frost would have continued all winter, this would not have beennecessary--since the meat was already frozen as hard as a brick. But they knew that a sudden thaw would spoil it; and, as there wasplenty of good firewood on the spot, they were not going to run the riskof losing it in that way. They had now enough provision to last them for months; and huntingbecame no longer necessary, except to obtain fresh meat--which was, ofcourse, preferable to the dry stock. Hunting, also, gave them exerciseand amusement--both of which were necessary to their health; for toremain idle and inactive in a situation such as that in which they wereplaced is the worst possible plan, and is sure to engender both sicknessand _ennui_. Indeed, the last grew upon them, notwithstanding all thepains they took to prevent it. There were days on which the cold was soextreme, that they could not put their noses out of the door without thedanger of having them frost-bitten--although each had now a completesuit of deer-skin clothing, made by Lucien, the "tailor" of the party. Upon such days they were fain to remain shut up in their hut; and, seated around their huge log-fire, they passed the time in cleaningtheir guns, mending their nets, stitching their clothes, and such-likeemployments. These days were far from being their dullest; for, whatwith the varied and scientific knowledge of Lucien, which he tookpleasure in imparting to his companions--what with the practicalexperience of Norman amid scenes of Arctic life, and the many "voyageurtales" he could tell--what with François merry jokes and _bon mots_--andwhat with Basil's _talent for listening_--not the least importantelement in a good _conversazione_, --our _quartette_ of young voyageursfound their indoor days anything but dull. This was all well enough for a while. For a month or two they bore theirodd kind of life cheerfully enough; but the prospect of nearly sixmonths more of it began to appal them, when they reflected upon it; andthey soon found themselves longing for a change. Hunting adventures, that at other times would have interested them, now occurred withoutcreating any excitement; and the whole routine of their employmentsseemed monotonous. Nearly all of them were boys of an active characterof mind; and most of them were old enough to reason about the value oftime. Their idea of such a long isolation from civilized life, and, above all, the being debarred from following any useful pursuit, beganto impress some of them forcibly. Others, as François, could not becontented for a very great stretch of time with any sort of life; sothat all of them began to sigh for a change. One day, while conversing upon this theme, a bold proposal was made byBasil. It was, that they should "strike camp, " and continue theirjourney. This proposal took the others by surprise, but they were alljust in the frame of mind to entertain and discuss it; and a longconsultation was held upon the point. François chimed in with theproposal at once; while Lucien, more cautious, did not exactly oppose, but rather offered the reasons that were against it, and pointed out theperils of the undertaking. Norman, of course, was appealed to--all ofthem looking to him as one whose advice, upon that question at least, was more valuable than their own. Norman admitted the dangers pointed out by Lucien, but believed thatthey might overcome them by a proper caution. On the whole, Normanapproved of the plan, and it was at length adopted. Perhaps Norman'shabitual prudence was to some extent influenced on this occasion by thevery natural desire he had of returning to what he considered his home. He had now been absent nearly two years, and was desirous of once moreseeing his father and his old companions at the Fort. There was another feeling that influenced nearly all of them: that was_ambition_. They knew that to make such a journey would be something ofa feat, and they wished to have the credit of performing it. To mindslike that of Basil, even the danger had something attractive in it. Itwas resolved then to break up the encampment, and continue theirjourney. CHAPTER XXVII. TRAVELLING ON SNOW-SHOES. Once their resolution was taken, they lost but little time in makingpreparations to carry it out. Most of the articles required for such ajourney were already in their hands. They had the properdresses--snow-shoes, skin-blankets, and gloves. They had prepared forthemselves sets of "snow spectacles. " These were made out of redcedar-wood. Each pair consisted of two small thin pieces, that coveredthe eyes, joined together and fastened on by thongs of buckskin. In eachpiece an oblong slit served for the eye-hole, through which the eyelooked without being dazzled by the snow. Without this, or some likecontrivance, travelling in the Arctic regions is painful to the eyes, and the traveller often loses his sight. Indeed, one of the most commoninfirmities of both the Indians and Esquimaux of these parts isblindness or soreness of the eyes, caused by the reflexion of thesunbeams from the crystals of the frozen snow. Norman was aware of this, and had made the spectacles to guard against this peril. Out of their spare skins they had made a small tent. This was to becarried along by Marengo in a light sledge, which they had long sinceconstructed, and taught the dog to draw. Nothing else remained but topack their provisions in the smallest bulk possible, and this was done, according to the custom of the country, by making "pemmican. " The drymeat was first pounded until it became a powder; it was then put intosmall skin bags, made for the purpose, and the hot melted fat was pouredin and well mixed with it. This soon froze hard, and the mixture--thatresembled "potted meat, "--was now ready for use, and would keep for anindefinite time without the least danger of spoiling. Buffalo-beef, moose-meat, or venison of any sort, thus prepared, is called"_pemmican_, " and is more portable in this shape than any other. Besidesno further cooking is required--an important consideration upon thosevast prairie deserts, where firewood is seldom to be procured withoutthe trouble of carrying it a great distance. Norman, who was the maker of the pemmican, had produced a superiorarticle upon this occasion. Besides the pounded meat and fat, he hadmixed another ingredient with it, which rendered it a most deliciousfood. This third ingredient was a small purple-coloured berry--of whichwe have already spoken--not unlike the whortleberry, but sweeter and ofa higher flavour. It grows through most of the Northern regions ofAmerica; and in some places, as upon the Red River and the Elk, thebushes that produce it are seen in great plenty. Previous to the setting in of winter, our voyageurs had collected alarge bagful upon the banks of the Elk, which they had dried and storedaway--expecting to stand in need of them for this very purpose. They nowcame into use, and enabled Norman to make his pemmican of the verychoicest quality. Five bags of it were put up, each weighing over thirtypounds. One of these was to be drawn upon the sledge, along with thetent, the axe, and a few other articles. The rest were to be carried bythe voyageurs themselves--each shouldering one, which, along with theirguns and accoutrements, would be load enough. These arrangements being at length complete, the party bid adieu totheir log-hut--gave a parting look to their little canoe, which stillrested by the door--and then, shouldering their guns and bags ofpemmican, set out over the frozen surface of the snow. Of course before starting they had decided upon the route they were totake. This decision, however, had not been arrived at until after muchdiscussion. Lucien advised that they should follow the shore of the lakeuntil they should reach the Mackenzie River--which of course was nowfrozen up. Its channel, he argued, would then guide them; and, in casetheir provisions should run short, they would be more likely to findgame upon its banks than elsewhere, as these were wooded almost to thesea--in consequence of its head-waters rising in southern latitudes, andcarrying with them a warmer climate. There was plausibility in Lucien's argument, combined with muchprudence. Norman, however, advised a contrary course. He said that theywould have to make a considerable journey westward before reaching theplace where the Mackenzie River flows out of the lake; and, moreover, heknew that the river itself was very crooked--in some places windingabout in great curves, whose ends come near meeting each other. Shouldthey keep the course of the river, Norman believed it would almostdouble their journey. A much shorter route, he said, would be obtainedby striking across the country in a north-westerly direction, so as toreach the Mackenzie near where another great stream--the River of theMountains--empties into it from the west. This would certainly be a moredirect route, and they would avoid the windings of the river channel. Norman's reasoning prevailed. Basil and François readily agreed to hisplan, and Lucien at length also gave his assent, but with somereluctance. Norman knew nothing whatever of the route he was advisingthem to take. His former journeys up and down the Mackenzie had beenmade in summer, and of course he had travelled by canoe, in company withthe traders and voyageurs. He only knew that to strike across thecountry would be the shorter way. But "the shortest way is not alwaysthe nearest, " says the proverb; and although Lucien remembered thisprudent maxim, the others did not give it a thought. Before the end oftheir journey they received a practical lesson of its wisdom--a lessonthey were not likely to forget. But they knew not what was before them, and they started off in high spirits. Their first three or four days' journeys were without any event worthbeing chronicled. They travelled full twenty miles each day. TheSoutherners had become quite skilful in the management of theirsnow-shoes, and they skimmed along upon the icy crust at the rate ofthree or four miles an hour. Marengo and his sledge gave them very little trouble. There was fullsixty pounds weight upon it; but to the huge dog this was a merebagatelle, and he pulled it after him without any great strain. Hisharness was neatly made of moose-skin, and consisted of a collar with aback strap and traces--the traces meeting behind, where they wereattached to the head of the sledge. No head-gear was necessary, asMarengo needed not to be either led or driven. The sledge consisted oftwo or three light planks of smooth wood, laid alongside each other, andheld together by transverse bands. In front it turned up with a circularsweep, so as not to "plough" the snow; and at the top of this curvedpart the traces were adjusted. The load was, of course, carefully packedand tied, so that the overturning of the vehicle did no damage whatever, and it could be easily righted again. Marengo required no one to guidehim, but followed quietly in the tracks of the snow-shoes, and thusavoided the trees, rocks, and other inequalities. If a rabbit or othercreature started up, Marengo knew better than to go galloping after it;he felt that he had a more important duty to perform than to throw awayhis time upon rabbit-hunting. Each night a spot was chosen for the camp by the side of some lake orstream, where wood could be obtained for their fire. Water was got bybreaking a hole in the ice, and the little tent was always set up in asheltered situation. Upon the fifth day after leaving the log-hut the woods began to grownthinner and more straggling; and towards night of the same day theyfound themselves travelling through a country, where the timber onlygrew here and there in small clumps, and the individual trees were smalland stunted. Next day still less timber was seen upon their route; andwhen camping-time came, they were obliged to halt at a spot wherenothing but willows could be procured for their fire. They had, in fact, arrived upon the edge of that vast wilderness, the Barren Grounds, whichstretches in all its wild desolation along the Northern half of theAmerican continent from the Great Slave Lake even to the shores of theArctic Sea on the north, and to those of Hudson's Bay on the east. This territory bears an appropriate name, for, perhaps, upon the wholesurface of the earth there is no tract more barren or desolate--not eventhe Saära of Africa. Both are deserts of immense extent, equallydifficult to cross, and equally dangerous to the traveller. On both thetraveller often perishes, but from different causes. On the Saära it is_thirst_ that kills; upon the Barren Grounds _hunger_ is more frequentlythe destroyer. In the latter there is but little to be feared on thescore of water. That exists in great plenty; or where it is not found, snow supplies its place. But there is water everywhere. Hill succeedshill, bleak, rocky, and bare. Everywhere granite, gneiss, or otherprimitive rocks, show themselves. No vegetation covers the steep declivities of the hills, except the mossand lichen upon the rocks, a few willows upon the banks of streams, thedwarf birch-tree or the scrub-pines, rising only to the height of a fewinches, and often straggling over the earth like vines. Every hill hasits valley, and every valley its lake--dark, and deep, and silent--inwinter scarce to be distinguished under the snow-covered ice. Theprospect in every direction exhibits a surface of rocks, or bleak hills, half covered with snow. The traveller looks around and sees no life. Helistens and hears no sound. The world appears dead and wrapped in itscold winding-sheet! Amidst just such scenes did our voyageurs find themselves on the seventhday after parting from the lake. They had heard of the BarrenGrounds--had heard many fearful stories of the sufferings of travellerswho had attempted to cross them; but the description had fallen farshort of the actual reality. None of them could believe in thedifficulties to be encountered, and the desolateness of the scene theywere to witness, until now that they found themselves in its midst; and, as they proceeded on their journey, getting farther and farther from thewooded region, their apprehensions, already aroused by the wild aspectof the country, grew stronger and stronger. They began to entertainserious fears, for they knew not how far the barren tract extended alongtheir route. On calculation they found they had provisions enough to last them for amonth. That in some measure restored their confidence; but even then, they could not help giving way to serious reflections. Should they getlost or retarded in their course by mountains, or other obstacles, itmight take them longer than a month to reach some place where game wasto be met with. Each day, as they advanced, they found the country morehilly and difficult. Precipices often bounded the valleys, lyingdirectly across their track; and as these could not be scaled, it wasnecessary to make long _détours_ to pass them, so that some days theyactually advanced less than five miles upon their journey. Notwithstanding these impediments, they might still have got over theBarren Grounds without further suffering than the fatigue and necessaryexposure to cold; but at this time an incident occurred, that not onlyfrustrated all their calculations, but placed them in imminent danger ofperishing. CHAPTER XXVIII THE BARREN GROUNDS The Barren Grounds are not entirely destitute of animal life. Even inwinter--when they are almost covered with snow, and you would supposethat no living creature could procure subsistence upon them--even thenthey have their denizens; and, strange to say, there are many animalsthat choose them for their home. There is no part of the earth's surfaceso sterile but that some animated being can find a living upon it, andsuch a being Nature adapts to its peculiar situation. For instance, there are animals that prefer the very desert itself, and would notthrive were you to place them in a country of mild climate and fertilesoil. In our own species this peculiarity is also found--as theEsquimaux would not be happy were you to transplant him from his icy hutamid the snows of the Arctic regions, and give him a palace under thegenial skies of Italy. Among other creatures that remain all winter upon the Barren Grounds arethe wolves. How they exist there is almost a question of thenaturalists. It is true they prey upon other animals found at times inthe same district; but wolves have been met with where not the slightesttraces of other living creatures could be seen! There is no animal more generally distributed over the earth's surfacethan the wolf. He exists in nearly every country, and most likely has atone time existed in all. In America there are wolves in its three zones. They are met with from Cape Horn to the farthest point northward thatman has reached. They are common in the tropical forests of Mexico andSouth America. They range over the great prairies of the temperate zonesof both divisions of the continent, and in the colder regions of theHudson's Bay territory they are among the best known of wild animals. They frequent the mountains, they gallop over the plains, they skulkthrough the valleys, they dwell everywhere--everywhere the wolf seemsequally at home. In North America two very different kinds are known. One is the"prairie" or "barking" wolf, which we have already met with anddescribed. The other species is the "common" or "large" wolf; but it isnot decided among naturalists that there are not several distinctspecies of the latter. At all events, there are several _varieties_ ofit--distinguished from each other in size, colour, and even to someextent in form. The habits of all, however, appear to be similar, and itis a question, whether any of these varieties be _permanent_ or only_accidental_. Some of them, it is well known, are accidental--as wolvesdiffering in colour have been found in the same litter--but lateexplorers, of the countries around and beyond the Rocky Mountains, havediscovered one or two kinds that appear to be specifically distinct fromthe common wolf of America--one of them, the "dusky wolf, " being muchlarger. This last is said to resemble the wolf of Europe more than the otherAmerican wolves do--for there is a considerable difference between thewolves of the two continents. Those of the Northern regions of Americahave shorter ears, a broader snout and forehead, and are of a stoutermake, than the European wolves. Their fur, too, is finer, denser, andlonger; their tails more bushy and fox-like; and their feet broader. TheEuropean wolf, on the contrary, is characterized by a gaunt appearance, a pointed snout, long jaws, high ears, long legs, and feet very narrow. It is possible, nothwithstanding these points of difference, that bothmay be of the same species, the difference arising from a want ofsimilitude in the circumstances by which they are surrounded. For instance, the dense wool of the Hudson's Bay wolf may be accountedfor by the fact of its colder habitat, and its broader feet may be theresult of its having to run much upon the surface of the snow. Thewriter of this little book believes that this peculiar adaptation ofNature--which may be observed in all her kingdoms--may explain thedifference that exists between the wolves of the Northern parts ofAmerica and those of the South of Europe. He believes, moreover, thatthose of the Southern parts of the American continent approximate morenearly to the Pyrenean wolves, as he has seen in the tropical forest ofMexico some that possessed all that "gaunt" form and "sneaking" aspectthat characterize the latter. It would be interesting to inquire whether the wolves of Siberia andLapland, inhabitating a similar climate to that of the Northern parts ofAmerica, do not possess the same peculiarities as the North Americankind--a point which naturalists have not yet considered, and which you, my boy reader, may some day find both amusement and instruction indetermining for yourself. With regard to colour the wolves of both continents exhibit manyvarieties. In North America there are more than half-a-dozen colours ofthem, all receiving different names. There is the "grey wolf, " the"white, " the "brown, " the "dusky, " the "pied, " and the "black. " Thesetrivial names will give a good enough idea of the colours of each kind, but there are even varieties in their markings. "Yellow" wolves, too, have been seen, and "red" ones, and some of a "cream colour. " Of allthese the grey wolf is the most common, and is _par excellence thewolf_; but there are districts in which individuals of other colourspredominate. Wolves purely black are plenty in many parts, and whitewolves are often seen in large packs. Even those of the same colour differ in size, and that to a considerableextent. And what is also strange, large wolves will be found in onedistrict of country, while much smaller ones _of the same colour andspecies_ inhabit another. The largest in size of American wolves areabout six feet in length, the tail included; and about three feet inheight, measuring to the tips of the standing fur. The tail is usuallyabout one-third of the whole length. The habits of the American wolf are pretty much like those of hisEuropean cousin. He is a beast of prey, devouring all the smalleranimals he can lay hold of. He pursues and overtakes the deer, and oftenruns down the fox and makes a meal of it. He will kill and eat Indiandogs, although these are so near his own species that the one is oftentaken for the other. But this is not all, for he will even eat his ownkind, on a pinch. He is as cunning as the fox himself, and as cowardly;but at times, when impelled by hunger, he becomes bolder, and has beenknown to attack man. Instances of this kind, however, are rare. The American wolves burrow, and, like the fox, have several entrancesto their holes. A litter of young wolves numbers five puppies, but asmany as eight are often produced at one birth. During their journey through the Barren Grounds our voyageurs hadfrequently observed wolves. They were mostly grey ones, and of greatsize, for they were travelling through a district where the very largestkind is found. At times they saw a party of five or six together; andthese appeared to be following upon their trail--as each night, whenthey came barking about the camp, our travellers recognised some of themas having been seen before. They made no attempt to shoot any ofthem--partly because they did not want either their skins or flesh, andpartly because their ammunition had been reduced to a small quantity, and they did not wish to spend it unnecessarily. The wolves, therefore, were allowed to approach very near the camp, andhowl as much as they liked--which they usually did throughout thelivelong night. What they found to allure them after our travellers, thelatter could not make out; as they had not shot an animal of any kindsince leaving the lake, and scarcely a scrap of anything was ever leftbehind them. Perhaps the wolves were _living upon hope_. One evening our travellers had made their camp on the side of aridge--which they had just crossed--and under the shelter of some roughrocks. There was no wood in the neighbourhood wherewith to make a fire;but they had scraped the snow from the place over which their tent waspitched, and under it their skins were spread upon the ground. As thetent was a very small one, Marengo's sledge, with the utensils andpemmican bags, was always left outside close by the opening. Marengohimself slept there, and that was considered sufficient to secure allthese things from wolves, or any other creatures that might be prowlingabout. On the evening in question, the sledge was in its usual place--the doghaving been taken from it--and as our voyageurs had not yet had theirsupper, the pemmican bags were lying loosely about, one or two of thembeing open. There was a small rivulet at the foot of the ridge--some twohundred paces distant--and Basil and François had gone down to it to getwater. One of them took the axe to break the ice with, while the othercarried a vessel. On arriving near the bank of the rivulet, theattention of the boys was attracted to a singular appearance upon thesnow. A fresh shower had fallen that morning, and the surface was stillsoft, and very smooth. Upon this they observed double lines of littledots, running in different directions, which, upon close inspection, appeared to be the tracks of some animal. At first, Basil and François could hardly believe them to be such, thetracks were so very small. They had never seen so small onesbefore--those of a mouse being quite double the size. But when theylooked more closely at them, the boys could distinguish the marks offive little toes with claws upon them, which left no doubt upon theirminds that some living creature, and that a very diminutive one, musthave passed over the spot. Indeed, had the snow not been bothfine-grained and soft, the feet of such a creature could not have madeany impression upon it. The boys stopped and looked around, thinking they might see the animalitself. There was a wide circle of snow around them, and its surfacewas smooth and level; but not a speck upon it betrayed the presence ofany creature. "Perhaps it was a bird, " said François, "and has taken flight. " "I think not, " rejoined Basil. "They are not the tracks of a bird. It issome animal that has gone under the snow, I fancy. " "But I see no hole, " said François, "where even a beetle could have gonedown. Let us look for one. " At François' suggestion, they walked on following one of the dottedlines. Presently they came to a place, where a stalk of long grass stoodup through the snow--its seedless panicle just appearing above thesurface. Round this stalk a little hole had been formed--partly by themelting of the snow, and partly by the action of the wind upon thepanicle--and into this hole the tracks led. It was evident that theanimal, whatever it was, must have gone down the culm of the grass inmaking its descent from the surface of the snow! They now observed another track going _from_ the hole in an oppositedirection, which showed that the creature had climbed up in the sameway. Curious to know what it might have been, the boys hailed Lucien andNorman, telling them to come down. These, followed by Marengo, soonarrived upon the spot. When Lucien saw the tracks, he pronounced them atonce to be those of the little shrew-mouse, the smallest of all thequadrupeds of America. Several of them had evidently been out upon thesnow--as there were other dotted lines--and the tops of many stalks ofgrass were seen above the surface, each of which had formed a littlehole around it, by which the mice were enabled to get up and down. Norman, who had seen these little animals before, cautioned hiscompanions to remain quiet awhile, and perhaps some of them might cometo the surface. They all stopped therefore, and stood some time withoutmoving, or speaking to one another. Presently, a little head not muchbigger than a pea was seen peeping up, and then a body followed, whichin size did not exceed that of a large gooseberry! To this a tail wassuspended, just one inch in length, of a square shape, and tapering fromroot to point, like that of any other mouse. The little creature wascovered with a close smooth fur, of a clove-brown colour above, but moreyellowish upon the belly and sides; and was certainly, as it sat uponthe even surface of the snow, the most diminutive and oddest-lookingquadruped that any of the party had ever beheld. They were just whispering to one another what means they should use tocapture it, when Marengo, whom Basil had been holding quiet, all at onceuttered a loud bay; and, springing out of the hands of his master, galloped off towards the camp. All of them looked after, wondering whathad started the dog; but his strange behaviour was at once explained, and to their consternation. Around the tent, and close to its entrance, several large wolves were seen. They were leaping about hurriedly, andworrying some objects that lay upon the ground. What these objects werewas too plain. They were _the bags of pemmican_! Part of their contentswas seen strewed over the snow, and part was already in the stomachs ofthe wolves. The boys uttered a simultaneous shout, and ran forward. Marengo was bythis time among the wolves, and had set fiercely upon one of them. Hadhis masters not been at hand, the fierce brutes would soon have settledthe account with Marengo. But the former were now close by, and thewolves, seeing them, ran off; but, to the consternation of the boys, each of them carried off a bag of the pemmican in his mouth with as muchlightness and speed as if nothing encumbered them! [Illustration: THE WOLVES AND THE PEMMICAN BAGS. ] "We are lost!" cried Norman, in a voice of terror. "Our provisions aregone!--all gone!" It was true. The next moment the wolves disappeared over the summit ofthe ridge; and although each of the boys had seized his gun, and ranafter, the pursuit proved an idle one. Not a wolf was overtaken. Scarce a scrap of the pemmican had been left--only some fragments thathad been gnawed by the ravenous brutes, and scattered over the snow. That night our travellers went to bed supperless; and, what with hunger, and the depression of spirits caused by this incident, one and all ofthem kept awake nearly the whole of the night. CHAPTER XXIX. THE ROCK-TRIPE. They left their skin-couch at an early hour, close after daybreak. Hunger and anxiety drove them out of their tent. Not a morsel ofanything for breakfast! They looked abroad over the country, in order, if possible, to descry some living creature. None could be seen--nothingbut the wilderness waste of snow, with here and there the side of asteep hill, or a rock showing cold and bleak. Even the wolves that hadrobbed them were no longer to be seen, as if these creatures knew thatthey had got all that was worth having, and had now taken themselves offto hunt for plunder elsewhere. The situation of our travellers was really one of extreme peril, although it may be difficult for you, young reader, to conceive why itshould be so. They, however, knew it well. They knew that they mighttravel for days through that inhospitable region, without falling inwith anything that would make a single meal for them. But less time thanthat would suffice to starve them all. Already they felt the pangs ofhunger--for they had not eaten since their breakfast of the precedingday, the wolves having interrupted their preparations for dinner. It was of no use remaining where they were; so, striking their tent oncemore, they travelled forward. It was but poor consolation to them thatthey travelled much lighter than before. They had nothing to carry buttheir guns, and these they had got ready for work--so that their journeypartook somewhat of the character of a hunting excursion. They did noteven follow a direct course, but occasionally turned to one side or theother, wherever a clump of willows, or any other roughness on theground, looked like it might be the shelter of game. But during thatwhole day--although they travelled from near sunrise to sunset--not aliving thing was seen; and for the second night they went supperless tobed. A man will bear hunger for many days--some more, some less--withoutactually dying of it; but at no period will his sufferings be greaterthan during the third or fourth day. He will grow more feebleafterwards, but the pain which he endures will not be greater. On the third day the sufferings of our party were extreme. They began tochew pieces of their skin-tent and blankets; but although this took thesharp edge off their appetites, it added nothing to their strength; andthey still craved for food, and grew feebler. To use a poetical phrase, Marengo now became the "cynosure of everyeye. " Marengo was not very fat. The sledge and short rations had thinnedhim down, and his ribs could be easily traced. Although the boys, andBasil in particular, would have suffered much before sacrificing him, yet starvation will reconcile a man to part with his best friend. Inspite of their friendship for Marengo, his masters could not helpscanning him from time to time with hungry looks. Marengo was an olddog, and, no doubt, as tough as a piece of tan-leather; but theirappetites were made up for anything. It was near mid-day. They had started early, as on the day before. Theywere trudging wearily along, and making but little progress. Marengo wasstruggling with his sledge, feeble as any of the party. Basil saw thatthe eyes of his companions were from time to time bent upon the dog; andthough none of them said anything, he understood the thoughts that werepassing within them. He knew that none of them wished to propose it--asBasil was the real master of Marengo--but their glances weresufficiently intelligible to him. He looked at the downcast countenanceof the once merry François--at the serious air of Norman--at the wancheek and sunken eye of Lucien, whom Basil dearly loved. He hesitated nolonger. His duty to his companions at once overcame his affection forhis faithful dog. "We must kill _him_!" said he, suddenly stopping, and pointing toMarengo. The rest halted. "I fear there's no help for it, " said Norman, turning his face in everydirection, and sweeping the surface of the snow with hopeless glances. François also assented to the proposal. "Let us make a condition, " suggested Lucien; "I for one could walk fivemiles farther. " And as Lucien said this, he made an effort to standerect, and look strong and brave; but Basil knew it was an effort of_generosity_. "No, " said he, --"no, dear Luce. You are done up. We must kill the dog!" "Nonsense, Basil, you mistake, " replied the other; "I assure you I amfar from being done up. I could go much farther yet. Stay!" continuedhe, pointing ahead; "you see yonder rocks? They are about three milesoff, I should think. They lie directly in our course. Well, now, let usagree to this condition. Let us give poor Marengo a chance for his life. If we find nothing before reaching those rocks, why then----" And Lucien, seeing Marengo gazing up in his face, left the sentenceunfinished. The poor brute looked up at all of them as though heunderstood every word that they were saying; and his mute appeal, had itbeen necessary, would not have been thrown away. But it did not requirethat to get him the proposed respite. All agreed willingly with Lucien'sproposition; and, shouldering their pieces, the party moved on. Lucien had purposely understated the distance to the rocks. It was five, instead of three miles; and some of them made it full ten, as they weredetermined Marengo should have the benefit of every chance. Theydeployed like skirmishers; and not a brake or brush that lay to theright or left of the path but was visited and beaten by one or other ofthem. Their diligence was to no purpose. After two hours' weary work, they arrived among the rocks, having seen not a trace of eitherquadruped or bird. "Come!" cried Lucien in his now feeble voice, still trying to lookcheerful, "we must pass through them. There is a chance yet. Let himhave fair play. The rocks were to be the limit, but it was not statedwhat part of them. Let us pass through to the other side--they do notextend far. " Encouraged by the words of Lucien, the party entered among the rocks, moving on separate paths. They had gone only a few paces, when a shoutfrom Norman caused the rest to look to him for an explanation. No animalwas in sight. Had he seen any? No; but something that gratified himcertainly, for his voice and manner expressed it. "What is it?" inquired the others, all speaking at the same time. "_Tripe de roche_!" answered he. "_Tripe de roche_?" "Yes, " replied Norman, "look there!" and he pointed to one of the rocksdirectly ahead of them, at the same time moving forward to it. Theothers hastened up after. On reaching the rock, they saw what Norman hadmeant by the words _tripe de roche_ (rock-tripe). It was a black, hard, crumply substance, that nearly covered the surface of the rock, and wasevidently of a vegetable nature. Lucien knew what it was as well asNorman, and joy had expressed itself upon his pale cheeks at the sight. As for Basil and François they only stood waiting an explanation, andwondering what value a quantity of "rock moss, " as they deemed it, couldbe to persons in their condition. Lucien soon informed them that it was not a "moss, " but a "lichen, " andof that celebrated species which will sustain human life. It was the_Gyrophora_. Norman confirmed Lucien's statement, and furthermoreaffirmed, that not only the Indians and Esquimaux, but also parties ofvoyageurs, had often subsisted upon it for days, when they wouldotherwise have starved. There are many species, --not less than five orsix. All of them possess nutritive properties, but only one is apalatable food--the _Gyrophora vellea_ of botanists. Unfortunately thiswas not the sort which our voyageurs had happened upon, as it grows onlyupon rocks shaded by woods, and is rarely met with in the open barrens. The one, however, which Norman had discovered was the "next best, " andthey were all glad at finding even that. The first thing to be thought of was to collect it, and all four set topeeling and scraping it from the rocks. The next thought was to make itready for eating. Here a new difficulty stared them in the face. The_tripe de roche_ had to be boiled, --it could not be eaten else, --andwhere was the fire? where was the wood to make one? Not a stick was tobe seen. They had not met with a tree during all that day's journey! They were now as badly off as ever. The _tripe de roche_ would be of nomore use to them than so much dry grass. What could they do with it? In the midst of their suspense, one of them thought of thesledge. --Marengo's sledge. That would make a fire, but a very small one. It might do to cook a single meal. Even that was better than none. Marengo was not going to object to the arrangement. He looked quitewilling to part with the sledge. But a few hours before, it came nearbeing used to cook Marengo himself. He was not aware of that, perhaps, but no matter. All agreed that the sledge must be broken up, andconverted into firewood. They were about taking it to pieces, and had already "unhitched"Marengo from it, when Basil, who had walked to the other side of therocky jumble, cried back to them to desist. He had espied some willowsat no great distance. Out of these a fire could be made. The sledge, therefore, was let alone for the present. Basil and François immediatelystarted for the willows, while Norman and Lucien remained upon the spotto prepare the "tripe" for the pot. In a short time the former parties returned with two large bundles ofwillows, and the fire was kindled. The _tripe de roche_, with somesnow--for there was no water near--was put into the pot, and the latterhung over the blaze. After boiling for nearly an hour, the lichen became reduced to a softgummy pulp, and Norman thickened the mess to his taste by putting inmore snow, or more of the "tripe, " as it seemed to require it. The potwas then taken from the fire, and all four greedily ate of its contents. It was far from being palatable, and had a clammy "feel" in the mouth, something like sago; but none of the party was in any way either daintyor fastidious just at that time, and they soon consumed all that hadbeen cooked. It did not satisfy the appetite, though it filled thestomach, and made their situation less painful to bear. Norman informed them that it was much better when cooked with a littlemeat, so as to make broth. This Norman's companions could easily credit, but where was the meat to come from? The Indians prefer the _tripe deroche_ when prepared along with the roe of fish, or when boiled in fishliquor. Our weary voyageurs resolved to remain among the rocks for that night atleast; and with this intent they put up their little tent. They did notkindle any fire, as the willows were scarce, and there would be barelyenough to make one or two more boilings of the rock-tripe. They spreadtheir skins within the tent, and creeping in, kept one another as warmas they could until morning. CHAPTER XXX. THE POLAR HARE AND GREAT SNOWY OWL. Of course hunger kept them from sleeping late. They were up and out ofthe tent by an early hour. Their fire was re-kindled, and they weremaking preparations for a fresh pot of rock-tripe, when they werestartled by the note of a well-known bird. On looking up, they beheldseated upon the point of a rock the creature itself, which was the"cinereous crow, " or, as it is better known, the "whiskey Jack. " Thelatter name it receives from the voyageurs, on account of theresemblance of its Indian appellation, "whiskae-shaw-neesh" to the words"whiskey John. " Although sometimes called the "cinereous crow, " the birdis a true jay. It is one of the most inelegant of the genus, being of a dull greycolour, and not particularly graceful in its form. Its plumage, moreover, does not consist of webbed feathers, but rather more resembleshair; nor does its voice make up for the plainness of its appearance, asis the case with some birds. On the contrary, the voice of "whiskeyJack" is plaintive and squeaking, though he is something of a mocker inhis way, and frequently imitates the notes of other birds. He is one ofthose creatures that frequent the habitations of man, and there is nota fur post, or fort, in all the Hudson's Bay territory, where "whiskeyJack" is not familiarly known. He is far from being a favourite, however, as, like his near relativethe magpie, he is a great thief, and will follow the marten-trapper allday while baiting his traps, perching upon a tree until the bait is set, and then pouncing down, and carrying it off. He frequently pilfers smallarticles from the forts and encampments, and is so bold as to enter thetents, and seize food out of any vessel that may contain it. Notwithstanding all this, he is a favourite with the traveller throughthese inhospitable regions. No matter how barren the spot where thevoyageur may make his camp, his tent will hardly be pitched, before hereceives a visit from "whiskey Jack, " who comes, of course, to pick upany crumbs that may fall. His company, therefore, in a region where allother wild creatures shun the society of man, endears him to the lonelytraveller. At many of their camps our voyageurs had met with this singular bird, and were always glad to receive him as a friend. They were now doublydelighted to see him, but this delight arose from no friendly feelings. Their guest was at once doomed to die. François had taken up his gun, and in the next moment would have brought him down, had he not beenchecked by Norman. Not that Norman intended to plead for his life, butNorman's eye had caught sight of another "whiskey Jack, "--which washopping among the rocks at some distance--and fearing that François'shot might frighten it away, had hindered him from firing. It wasNorman's design to get both. The second "whiskey Jack, " or, perhaps, it was the "whiskey Jill, " soondrew near; and both were now seen to hop from rock to rock, and thenupon the top of the tent, and one of them actually settled upon the edgeof the pot, as it hung over the fire, and quietly looking into it, appeared to scrutinize its contents! The boys could not think of any way of getting the birds, except byFrançois' gun; and it was at length agreed that François should do hisbest. He was sure of one of them, at least; so telling the others to getbehind him, he fired at the more distant one where it sat upon the tent, and took the other on the wing. Both shots were successful. The two jays fell, and were soon divested oftheir soft, silky, hair-like plumage, and dropped into the boiling pot. They did not weigh together more than about six or seven ounces; buteven that was accounted something under present circumstances; and, withthe _tripe de roche_, a much better breakfast was made than they hadanticipated. No more of the lichen could be found. The rocks were all searched, butonly a few patches--not enough for another full meal--could be obtained. The travellers had no other resource, therefore, but to continue on, andpassing through the rocky ground, they once more embarked upon thewilderness of snow. During that whole day not a living creature gladdened their eyes. Theysaw nothing that was eatable--fish, flesh, fowl, or vegetable. Not evena bit of rock-tripe--in these parts the last resource of starvingmen--could be met with. They encamped in a plain, where not a treestood--not even a rock to shelter them. Next morning a consultation was held. Marengo was again the subject oftheir thoughts and conversation. Should they kill him on the spot or goa little farther? That was the question. Lucien, as before, interposedin his favour. There was a high hill many miles off, and in their propercourse. "Let us first reach yonder hill, " proposed Lucien. "If nothingis found before that, then we must part with Marengo. " The proposal was agreed to, and, striking their tent, they again setout. It was a toilsome long way to that hill--feeble and weary as they allwere--but they reached it without having observed the slightest trace ofanimal life. "Up the hill!" cried Lucien, beckoning to the others, and cheering themwith his weak voice, "Up the hill!" On they went, up the steep declivity--Marengo toiling on after them. Thedog looked downcast and despairing. He really appeared to know theconditions that had been made for his life. His masters, as they creptupward, looked sharply before them. Every tuft that appeared above thesnow was scrutinized, and every inch of the ground, as it came intoview, was examined. At length they crossed the escarpment of the hill, and stood upon thesummit. They gazed forward with disappointed feelings. The hill-top wasa sort of table plain, of about three hundred yards in diameter. It wascovered with snow, nearly a foot in depth. A few heads of withered grasswere seen above the surface, but not enough to subdue the uniform whitethat prevailed all over. There was no creature upon it; that wasevident. A bird as big as a sparrow, or a quadruped as large as ashrew-mouse, could have been seen upon any part of it. A single glancesatisfied all of them that no living thing was there. They halted without proceeding farther. Some of them could not have goneanother mile, and all of them were tottering in their tracks. Marengohad arrived upon the summit, and stood a little to one side, with thesledge behind him. "_You_ must do it!" said Basil, speaking to Norman in a hoarse voice, and turning his head away. Lucien and François stepped aside at the sametime, and stood as if looking down the hill. The countenances of allthree betokened extreme sorrow. There was a tear in Basil's eye that hewas trying to wipe away with his sleeve. The sharp click of Norman's gun was heard behind them, and they were allwaiting for the report, when, at that moment, a dark shadow passing overthe white declivity arrested their attention! It was the shadow of abird upon the wing. The simultaneous exclamation of all three stayedNorman's finger--already pressing upon the trigger--and the latter, turning round, saw that they were regarding some object in the air. Itwas a bird of great size--almost as large as an eagle, but with theplumage of a swan. It was white all over--both body and wings--white asthe snow over which it was sailing. Norman knew the bird at a glance. Its thick short neck and large head--its broad-spreading wings, of milkywhiteness, were not to be mistaken. It was the "great snowy owl" of theArctic regions. Its appearance suddenly changed the aspect of affairs. Norman let thebutt of his rifle fall to the ground, and stood, like the rest, watchingthe bird in its flight. The snowy owl is, perhaps, the most beautiful, as it is one of the mostpowerful birds of its genus--of which there are more than a dozen inNorth America. It is a bird of the Polar regions--even the mostremote--and in the dead of winter it is found within the Arctic circle, on both Continents--although at the same season it also wanders farthersouth. It dwells upon the Barren Grounds as well as in wooded districts. In the former it squats upon the snow, where its peculiar colour oftenprevents it from being noticed by the passing hunter. Nature hasfurnished it with every protection from the cold. Its plumage is thick, closely matted, and downy, and it is feathered to the very eyes--so thatits legs appear as large as those of a good-sized dog. The bill, too, iscompletely hidden under a mass of feathers that cover its face, and noteven a point of its whole body is exposed. The owl is usually looked upon as a night-bird, and in Southernlatitudes it is rarely seen by day; but the owls of the Northern regionsdiffer from their congeners in this respect. They hunt by day, evenduring the bright hours of noon. Were it not so, how could they exist inthe midst of an Arctic summer, when the days are months in duration?Here we have another example of the manner in which Nature trains herwild creatures to adapt themselves to their situation. At least a dozen species of owls frequent the territory of the Hudson'sBay Company--the largest of which is the cinereous owl, whose wings havea spread of nearly five feet. Some species migrate south on the approachof winter; while several, as the snowy owl, remain to prey upon theptarmigan, the hares, and other small quadrupeds, who, like themselves, choose that dreary region for their winter home. Our travellers, as I have said, stood watching the owl as it soaredsilently through the heavens. François had thrown his gun across hisleft arm, in hopes he might get a shot at it; but the bird--a shy one atall times--kept away out of range; and, after circling once or twiceover the hill, uttered a loud cry and flew off. Its cry resembled the moan of a human being in distress; and its effectupon the minds of our travellers, in the state they then were, was farfrom being pleasant. They watched the bird with despairing looks, untilit was lost against the white background of a snow-covered hill. They had noticed that the owl appeared to be just taking flight whenthey first saw it. It must have risen up from the hill upon which theywere; and they once more ran their eyes along the level summit, curiousto know where it had been perched that they had not seen it. No doubt, reflected they, it had been near enough, but its colour had rendered itundistinguishable from the snow. "What a pity!" exclaimed François. While making these reflections, and sweeping their glances around, anobject caught their eyes that caused some of them to ejaculate andsuddenly raise their guns. This object was near the centre of the summittable, and at first sight appeared to be only a lump of snow; but uponcloser inspection, two little round spots of a dark colour, and abovethese two elongated black marks, could be seen. Looking steadily, theeye at length traced the outlines of an animal, that sat in a crouchingattitude. The round spots were its eyes, and the black marks above themwere tips of a pair of very long ears. All the rest of its body wascovered with a soft white fur, hardly to be distinguished from the snowupon which it rested. The form and colour of the animal, but more especially its long erectears, made it easy for them to tell what it was. All of them saw it wasa hare. "Hush!" continued Norman, as soon as he saw it, "keep still all ofyou--leave it to me. " "What shall we do?" demanded Basil. "Can we not assist you?" "No, " was the reply, uttered in a whisper, "stay where you are. Keep thedog quiet. I'll manage puss, if the owl hasn't scared her too badly. That scream has started her out of her form. I'm certain she wasn't thatway before. Maybe she'll sit it out. Lucky the sun's high--don't move astep. Have the dog ready, but hold him tight, and keep a sharp look outif she bolts. " After giving these instructions, that were all uttered quickly and in anunder tone, Norman moved off, with his gun carried across his arm. Hedid not move in the direction of the hare, but rather as if he was going_from_ her. His course, however, bent gradually into a circle of whichthe hare was the centre--the diameter being the full breadth of thesummit level, which was about three hundred yards. In this circle hewalked round and round, keeping his eye fixed upon the crouching animal. When he had nearly completed one circumference, he began to shorten thediameter--so that the curve which he was now following was a spiral one, and gradually drawing nearer to the hare. The latter kept watching himas he moved--curiosity evidently mingling with her fears. Fortunately, as Norman had said, the sun was nearly in the vertex of the heavens, andhis own body cast very little shadow upon the snow. Had it beenotherwise, the hare would have been frightened at the moving shadow, andwould have sprung out of her form, before he could have got withinrange. When he had made some four or five circuits, Norman moved slower andslower, and then stopped nearly opposite to where the others were. Thesestood watching him with beating hearts, for they knew that the life ofMarengo, and perhaps their own as well, depended on the shot. Norman hadchosen his place, so that in case the hare bolted, she might run towardsthem, and give them the chance of a flying shot. His gun was already athis shoulder--his finger rested on the trigger, and the boys wereexpecting the report, when again the shadow of a bird flitted over thesnow, a loud human-like scream sounded in their ears, and the hare wasseen to spring up, and stretch her long legs in flight. At the sameinstant the great snowy owl was observed wheeling above, and threateningto pounce upon the fleeing animal! The hare ran in a side direction, but it brought her as she passedwithin range of the party by the sledge. The owl kept above her as sheran. A dozen leaps was all the hare ever made. A loud crack was heard, and she was seen to spring up and fall back upon the snow, dead as adoor-nail. Like an echo another crack followed--a wild scream rangthrough the air, and the great white owl fell fluttering to the earth. The reports were not of a rifle. They were the louder detonations of ashot gun. All eyes were turned towards François, who, like a little god, stood enveloped in a halo of blue smoke. François was the hero of thehour. Marengo rushed forward and seized the struggling owl, that snapped itsbill at him like a watchman's rattle. But Marengo did not care for that;and seizing its head in his teeth, gave it a crunch that at once put anend to its flapping. Marengo was reprieved, and he seemed to know it, as he bounded over thesnow, waving his tail, and barking like a young fool. They all ran up to the hare, which proved to be the "Polar hare" and oneof the largest of its species--not less than fifteen pounds in weight. Its fur, soft and white like swan-down, was stained with red blood. Itwas not quite dead. Its little heart yet beat faintly, and the light oflife was still shining from its beautiful honey-coloured eyes. Both itand the owl were taken up and carried to the sledge, which was once moreattached to Marengo, as the party intended to go forward and halt underthe shelter of the hill. "There must be some wood in this quarter, " remarked Norman; "I neverknew this sort of hare far from timber. " "True, " said Lucien, "the Polar hare feeds upon willows, arbutus, andthe Labrador tea-plant. Some of these kinds must be near. " While they were speaking, they had reached the brow of the hill, on theopposite side from where they had ascended. On looking into the valleybelow, to their great joy they beheld some clumps of willows, andgood-sized trees of poplar, birch, and spruce-pine, and passing down thehill, the travellers soon stood in their midst. Presently was heard thechipping sound of an axe and crash of falling timber, and in a fewmoments after a column of smoke was seen soaring up out of the valley, and curling cheerfully towards the bright blue sky. CHAPTER XXXI. THE JUMPING MOUSE AND THE ERMINE. Large as the hare was, she would have made but a meal for our fourhungry voyageurs, had they eaten at will. By Lucien's advice, however, they restrained themselves, and half of her was left for supper, whenthe "cook" promised to make them hare-soup. The head, feet, and otherspare bits, fell to Marengo's share. The owl, whose flesh was almost aswhite as its plumage, and, as Norman well knew, most delicate eating, was reserved for to-morrow's breakfast. They had pitched their tent with the intention of remaining at thatplace all night, and continuing their journey next day; but, as it stillwanted several hours of sunset, and the strength of all was considerablyrecruited, they resolved to hunt about the neighbourhood as long as theyhad light. It was of great importance that they should procure moregame. The owl would make but a spare breakfast, and after that where wasthe next meal to come from? They had had a temporary relief, and whiletheir strength lasted, they must use every effort to procure a furthersupply. The valley in which their new camp was placed looked well forgame. It was a sort of oäsis in the Barren Grounds. There was a lake and aconsiderable skirting of timber around it--consisting, as we have said, of willows, poplars, spruce-pine, and dwarf birch-trees. The Alpinearbutus, whose berries are the food of many species of animals, alsogrew upon the side of the hills; and the Labrador tea-plant was foundupon the low ground around the lake. The leaves of this last is afavourite food of the Polar hare, and our voyageurs had no doubt butthat there were many of these animals in the neighbourhood. Indeed, theyhad better evidence than conjecture, for they saw numerous hare-tracksin the snow. There were tracks of other animals too, for it is awell-known fact that where one kind exists, at least two or three otherswill be found in the same habitat--all being connected together by a"chain of destruction. " A singular illustration of this was afforded to Lucien, who remained atthe camp while the rest went out hunting. He had gathered some of theleaves of the Labrador tea, and was drying them over the coals, intending to cheer his comrades with a cup of this beverage aftersupper. The hare-soup was boiling, and the "cook" sat listening to thecheerful sounds that issued from the pot--now and then taking off thelid to examine its savoury contents, and give them a stir. He would thendirect his attention to the tea-leaves that were parching in thefrying-pan; and, having shifted them a little, felt himself at libertyto look about for a minute or two. On one of these occasions, while glancing up, his attention wasattracted to an object which appeared upon the snow at a short distancefrom where he sat. A wreath of snow, that had formed under the shelterof the hill, extended all around its base, presenting a steep front inevery direction. This front was only two or three feet in height; butthe top surface of the wreath was many yards wide--in fact, it extendedback until it became blended with the slope of the hill. It was smoothand nearly level, but the hill above was steep, and somewhat rough androcky. The steep front of the wreath came down within half-a-dozen pacesof the fire where Lucien was seated; and it was upon the top orscarpment of it that the object appeared that had drawn his attention. It was a small creature, but it was in motion, and thus had caught hiseye. A single glance showed him that the little animal was a mouse, but of asomewhat singular species. It was about the size of the common mouse, but quite different in colour. The upper half of its body was of a lightmahogany tint, while the lower half, including the legs and feet, wereof a milky whiteness. It was, in fact, the "white-footed mouse" (_Musleucopus_), one of the most beautiful of its kind. Here and there above the surface of the snow protruded the tops ofarbutus-trees; and the little creature was passing from one of these tothe other, in search, no doubt, of the berries that remain upon thesetrees all the winter. Sometimes it ran from point to point like anyother mouse, but now and then it would rear itself on its hind-legs, andleap several feet at a single bound! In this it evidently assisteditself by pressing its tail--in which it possesses muscularpower--against the snow. This peculiar mode of progression has obtainedfor it the name of the "jumping-mouse, " and among the Indians"deer"-mouse, because its leap reminds them of the bounding spring ofthe deer. But there are still other species of "jumping-mice" in Americathat possess this power to a greater degree even than the _Musleucopus_. Lucien watched its motions without attempting to interfere with it, until it had got nearly out of sight. He did not desire to do injury tothe little creature, nor was he curious to obtain it, as he had alreadymet with many specimens, and examined them to his satisfaction. He hadceased to think of it, and would, perhaps, never have thought of itagain, but, upon turning his eyes in the opposite direction, he observedanother animal upon the snow. This creature had a far different aspectfrom the mouse. Its body was nearly a foot in length, although not muchthicker than that of the other! Its legs were short, but strong, and itsforehead broad and arched convexly. It had a tail more than half thelength of the body, hairy, and tapering like that of a cat. Its form wasthe well-known form of the weasel, and it was, in fact, a species ofweasel. It was the celebrated _ermine_, celebrated for its soft and beautifulfur, so long prized as an ornament for the robes of the rich. It waswhite all over, with the exception of its tail; and that, for about aninch or so at the tip, was covered with black silky hair. On some partsof the body, too, the white was tinged with a primrose yellow; but thistinge is not found in all animals of this species, as some individualsare pure white. Of course it was now in its winter "robes"; but in thesummer it changes to a colour that does not differ much from that of thecommon weasel. When Lucien first saw it, it was running along the top of the wreath, and coming from the same direction from which the mouse had come. Nowand then it paused awhile, and then ran on again. Lucien observed thatit kept its nose to the ground, and as it drew nearer he saw that it wasfollowing on the same path which the other had taken. To hisastonishment he perceived that it was _trailing the mouse_! Whatever thelatter had doubled or made a _détour_, the ermine followed the track;and where the mouse had given one of its long leaps, there the erminewould stop, and, after beating about until it struck the trail again, would resume its onward course at a gallop. Its manoeuvres were exactlylike those of a hound upon the fresh trail of a fox! Lucien now looked abroad to discover the mouse. It was still in sightfar off upon the snow, and, as Lucien could see, busily gnawing at thearbutus, quite unconscious that its _greatest_ enemy was so near. I saygreatest enemy, for the _Mus leucopus_ is the _natural_ prey of the_Mustela erminea_. The mouse was soon made aware of the dangerous proximity, but not untilthe ermine had got within a few feet of it. When it perceived the latterit shrunk, at first, among the leaves of the arbutus; but seeing therewould be no protection there--as the other was still springing forwardto seize it--it leaped up, and endeavoured to escape by flight. Itsflight appeared to be in alternate jumps and runs, but the chase was nota long one. The ermine was as active as a cat, and, after a few skips, its claws were struck into the mouse. There was a short, slender squeak, and then a "crunch, " like the cracking of a hazel-nut. This last soundwas produced by the teeth of the ermine breaking through the skull ofits victim. CHAPTER XXXII. THE ARCTIC FOX AND WHITE WOLF. Lucien turned round to get hold of his rifle, intending to punish theermine, although the little creature, in doing what it did, had onlyobeyed a law of nature. But the boy had also another design in killingit: he wished to compare it with some ermines he had seen whiletravelling upon Lake Winnipeg, which, as he thought, were muchlarger--one that he had caught having measured more than a foot inlength, without including the tail. He wished, also, to make somecomparison between it and the common weasel; for in its _winter dress_, in the snowy regions, the latter very much resembles the ermine; and, indeed, the trappers make no distinction between them. With these ideas Lucien had grasped his gun, and was raising himself tocreep a little nearer, when his eye was arrested by the motions ofanother creature coming along the top of the wreath. This last was asnow-white animal, with long, shaggy fur, sharp-pointed snout, erectears, and bushy tail. Its aspect was fox-like, and its movements andattitudes had all that semblance of cunning and caution socharacteristic of these animals. Well might it, for it _was_ a fox--thebeautiful white fox of the Arctic regions. It is commonly supposed that there are but two or three kinds of foxesin America; and that these are only varieties of the European species. This is an erroneous idea, as there are nearly a dozen varietiesexisting in North America, although they may be referred to a lessnumber of species. There is the Arctic fox, which is confined to thecold Northern regions, and which in winter is white. The "sooty-fox" is a variety of the "Arctic, " distinguished from it onlyby its colour, which is of a uniform blackish brown. The "American fox" or, as it is commonly called, the "red fox, " has beenlong supposed to be the same as the European red fox. This is erroneous. They differ in many points; and, what is somewhat curious, these pointsof difference are similar to those that exist between the European andAmerican wolves, as already given. The "cross fox" is supposed by the Indians and some naturalists to beonly a variety of the last. It derives its name from its having two darkstripes crossing each other upon the shoulders. Its fur from thiscircumstance, and perhaps because the animal is scarce, is more prizedthan that of the red variety. When a single skin of the latter is worthonly fifteen shillings, one of the cross fox will bring as much as fiveguineas. Another variety of the red fox, and a much more rare one, is the"black, " or "silver" fox. The skins of these command six times the priceof any other furs found in America, with the exception of the sea-otter. The animal itself is so rare that only a few fall into the hands of theHudson's Bay Company in a season; and Mr. Nicholay, the celebratedLondon furrier, asserts that a single skin will fetch from ten to fortyguineas, according to quality. A remarkable cloak, or pelisse, belongingto the Emperor of Russia, and made out of the skins of silver-foxes, wasexhibited in the Great London Exposition of 1851. It was made entirelyfrom the neck-part of the skins--the only part of the silver-fox whichis pure black. This cloak was valued at 3400_l. _; though Mr. Nicholayconsiders this an exaggerated estimate, and states its true value to benot over 1000_l. _ George the Fourth had a lining of black fox-skinsworth 1000_l. _ The "grey fox" is a more southern species than any already described. Its proper home is the temperate zone covered by the United States;although it extends its range into the southern parts of Canada. In theUnited States it is the most common kind, although in that districtthere is also a "red fox, " different from the _Vulpus fulvus_ alreadynoticed; and which, no doubt, is the red fox of Europe, introduced bythe early colonists of America. Still another species, the smallest and perhaps the most interesting ofany, is the "kit fox. " This little creature is an inhabitant of theprairies, where it makes its burrows far from any wood. It is extremelyshy, and the swiftest animal in the prairie country--outrunning even theantelope! When Lucien saw the fox he thought no more of the ermine, but drew backand crouched down, in hopes he might get a shot at the larger animal. Heknew well that the flesh of the Arctic fox is highly esteemed as food, particularly by persons situated as he and his companions were, and hehoped to be able to add it to their larder. When first seen it was coming towards him, though not in a direct line. It was engaged in hunting, and, with its nose to the snow, was runningin zig-zag lines, "quartering" the ground like a pointer dog. Presentlyit struck the trail of the ermine, and with a yelp of satisfactionfollowed it. This of course brought it close past where Lucien was; but, notwithstanding his eagerness to fire, it moved so rapidly along thetrail that he was unable to take sight upon it. It did not halt for amoment; and, as Lucien's gun was a rifle, he knew that a flying shotwould be an uncertain one. In the belief, therefore, that the fox wouldstop soon--at all events when it came up with the ermine--he restrainedhimself from firing, and waited. It ran on, still keeping the track of the ermine. The latter, hithertobusy with his own prey, did not see the fox until it was itself seen, when, dropping the half-eaten mouse, it reared up on its hind-quarterslike a squirrel or a monkey, at the same time spitting as spitefully asany other weasel could have done. In a moment, however, it changed itstactics--for the open jaws of the fox were within a few paces of it--andafter making a short quick run along the surface, it threw up itshind-quarters, and plunged head-foremost into the snow! The fox sprangforward, and flinging his brush high in the air, shot after like anarrow! Both had now disappeared from Lucien's sight. For a moment the surfaceof the snow was disturbed above the spot where they had gone down, butthe next moment all was still, and no evidence existed that a livingcreature had been there, except the tracks, and the break the twocreatures had made in going down. Lucien ran forward until he was withina few yards of the place, and stood watching the hole, with his rifleready--thinking that the fox, at least, would soon come up again. He had waited for nearly five minutes, looking steadily at this point, when his eye was attracted by a movement under the snow, at aconsiderable distance, quite fifty paces, from where he stood. Thefrozen crust was seen to upheave: and, the next moment, the head of thefox, and afterwards his whole body, appeared above the surface. Luciensaw that the ermine lay transversely between his jaws, and was quitedead! He was about to fire, but the fox, suddenly perceiving him, shotoff like an arrow, carrying his prey along with him. He was soon out of reach, and Lucien, seeing that he had lost hischance, was about to return to the fire, when, all at once, the fox wasobserved to stop, turn suddenly in his tracks, and run off in a newdirection! Lucien looked beyond to ascertain the cause of this strangemanoeuvre. That was soon ascertained. Coming down from among the rockswas a large animal--five times the fox's size--but in other respects notunlike him. It was also of a snow-white colour, with long hair, bushytail, and short erect ears, but its aspect was not to be mistaken. Itwas the great _white wolf_. When Lucien first saw this new-comer, the latter had just espied thefox, and was about stretching out into a gallop towards him. The fox, _watching backwards_ as he ran, had not seen the wolf, until the latterwas within a few springs of him; and now when he had turned, and bothwere in full chase, there was not over twenty yards between them. Thedirection in which they ran would bring them near to Lucien; and so theycame, and passed him--neither of them seeming to heed his presence. Theyhad not got many yards farther, before Lucien perceived that the wolfwas fast closing on the fox, and would soon capture him. Believing hewould then stop, so as to offer him a fairer chance for a shot, Lucienfollowed. The wolf, however, had noticed him coming after, and althoughthe next moment he closed his great jaws upon the fox, he did not pausefor a single instant, but, lifting the latter clear up from the ground, ran on without the slightest apparent diminution of speed! Reynard was seen to struggle and kick, while he squeaked like a shotpuppy; but his cries each moment grew feebler, and his struggles sooncame to an end. The wolf held him transversely in his jaws--just as hehimself but the moment before had carried the ermine. Lucien saw there was no use in following them, as the wolf ran on withhis prey. With some disappointment, therefore, he was about to return tothe fire, where, to add to his mortification, he knew he would find histea-leaves parched to a cinder. He lingered a moment, however, with hiseyes still fixed upon the departing wolf that was just about todisappear over the crest of a ridge. The fox was still in his jaws, butno longer struggling. Reynard looked limber and dead, as his legs swungloosely on both sides of the wolf's head Lucien at that moment saw thelatter suddenly stop in his career, and then drop down upon the surfaceof the snow as if dead! He fell with his victim in his jaws, and layhalf doubled up, and quite still. This strange action would have been a difficult thing for Lucien toexplain, but, almost at the same instant in which he observed it, a puffof blue smoke shot up over the ridge, and quickly following was heardthe sharp crack of a rifle. Then a head with its cap of raccoon skinappeared above the snow, and Lucien, recognising the face of Basil, ranforward to meet him. Both soon stood over the body of the dead wolf, wondering at what theysaw; but Basil, far more than Lucien--for the latter already knew thecircumstances of that strange scene of death. First there was the greatgaunt body of the wolf stretched along the snow, and quite dead. Cross-ways in his mouth was the fox, just as he had been carried off;and across the jaws of the latter, lay the long worm-like body of theermine, still retaining between its teeth the half-devoured remains ofthe white-footed mouse! A very chain of destroyers! These creatures diedas they had lived, preying one upon the other! Of all four the littlemouse alone was an innocent victim. The other three, though morallyguilty by the laws of man, yet were only acting in obedience to the lawsof Nature and necessity. Man himself obeys a similar law, as Basil had just shown. Philosophizeas we will, we cannot comprehend why it is so--why Nature requires thesacrifice of one of her creatures for the sustenance of another. Butalthough we cannot understand the cause, we must not condemn the fact asit exists; nor must we suppose, as some do, that the destruction ofGod's creatures for our necessities constitutes a crime. They who thinkso, and who, in consistency with their doctrines, confine themselves towhat they term "vegetable" food, are at best but shallow reasoners. Theyhave not studied Nature very closely, else would they know that everytime they pluck up a parsnip, or draw their blade across the leaf of alettuce, they cause pain and death! How much pain we cannot tell; but that the plant feels, as well as theanimal, we can clearly _prove_. Probably it feels less, and it may beeach kind of plant differs from others in the amount, according to itshigher or lower organism. Probably its amount of pleasure--itscapability of enjoyment--is in a direct proportion to the pain which itendures; and it is highly probable that this double line of ratios runsin an ascending scale throughout the vegetable kingdom, graduallyjoining on to what is more strictly termed the "animal. " But thesemysteries of life, my young friend, will be interesting studies for youwhen your mind becomes matured. Perhaps it may be your fortune to unravel some of them, for the benefitof your fellow-men. I feel satisfied that you will not only be a studentof Nature, but one of her great teachers; you will far surpass theauthor of this little book in your knowledge of Nature's laws; but itwill always be a happiness to him to reflect, that, when far advancedupon the highway of science, you will look back to him as one you hadpassed upon the road, and who _pointed you to the path_. Though Basil had shot the wolf, it was plain that it was not the firstnor yet the second time he had discharged his rifle since leaving thecamp. From his game-bag protruded the curving claws and wing-tips of agreat bird. In one hand he carried a white hare--not the Polar hare--buta much smaller kind, also an inhabitant of these snowy regions; and overhis shoulders was slung a fierce-looking creature, the great wild-cat orlynx of America. The bird in his bag was the golden eagle, one of thefew feathered creatures that brave the fierce winter of a northernclimate, and does not migrate, like its congeners, the "white-head" andthe osprey, to more southern regions. Basil had returned alone--for the three, Basil, Norman, and François, had taken different directions at setting out. This they had done, inorder to have as great a number of chances as possible of finding thegame. Norman came in a few minutes after, bearing a whole deer upon hisshoulders--a glad sight that was--and, a short interval having passed, François's "hurrah" sounded upon their ears, and François himself wasseen coming up the valley loaded like a little donkey with two bunchesof large snow-white birds. The camp now exhibited a cheering sight. Such a variety was never seeneven in the larder of a palace kitchen. The ground was strewed withanimals like a dead menagerie. There were no less than a dozen kindsupon it! The hare-soup was now quite ready, and was accordingly served up byLucien in the best style. Lucien had dried a fresh "grist" of the tealeaves, and a cheering cup followed; and then the party all sat aroundtheir log-fire, while each of them detailed the history of hisexperience since parting with the others. François was the first to relate what had befallen him. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE JERFALCON AND THE WHITE GROUSE. "Mine, " began François, "was a bird adventure, as you all see--thoughwhat kind of birds I've shot, _I_ can't tell. One of them's a hawk, I'msure; but it's a _white_ hawk, and that I never saw before. The rest, Isuppose, are _white_ partridges. Everything appears to be white here. What are they, Luce?" "You are right about this first, " answered Lucien, taking up one of thebirds which François had brought back with him, and which was white allbut a few spots of clove-brown upon its back. "This is a hawk, as youmay tell, by its appearance, or rather I should say a 'falcon, ' for youmust know there is a difference. " "What difference?" demanded François, with some eagerness of manner. "Why the principal difference is the formation of their beaks or bills. The bills of the true falcons are stronger, and have a notch in thelower mandible answering to a tooth in the upper one. Their nostrils, too, are differently formed. But another point of distinction is foundin their habits. Both feed on warm-blooded animals, and neither will eatcarrion. In this respect the hawks and falcons are alike. Both taketheir prey upon the wing; but herein lies the difference. The hawkscapture it by skimming along horizontally or obliquely, and picking itup as they pass; whereas the true falcons 'pounce' down upon it fromabove, and in a line nearly vertical. " "Then this must be a true falcon, " interrupted François, "for I saw thegentleman do that very thing; and beautifully he did it, too. " "It is a falcon, " continued Lucien; "and of the many species of hawkswhich inhabit North America--over twenty in all--it is one of theboldest and handsomest. I don't wonder you never saw it before; for itis truly a bird of the Northern regions, and does not come so far southas the territory of the United States, much less into Louisiana. It isfound in North Europe, Greenland, and Iceland, and has been seen as farnorth on both continents as human beings have travelled. It is known bythe name of 'jerfalcon, ' or 'gyrfalcon, ' but its zoological name is_Falco Islandicus_. " "The Indians here, " interposed Norman, "call it by a name that means'winter bird, ' or 'winterer'--I suppose, because it is one of the fewthat stay in these parts all the year round, and is therefore oftennoticed by them in winter time. The traders sometimes call it the'speckled partridge-hawk, ' for there are some of them more spotted thanthis one is. " "True, " said Lucien; "the young ones are nearly of a brown colour, andthey first become spotted or mottled after a year or two. They areseveral years old before they get the white plumage, and very fewindividuals are seen of a pure white all over, though there are somewithout a spot. " "Yes, " continued the naturalist, "it is the jerfalcon; and those otherbirds which you call 'white partridges, ' are the very creatures uponwhich it preys. So you have killed both the tyrant and his victims. Theyare not partridges though, but grouse--that species known as 'willowgrouse. '" And as Lucien said this, he began to handle the birds, which were of abeautiful white all over, with the exception of the tail feathers. Theselast were pitch-black. "Ho!" exclaimed Lucien, in some surprise, "you have two kinds here! Werethey all together when you shot them?" "No, " answered François; "one I shot along with the hawk out in the openground. All the others I killed upon a tree in a piece of woods that Ifell in with. There's no difference between them that I can see. " "But I can, " said Lucien, "although I acknowledge they all look verymuch alike. Both are feathered to the toes--both have the black feathersin the tail--and the bills of both are black; but if you observeclosely, this kind--the willow-grouse--has the bill much stronger andless flattened. Besides, it is a larger bird than the other, which is'the rock-grouse. ' Both are sometimes, though erroneously, called'ptarmigan;' but they are not the true ptarmigan--such as exist in NorthEurope--though these last are also to be met with in the Northern partsof America. The ptarmigan are somewhat larger than either of thesekinds, but in other respects differ but little from them. "The habits of the 'rock' and 'willow' grouse are very similar. They areboth birds of the snowy region, and are found as far north as has beenexplored. The willow-grouse in winter keep more among the trees, and areoftener met with in wooded countries; whereas the others like best tolive in the open ground, and, from your statement, it appears you foundeach kind in its favourite haunt. " "Just so, " said François. "After leaving here, I kept down the valley, and was just crossing an open piece of high ground, when I espied thewhite hawk, or falcon as you call it, hovering in the air as I'd oftenseen hawks do. Well, I stopped and hid behind a rock, thinking I mighthave a chance to put a few drops into him. All at once he appeared tostand still in the air, and, then closing his wings, shot down like anarrow. Just then I heard a loud '_whur-r-r_, ' and up started a wholecovey of white partridges--grouse, I should say--the same as this youcall the 'rock-grouse. ' I saw that the hawk had missed the whole ofthem, and I marked them as they flew off. "They pitched about a hundred yards or so, and then went plunge underthe snow--every one of them making a hole for itself just like where onehad poked their foot in! I guess, boys, this looked funny enough. Ithought I would be sure to get a shot at some of these grouse as theycame out again; so I walked straight up to the holes they had made, andstood waiting. I still saw the hawk hovering in the air, about anhundred yards ahead of me. "I was considering whether I ought to go farther on, and tramp the birdsout of the snow; for I believed, of course, they were still under theplace where the holes were. All at once I noticed a movement on thecrust of the snow right under where the hawk was flying, and then thatindividual shot down to the spot, and disappeared under the snow! At thesame instant, the crust broke in several places, and up came the grouseone after another, and whirred off out of sight, without giving me anysort of a chance. The hawk, however, had not come up yet; and I ranforward, determined to take him as soon as he should make hisappearance. When I had got within shooting distance, up he fluttered tothe surface, and--what do you think?--he had one of the grousestruggling in his claws! I let him have the right barrel, and both heand grousy were knocked dead as a couple of door-nails! "I thought I might fall in with the others again; and kept on in thedirection they had taken, which brought me at last to a piece ofwoodland consisting of birches and willow-trees. As I was walking alongthe edge of this, I noticed one of the willows, at some distance off, covered with great white things, that at first I took for flakes ofsnow; but then I thought it curious that none of the other trees had thesame upon them. As I came a little nearer, I noticed one of the thingsmoving, and then I saw they were birds, and very like the same I hadjust seen, and was then in search of. So I crept in among the trees;and, after some dodging, got within beautiful shooting distance, andgave them both barrels. There, you see the result!" Here François triumphantly pointed to the pile of birds, which in all, with the jerfalcon, counted four brace and a half. One was the rock-grouse, which the falcon had itself killed, and theothers were willow-grouse, as Lucien had stated. François now remainedsilent, while Basil related his day's adventure. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE HARE, THE LYNX, AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE. "Frank, " began he, "has called his 'a bird adventure. ' I might give minesomewhat of the same title, for there was a bird mixed up with it--thenoblest of all birds--the eagle. But you shall hear it. "On leaving the camp, I went, as you all know, up the valley. Aftertravelling for a quarter of a mile or so, I came upon a wide openbottom, where there were some scattered willows and clumps of dwarfbirch-trees. As Luce had told me that such are the favourite food of theAmerican hare, or, as we call it in Louisiana, 'rabbit, ' I looked outfor the sign of one, and, sure enough, I soon came upon a track, which Iknew to be that of 'puss. ' It was fresh enough, and I followed it. Itkept me meandering about for a long while, till at last I saw that ittook a straight course for some thick brushwood, with two or three lowbirches growing out of it. "As I made sure of finding the game there, I crept forward very quietly, holding Marengo in the leash. But the hare was not in the brush; and, after tramping all through it, I again noticed the track where she hadgone out on the opposite side. I was about starting forth to follow it, when all at once an odd-looking creature made its appearance rightbefore me. It was that fellow there!" And Basil pointed to the lynx. "Ithought at first sight, " continued he, "it was our Louisiana wild cat orbay lynx, as Luce calls it, for it is very like our cat; but I saw itwas nearly twice as big, and more greyish in the fur. Well, when I firstsighted the creature, it was about an hundred yards off. "It hadn't seen me, though, for it was not running away, but skulkingalong slowly--nearly crosswise to the course of the hare's track--andlooking in a different direction to that in which I was. I was wellscreened behind the bushes, and that, no doubt, prevented it fromnoticing me. At first I thought of running forward, and setting Marengoafter it. Then I determined on staying where I was, and watching it awhile. Perhaps it may come to a stop, reflected I, and let me creepwithin shot. I remained, therefore, crouching among the bushes, and keptthe dog at my feet. "As I continued to watch the cat, I saw that, instead of following astraight line, it was moving in a circle! "The diameter of this circle was not over an hundred yards; and in avery short while the animal had got once round the circumference, andcame back to where I had first seen it. It did not stop there, butcontinued on, though not in its old tracks. It still walked in a circle, but a much smaller one than before. Both, however, had a common centre;and, as I noticed that the animal kept its eyes constantly turnedtowards the centre, I felt satisfied that in that place would be foundthe cause of its strange manoeuvring. I looked to the centre. At first Icould see nothing--at least nothing that might be supposed to attractthe cat. There was a very small bush of willows, but they were thin. Icould see distinctly through them, and there was no creature there, either in the bush or around it. The snow lay white up to the roots ofthe willows, and I thought that a mouse could hardly have found shelteramong them, without my seeing it from where I stood. "Still I could not explain the odd actions of the lynx, upon any otherprinciple than that it was in the pursuit of game; and I looked again, and carefully examined every inch of the ground as my eyes passed overit. This time I discovered what the animal was after. Close into thewillows appeared two little parallel streaks of a dark colour, justrising above the surface of the snow. I should not have noticed them hadthere not been two of them, and these slanting in the same direction. They had caught my eyes before, but I had taken them for the points ofbroken willows. I now saw that they were the ears of some animal, and Ithought that once or twice they moved slightly while I was regardingthem. "After looking at them steadily for a time, I made out the shape of alittle head underneath. It was white, but there was a round dark spot inthe middle, which I knew to be an eye. There was no body to be seen. That was under the snow, but it was plain enough that what I saw was thehead of a hare. At first I supposed it to be a Polar hare--such as wehad just killed--but the tracks I had followed were not those of thePolar hare. Then I remembered that the 'rabbit' of the United Statesalso turns white in the winter of the Northern regions. This, then, mustbe the American rabbit, thought I. "Of course my reflections did not occupy all the time I have taken indescribing them. Only a moment or so. All the while the lynx was movinground and round the circle, but still getting nearer to the hare thatappeared eagerly to watch it. I remembered how Norman had manoeuvred toget within shot of the Polar hare; and I now saw the very same _ruse_being practised by a dumb creature, that is supposed to have no otherguide than instinct. But I had seen the 'bay lynx' of Louisiana do some'dodges' as cunning as that, --such as claying his feet to make thehounds lose the scent, and, after running backwards and forwards upon afallen log, leap into the tops of trees, and get off in that way. " "Believing that his Northern cousin was just as artful as himself" (hereBasil looked significantly at the "Captain, ") "I did not so much wonderat the performance I now witnessed. Nevertheless, I felt a greatcuriosity to see it out. But for this curiosity I could have shot thelynx every time he passed me on the nearer edge of the circle. Round andround he went, then, until he was not twenty feet from the hare, that, strange to say, seemed to regard this the worst of her enemies more withwonder than fear. The lynx at length stopped suddenly, brought his fourfeet close together, arched his back like an angry cat, and then withone immense bound, sprang forward upon his victim. "The hare had only time to leap out of her form, and the second springof the lynx brought him right upon the top of her. I could hear thechild-like scream which the American rabbit always utters when thusseized; but the cloud of snow-spray raised above the spot prevented mefor a while from seeing either lynx or hare. The scream was stifled in amoment, and when the snow-spray cleared off, I saw that the lynx heldthe hare under his paws, and that 'puss' was quite dead. "I was considering how I might best steal up within shooting distance, when, all at once, I heard another scream of a very different sort. Atthe same time a dark shadow passed over the snow. I looked up, andthere, within fifty yards of the ground, a great big bird was wheelingabout. I knew it to be an eagle from its shape; and at first I fanciedit was a young one of the white-headed kind--for, as you are aware, these do not have either the white head or tail until they are severalyears old. Its immense size, however, showed that it could not be one ofthese. It must be the great _'golden' eagle_ of the Rocky Mountains, thought I. "When I first noticed it, I fancied that it had been after the rabbit;and, seeing the latter pounced upon by another preying creature, haduttered its scream at being thus disappointed of its prey. I expected, therefore, to see it fly off. To my astonishment it broke suddenly outof the circles in which it had been so gracefully wheeling, and, withanother scream wilder than before, darted down towards the lynx! "The latter, on hearing the first cry of the eagle, had started, droppedhis prey, and looked up. In the eagle he evidently recognised anantagonist, for his back suddenly became arched, his fur bristled up, his short tail moved quickly from side to side, and he stood withglaring eyes, and claws ready to receive the attack. "As the eagle came down, its legs and claws were thrown forward, and Icould then tell it was not a bald eagle, nor the great "Washingtoneagle, " nor yet a fishing eagle of any sort, which both of these are. The fishing eagles, as Lucien had told me, _have always naked legs_, while those of the true eagles are more feathered. So were his, butbeyond the feathers I could see his great curved talons, as he struckforward at the lynx. He evidently touched and wounded the animal, butthe wound only served to make it more angry: and I could hear it purringand spitting like a tom-cat, only far louder. "The eagle again mounted back into the air, but soon wheeled round andshot down a second time. This time the lynx sprang forward to meet it, and I could hear the concussion of their bodies as they came together. Ithink the eagle must have been crippled, so that it could not fly upagain, for the fight from that time was carried on upon the ground. Thelynx seemed anxious to grasp some part of his antagonist's body--and attimes I thought he had succeeded--but then he was beaten off again bythe bird, that fought furiously with wings, beak, and talons. " [Illustration: THE LYNX AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE. ] "The lynx now appeared to be the attacking party, as I saw himrepeatedly spring forward at the eagle, while the latter always receivedhim upon its claws, lying with its back upon the snow. Both fur andfeathers flew in every direction, and sometimes the combatants were socovered with the snow-spray that I could see neither of them. "I watched the conflict for several minutes, until it occurred to me, that my best time to get near enough for a shot was just while they werein the thick of it, and not likely to heed me. I therefore movedsilently out of the bushes; and, keeping Marengo in the string, creptforward. I had but the one bullet to give them, and with that I couldnot shoot both; but I knew that the quadruped was eatable, and, as I wasnot sure about the bird, I very easily made choice, and shot the lynx. To my surprise the eagle did not fly off, and I now saw that one of itswings was disabled! He was still strong enough, however, to scratchMarengo severely before the latter could master him. As to the lynx, hehad been roughly handled. His skin was torn in several places, and oneof his eyes, as you see, regularly 'gouged out. '" Here Basil ended his narration; and after an interval, during which somefresh wood was chopped and thrown upon the fire, Norman, in turn, commenced relating what had befallen him. CHAPTER XXXV. THE "ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU. "There wasn't much 'adventure' in my day's sport, " said he, "though Imight call it a 'bird-adventure' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird Ishouldn't have had it. I shot a deer--that's all. But maybe it would becurious for you to know how I came to find the animal, so I'll tell you. "The first thing I did after leaving here was to climb the hillyonder"--here Norman pointed to a long hill that sloped up from theopposite shore of the lake, and which was the direction he had taken, asBasil and François had gone right and left. I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had reached the top ofthe hill. There I got a good view of the country ahead. I saw it wasvery rocky, without a stick of timber, and did not look very promisingfor game. "It's no use going that way, " I says to myself; "I'll keepalong the ridge, above where Frank's gone. He may drive some varmint outof the hollow, and I'll get a crack at it, as it comes over the hill. "I was about to turn to the left when I heard the skreek of a bird awayahead of me. I looked in that direction; and, sure enough, saw onewheeling about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with which thecountry was covered. "Now it's a mighty curious bird that I saw. It's a sort of an owl, but, I should say myself, there's a sprinkling of the hawk in it--for it's asmuch like the one as the other. " "No doubt, " interrupted Lucien, "it was one of the day owls of theseNorthern regions, some of which approach very near to the hawks, both inshape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the fact of the longsummer day--of weeks in duration--within the Arctic circle, requiringthem to hunt for their prey, just as hawks do; and therefore Nature hasgifted them with certain peculiarities that make them resemble thesebirds. They want the very broad faces and large tufted heads of the trueowls; besides the ears, which in the latter are remarkable for theirsize, and also for being operculated, or with lids, in the former arenot much larger than in other birds of prey. The small hawk-owl which isaltogether a Northern bird, is one of this kind. " "Very well, " continued Norman, "what you say may be very true, cousinLuce; I only know that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty curiouslittle creature. It ain't bigger than a pigeon, and is of a mottledbrown colour; but what I call it curious for is this:--Whenever it seesany creature passing from place to place, it mounts up into the air, andhovers above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like the squallingof a child--and that's anything but agreeable. It does so, not only inthe neighbourhood of its nest--like the plover and some other birds--butit will sometimes follow a travelling party for hours together, and formiles across the country. " From this circumstance the Indians of these parts call it the "alarmbird, " or "bird of warning, " because it often makes them aware of theapproach either of their enemies or of strangers. Sometimes it alarmsand startles the game, while the hunter is crawling up to it; and I haveknown it to bother myself for a while of a day, when I was after grouse. It's a great favourite with the Indians though--as it often guides themto deer, or musk-oxen, by its flying and screaming above where theseanimals are feeding. Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, from the movements of thebird, that there must be something among the rocks. I couldn't tellwhat, but I hoped it would turn out to be some creature that waseatable; so I changed my intention, and struck out for the place whereit was. It was a good half mile from the hill, and it cost me considerableclambering over the rocks, before I reached the ground. I thought to getnear enough to see what it was, without drawing the bird upon myself, and I crouched from hummock to hummock; but the sharp-eyed creaturecaught sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I kept on withoutnoticing it; but as I was obliged to go round some large rocks, I lostthe direction, and soon found myself wandering back into my own trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird should leave me, and flyback to whatever had first set it a-going. In order that it might do so, I crept in under a big stone that jutted out, and lay quiet a bit, watching it. It soon flew off, and commenced wheeling about in the air, not more than three hundred yards from where I lay. This time I tookgood bearings, and then went on. I did not care for the bird to guide meany longer, for I observed there was an open spot ahead, and I was surethat there I could see something. And sure enough I did. On peepinground the end of a rock, I spied a herd of about fifty deer. They were reindeer, of course, as there are no others upon the 'BarrenGrounds, ' and I saw they were all does--for at this season the buckskeep altogether in the woods. Some of them were pawing the snow to getat the moss, while others were standing by the rocks, and tearing offthe lichens with their teeth. It so happened that I had the wind ofthem, else they would have scented me and made off, for I was within ahundred yards of the nearest. I was not afraid of their taking fright, so long as they could only see part of my body--for these deer are sostupid, or rather so curious, that almost anything will draw them withinshot. Knowing this, I practised a trick that had often helped me before; andthat was to move the barrel of my gun, up and down, with the same sortof motion as the deer make with their horns, when rubbing their necksagainst a rock or tree. If I'd had a set of antlers, it would have beenall the better; but the other answered well enough. It happened theanimals were not very wild, as, likely, they hadn't been hunted for agood while. I bellowed at the same time, --for I know how to imitatetheir call--and, in less than a minute's time, I got several of themwithin range. Then I took aim, and knocked one over, and the rest ranoff. "That, " said Norman, "ended _my_ adventure--unless you call thecarrying a good hundred pounds weight of deer-meat all the way back tocamp part of it. If so, I can assure you that it was by far the mostunpleasant part. " Here Norman finished his narration, and a conversation was carried onupon the subject of reindeer, or, as these animals are termed, inAmerica, "caribou. " Lucien said that the reindeer is found in the Northern regions of Europeand Asia as well as in America, but that there were several varieties ofthem, and perhaps there were different species. Those of Lapland aremost celebrated, because they not only draw sledges, but also furnishfood, clothing, and many other commodities for their owners. In thenorth of Asia, the Tungusians have a much larger sort, which they rideupon; and the Koreki, who dwell upon the borders of Kamschatka, possessvast herds of reindeer--some rich individuals owing as many as ten ortwenty thousand! It is not certain that the reindeer of America is exactly the same aseither of the kinds mentioned; and indeed in America itself there aretwo very distinct kinds--perhaps a third. Two kinds are well known, thatdiffer from each other in size, and also in habits. One is the "BarrenGround caribou, " and the other, the "Woodland caribou. " The former isone of the smallest of the deer kind--the bucks weighing little over onehundred pounds. As its name implies, it frequents the Barren Grounds, although in winter it also seeks the shelter of wooded tracts. Upon theBarren Grounds, and the desolate shores and islands of the Arctic Sea, it is the only kind of deer found, except at one or two points, as themouth of the Mackenzie River--which happens to be a wooded country, andthere the moose also is met with. Nature seems to have gifted the Barren Ground caribou with such tastesand habits, that a fertile country and a genial clime would not be apleasant home for it. It seems adapted to the bleak, sterile countriesin which it dwells, and where its favourite food--the mosses andlichens--is found. In the short summer of the Arctic regions, it rangesstill farther north; and its traces have been found wherever theNorthern navigators have gone. It must remain among the icy islands ofthe Arctic Sea until winter be considerably advanced, or until the seais so frozen as to allow it to get back to the shores of the continent. The "Woodland caribou" is a larger variety--a Woodland doe being aboutas big as a Barren Ground buck--although the horns of the latter speciesare larger and more branching than those of the former. The Woodlandkind are found around the shores of Hudson's Bay, and in other woodedtracts that lie in the southern parts of the fur countries--into whichthe Barren Ground caribou never penetrates. They also migrate annually, but, strange to say, their spring migrations are southward, while, atthe same season, their cousins of the Barren Grounds are making theirway northward to the shores of the Arctic Sea. This is a very singulardifference in their habits, and along with their difference in bulk, form, &c. , entitles them to be ranked as separate species of deer. The flesh of the Woodland caribou is not esteemed so good an article offood as that of the other; and, as it inhabits a district where manylarge animals are found, it is not considered of so much importance inthe economy of human life. The "Barren Ground caribou, " on the otherhand, is an indispensable animal to various tribes of Indians, as wellas to the Esquimaux. Without it, these people would be unable to dwellwhere they do; and although they have not domesticated it, and trainedit to draught, like the Laplanders, it forms their main source ofsubsistence, and there is no part of its body which they do not turn tosome useful purpose. Of its horns they form their fish-spears and hooks, and, previous to theintroduction of iron by the Europeans, their ice-chisels and variousother utensils. Their scraping or currying knives are made from thesplit shin-bones. The skins make their clothing, tent-covers, beds, andblankets. The raw hide, cleared of the hair and cut into thongs, servesfor snares, bow-strings, net-lines, and every other sort of ropes. Thefiner thongs make netting for snow-shoes--an indispensable article tothese people--and of these thongs fish-nets are also woven; while thetendons of the muscles, when split, serve for fine sewing-thread. Besides these uses, the flesh of the caribou is the food of many tribes, Indians and Esquimaux, for most of the year; and, indeed, it may belooked upon as their staple article of subsistence. There is hardly any part of it (even the horns, when soft) that is noteaten and relished by them. Were it not for the immense herds of thesecreatures that roam over the country, they would soon beexterminated--for they are easily approached, and the Indians have verylittle difficulty, during the summer season, in killing as many as theyplease. Norman next gave a description of the various modes of hunting thecaribou practised by the Indians and Esquimaux; such as driving theminto a pound, snaring them, decoying and shooting them with arrows, andalso a singular way which the Esquimaux have of taking them in apit-trap built in the snow. "The sides of the trap, " said he, "are built of slabs of snow, cut as ifto make a snow-house. An inclined plane of snow leads to the entrance ofthe pit, which is about five feet deep, and large enough within to holdseveral deer. The exterior of the trap is banked up on all sides withsnow; but so steep are these sides left, that the deer can only get upby the inclined plane which leads to the entrance. A great slab of snowis then placed over the mouth of the pit, and revolves on two axles ofwood. This slab will carry the deer until it has passed the line of theaxles, when its weight overbalances one side, and the animal isprecipitated into the pit. The slab then comes back into a horizontalposition as before, and is ready to receive another deer. The animalsare attracted by moss and lichens placed for them on the opposite sideof the trap--in such a way that they cannot be reached without crossingthe slab. In this sort of trap several deer are frequently caught duringa single day. " Norman knew another mode of hunting practised by the Esquimaux, andproposed that the party should proceed in search of the herd upon thefollowing day; when, should they succeed in finding the deer, he wouldshow them how the thing was done; and he had no doubt of their beingable to make a good hunt of it. All agreed to this proposal, as it wouldbe of great importance to them to kill a large number of these animals. It is true they had now provision enough to serve for several days--butthere were perhaps months, not days, to be provided for. They believedthat they could not be far from the wooded countries near the banks ofthe Mackenzie, as some kinds of the animal they had met with were onlyto be found near timber during the winter season. But what of that? Evenon the banks of the great river itself they might not succeed inprocuring game. They resolved, therefore, to track the herd of deerwhich Norman had seen; and for this purpose they agreed to make a stayof some days at their present camp. CHAPTER XXXVI. A BATTLE WITH WOLVES. Next morning they were up by early daybreak. The days were now only afew hours in length, for it was mid-winter, and they were but three orfour degrees south of the Arctic circle. Of course they would requireall the day for the intended hunt of the caribou, as they might have tofollow the track of the herd for many miles before coming up with theanimals. Lucien was to remain by the camp, as it would never do to leavethe animals they had already killed without some guard. To have hungthem on the trees, would have put them out of the reach of both wolvesand foxes; but the lynx and wolverene are both tree-climbers, and couldeasily have got at them there. They had reason to believe there were wolverenes about; for these fierceand destructive beasts are found in every part of the furcountries--wherever there exist other animals upon which they can prey. Eagles, hawks, and owls, moreover, would have picked the partridges fromthe branches of the trees without difficulty. One proposed burying themin the snow; but Norman assured them that the Arctic foxes could scentthem out, and dig them up in a few minutes. Then it was suggested tocover them under a pile of stones, as there were plenty of these lyingabout. To this Norman also objected, saying that the wolverene could pull offany stones they were able to pile upon them--as this creature in itsfore-legs possesses more than the strength of a man. Besides, it was notunlikely that one of the great brown bears, --a species entirelydifferent from either the black or grizzly bears, and which is only metwith on the Barren Grounds--might come ranging that way; and he couldsoon toss over any stone-heap they might build. On the whole it wasbetter that one of the four should remain by the camp; and Lucien, whocared less about hunting than any of them, willingly agreed to be theone. Their arrangements were soon completed, and the three hunters set out. They did not go straight towards the place where Norman had found thedeer upon the preceding day, but took a cross-cut over the hills. Thiswas by Norman's advice, who guided himself by the wind--which had notchanged since the previous day. He knew that the caribou in feedingalways travel _against_ the wind; and he expected therefore to find themsomewhere in the direction from which it was blowing. Following acourse, which angled with that of the wind, they kept on, expecting soonto strike the trail of the herd. Meanwhile Lucien, left to himself, was not idle. He had to prepare theflesh of the different animals, so as to render it fit to be carriedalong. Nothing was required farther than to skin and cut them up. Neither salting nor drying was necessary, for the flesh of one and allhad got frozen as stiff as a stone, and in this way it would keep duringthe whole winter. The wolf was skinned with the others, but this wasbecause his fine skin was wanted. His flesh was not intended to beeaten--although only a day or two before any one of the party would havebeen glad of such a meal. Not only the Indians, but the voyageurs and fur-traders, whilejourneying through these inhospitable wilds, are often but too delightedto get a dinner of wolf-meat. The ermine and the little mouse were theonly other creatures of the collection that were deemed uneatable. As tothe Arctic fox and the lynx, the flesh of both these creatures is highlyesteemed, and is white and tender, almost as much so as the hares uponwhich they feed. The snowy owl too, the jerfalcon, and the eagle, werelooked upon as part of the larder--the flesh of all being almost as goodas that of the grouse. Had it been a fishing eagle--such as the bald-head--the case would havebeen different, for these last, on account of their peculiar food, tasterank and disagreeable. But there was no danger of their falling in witha fishing eagle at that place. These can only exist where there is_open_ water. Hence the cause of their annual migrations to thesouthward, when the lakes and rivers of the fur countries become coveredwith their winter ice. Though Lucien remained quietly at the camp he was not without adventuresto keep him from wearying. While he was singeing his grouse his eyehappened to fall upon the shadow of a bird passing over the snow. Onlooking up he saw a very large bird, nearly as big as an eagle, flyingsoftly about in wide circles. It was of a mottled-brown colour; but itsshort neck and great round head told the naturalist at a glance that itwas a bird of the owl genus. It was the largest of the kind that Lucienhad ever seen, and was, in fact, the largest known in America--the"great cinereous owl. " Now and then it would alight upon a rock or tree, at the distance of an hundred yards or so from the camp; where it wouldwatch the operations of Lucien, evidently inclined to help him indissecting some of the animals. Whenever he took up his gun and tried toapproach within shot, it would rise into the air again, always keepingout of range. Lucien was provoked at this--for he wished, as anaturalist, to examine the bird, and for this purpose to kill it, ofcourse; but the owl seemed determined that he should do no such thing. At length, however, Lucien resolved upon a plan to decoy the creaturewithin shot. Taking up one of the grouse, he flung it out upon the snowsome thirty yards from the fire. No sooner had he done so, than the owl, at sight of the tempting morsel, left aside both its shyness andprudence, and sailed gently forward; then, hovering for a moment overthe ground, hooked the grouse upon its claws, and was about to carry itoff, when a bullet from Lucien's rifle, just in the "nick of time, " puta stop to its further flight, and dropped the creature dead upon thesnow. Lucien picked it up and brought it to the camp, where he passed sometime in making notes upon its size, colour, and other peculiarities. Theowl measured exactly two feet in length from the point of the bill tothe end of the tail; and its "alar spread, " as naturalists term it, wasfull five feet in extent. It was of a clove-brown colour, beautifullymottled with white, and its bill and eyes were of a bright gambogeyellow. Like all of its tribe that winter in the Arctic wilds, it wasfeathered to the toes. Lucien reflected that this species lives more inthe woods than the "great snowy owl, " and, as he had heard, is neverfound far out on the Barren Grounds during winter. This fact, therefore, was a pleasant one to reflect upon, for it confirmed the testimony whichthe travellers had already obtained from several of the other creaturesthey had killed--that is to say, that they must be in the neighbourhoodof some timbered country. Lucien had hardly finished his examination of the owl when he was calledupon to witness another incident of a still more exciting nature. Ahill, as already mentioned, or rather a ridge, rose up from the oppositeshore of the lake by which the camp was pitched. The declivity of thishill fronted the lake, and sloped gradually back from the edge of thewater. Its whole face was smooth and treeless, covered with a layer ofpure snow. The camp commanded a full view of it up to its very crest. As Lucien was sitting quietly by the fire a singular sound, or rathercontinuation of sounds, fell upon his ear. It somewhat resembled thebaying of hounds at a distance; and at first he was inclined to believethat it was Marengo on a view-hunt after the deer. On listening moreattentively, however, he observed that the sounds came from more thanone animal; and also, that they bore more resemblance to the howling ofwolves than the deep-toned bay of a bloodhound. This, in fact, it was;for the next moment a caribou shot up over the crest of the hill, andwas seen stretching at full gallop down the smooth declivity in thedirection of the lake. Not twenty paces in its rear followed a string ofhowling animals, evidently in pursuit of it. There were a dozen of themin all, and they were running exactly like hounds upon the "viewholloa. " Lucien saw at a glance they were wolves. Most of them weredappled-grey and white, while some were of a pure white colour. Any oneof them was nearly as large as the caribou itself; for in theseparts--around Great Slave Lake--the wolf grows to his largest size. The caribou gained upon them as it bounded down the slope of the hill. It was evidently making for the lake, believing, no doubt, that theblack ice upon its surface was water, and that in that element it wouldhave the advantage of its pursuers, for the caribou is a splendidswimmer. Nearly all deer when hunted take to the water--to throw off thedogs, or escape from men--and to this habit the reindeer makes noexception. Down the hill swept the chase, Lucien having a full view both ofpursuers and pursued. The deer ran boldly. It seemed to have gatheredfresh confidence at sight of the lake, while the same object caused itspursuers a feeling of disappointment. They knew they were no match for acaribou in the water, as no doubt many a one had escaped them in thatelement. It is not likely, however, that they made reflections of thissort. There was but little time. From the moment of their appearanceupon the crest of the hill till the chase arrived at the edge of thelake, was but a few seconds. On reaching the shore the caribou made nostop; but bounded forward in the same way as if it had been springingupon water. Most likely it expected to hear a plunge; but, instead ofthat, its hoofs came down upon the hard ice; and, by the impulse thusgiven, the animal shot out with the velocity of a skater. Strange to say, it still kept its feet; but, now seemingly overcome bysurprise, and knowing the advantage its pursuers would have over it uponthe slippery ice, it began to plunge and flounder, and once or twicecame to its knees. The hungry pursuers appeared to recognise theiradvantage at once, for their howling opened with a fresh burst, and theyquickened their pace. Their sharp claws enabled them to gallop over theice at top speed; and one large brute that led the pack soon came upwith the deer, sprang upon it, and bit it in the flank. This brought thedeer upon its haunches, and at once put an end to the chase. The animalwas hardly down upon the ice, when the foremost wolves coming upprecipitated themselves upon its body, and began to devour it. It was about the middle of the lake where the caribou had beenovertaken. At the time it first reached the ice, Lucien had laid hold ofhis rifle and run forward in order to meet the animal half-way, and, ifpossible, get a shot at it. Now that the creature was killed, hecontinued on with the design of driving off the wolves, and securing thecarcass of the deer for himself. He kept along the ice until he waswithin less than twenty yards of the pack, when, seeing that the fiercebrutes had torn the deer to pieces, and perceiving, moreover, that theyexhibited no fear of himself, he began to think he might be in danger byadvancing any nearer. Perhaps a shot from his rifle would scatter them, and without further reflection he raised the piece, and fired. One ofthe wolves kicked over upon the ice, and lay quite dead; but the others, to Lucien's great surprise, instead of being frightened off, immediatelysprang upon their dead companion, and commenced tearing and devouringit, just as they had done the deer! The sight filled Lucien with alarm; which was increased at seeingseveral of the wolves--that had been beaten by the others from thequarry--commence making demonstrations towards himself! Lucien nowtrembled for his safety, and no wonder. He was near the middle of thelake upon slippery ice. To attempt running back to the camp would behazardous; the wolves could overtake him before he had got half-way, andhe felt certain that any signs of fear on his part would be the signalfor the fierce brutes to assail him. For some moments he was irresolute how to act. He had commenced loadinghis gun, but his fingers were numbed with the cold, and it was a goodwhile before he could get the piece ready for a second fire. Hesucceeded at length. He did not fire then, but resolved to keep thecharge for a more desperate crisis. Could he but reach the camp therewere trees near it, and one of these he might climb. This was his onlyhope, in case the wolves attacked him, and he knew it was. Instead ofturning and running for this point, he began to back for it stealthilyand with caution, keeping his front all the while towards the wolves, and his eyes fixed upon them. He had not got many yards, when he perceived to his horror, that thewhole pack were in motion, and _coming after him_! It was a terriblesight, and Lucien seeing that by retreating he only drew them on, stopped and held his rifle in a threatening attitude. The wolves werenow within twenty yards of him; but, instead of moving any longerdirectly towards him, they broke into two lines, swept past on oppositesides of him, and then circling round, met each other in his rear. _Hisretreat was cut off!_ He now stood upon the ice with the fierce wolves forming a ring aroundhim, whose diameter was not the six lengths of his gun, and every momentgrowing shorter and shorter. The prospect was appalling. It would havecaused the stoutest heart to quail, and Lucien's was terrified. Heshouted at the top of his voice. He fired his rifle at the nearest. Thebrute fell, but the others showed no symptoms of fear; they only grewmore furious. Lucien clubbed his gun--the last resort in such cases--andlaid around him with all his might; but he was in danger of slippingupon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once down he never would have risen again, for his fierce assailantswould have sprung upon him like tigers. As it was, he felt but littlehope. He believed himself lost. The teeth of the ferocious monstersgleamed under his eyes. He was growing weaker and weaker, yet still hebattled on, and swept his gun around him with the energy of despair. Such a struggle could not have continued much longer. Lucien's fatewould have been sealed in a very few minutes more, had not reliefarrived in some shape or other. But it did come. A loud shout was heardupon the hill; and Lucien, glancing suddenly towards it, saw severalforms rushing downward to the lake! It was the hunting party returned, and in a moment more they were crossing the ice to his rescue. Luciengaining confidence fought with fresh vigour. The wolves busy in theirattack had either not heard or were regardless of the new-comers; butthe "crack, crack" of the guns--repeated no less than four times--andthen the nearer reports of pistols, made a speedy impression upon thebrutes, and in a short while half their number were seen tumbling andkicking upon the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous howls, took toflight, and soon disappeared from the valley; and Lucien, half dead withfatigue, staggered into the arms of his deliverers. No less than seven of the wolves were killed in the affray--two of whichLucien had shot himself. One or two were only wounded, but so badly, that they could not get away; and these were handed over to the tendermercies of Marengo, who amused himself for some time after by worryingthem to death. The hunting party had made a good day of it. They had fallen in with thecaribou, and had killed three of them. These they were bringing to camp, but had dropped them upon the hill, on perceiving the perilous positionof Lucien. They now went back, and having carried the deer to theircamping-place, were soon engaged in the pleasant occupation of eating asavoury dinner. Lucien soon recovered from his fright and fatigue, andamused his companions by giving an account of the adventures that hadbefallen him in their absence. CHAPTER XXXVII. END OF THE "VOYAGE. " Our party remained several days at this place, until they had made afresh stock of "pemmican" from the flesh of the caribou, several more ofwhich they succeeded in killing; and then, arranging everything anew, and taking with them such skins as they wanted, they continued theirjourney. They had two days' hard travelling through a rocky mountainous country, where they could not find a stick of wood to cook their meals with, andwere exposed to cold more than at any other place. Both François andLucien had their faces frost-bitten; but they were cured by Norman, whoprevented them from going near a fire until he had well rubbed the partswith soft snow. The rocks through which they passed were in many places covered with the_tripe de roche_ of several species; but our voyageurs cared nothingabout it so long as their pemmican lasted, and of that each of them hadnearly as much as he could carry. In the most dreary part of the mountains they chanced upon a herd ofthose curious animals, the musk-oxen, and shot one of them; but the meattasted so rank, and smelt so strongly of musk, that the whole of it wasleft to the wolves, foxes, and other preying creatures of these parts. On the third day, after leaving their camp by the lake, a pleasantprospect opened before them. It was the valley of the Mackenzie, stretching to the west, and extending north and south as far as the eyecould reach, covered with forests of pine and poplar, and other largetrees. Of course the landscape was a winter one, as the river was boundup in ice, and the trees themselves were half-white with frozen snow;but after the dreary scenery of the barren grounds, even this appearedwarm and summer-like. There was no longer any danger they should bewithout a good fire to cook their dinners, or warm themselves at, and awooded country offers a better prospect of game. The sight, therefore, of a great forest was cheering; and ourtravellers, in high spirits, planted their tent upon the banks of thegreat Northern river. They had still many hundred miles to go beforearriving at their destination; but they determined to continue theirjourney without much delay, following the river as a guide. No more"near cuts" were to be taken in future. They had learned, from theirrecent experience, that "the shortest way across is sometimes thelongest way round, " and they resolved to profit by the lesson. I hope, boy reader, you too will remember it. After reaching the Mackenzie the voyageurs halted one day, and upon thenext commenced their journey down-stream. Sometimes they kept upon thebank, but at times, for a change, they travelled upon the ice of theriver. There was no danger of its giving way under them, for it wasmore than a foot in thickness, and would have supported a loaded wagonand horses, without even cracking. They were now drawing near the Arctic circle, and the days grew shorterand shorter as they advanced. But this did not much interfere with theirtravelling. The long nights of the Polar regions are not like those ofmore Southern latitudes. They are sometimes so clear, that one may readthe smallest print. What with the coruscations of the aurora borealis, and the cheerful gleaming of the Northern constellations, one may travelwithout difficulty throughout the livelong night. I am sure, my youngfriend, you have made good use of your globes, and need not be told thatthe length of both nights and days, as you approach the pole, dependsupon two things--the latitude of the place, and the season of the year;and were you to spend a whole year _leaning against the pole itself, (!)_ you would _live but one day and one night_--each of them six monthsin length. But no doubt you know all these things without my telling you of them, and you are impatient to hear not about that, but whether the youngvoyageurs safely reached the end of their journey. That question Ianswer briefly at once--they did. Some distance below the point where they had struck the Mackenzie, theyfell in with a winter encampment of Dog-rib Indians. Some of thesepeople had been to the Fort to trade; and Norman being known to them, heand his Southern cousins were received with much hospitality. All theirwants were provided for, as far as it lay in the power of these poorpeople to do; but the most valuable thing obtained from the Indians wasa full set of dogs and dog-sledges for the whole party. These werefurnished by the chief, upon the understanding that he should be paidfor them on his next visit to the Fort. Although the reindeer of North America are not trained to the sledge bythe Esquimaux and Indians, several kinds of dogs are; and a single pairof these faithful creatures will draw a full-grown man at a rate thatexceeds almost every other mode of travelling--steam excepted. When ourvoyageurs, therefore, flung away their snow-shoes, and, wrapped in theirskin cloaks, seated themselves snugly in their dog sledges, the fivehundred miles that separated them from the Fort were soon reduced tonothing; and one afternoon, four small sledges, each carrying a "youngvoyageur, " with a large bloodhound galloping in the rear, were seendriving up to the stockade fence surrounding the Fort. Before they had quite reached the gate, there was a general rush oftrappers, traders, voyageurs, _coureurs-des-bois_ and other _employés_, to reach them; and the next moment they were lost in the midst of thepeople who crowded out of the Fort to welcome them. This was their hourof happiness and joy. To me there is an hour of regret, and I hope, boy reader, to you aswell--the hour of our parting with the "YOUNG VOYAGEURS. " THE FOREST EXILES, OR ADVENTURES AMID THE WILDS OF THE AMAZON. CHAPTER I. THE BIGGEST WOOD IN THE WORLD. Boy Reader, I am told that you are not tired of my company. Is thistrue? "Quite true, dear Captain, --quite true!" That is your reply. You speak sincerely? I believe you do. In return, believe _me_, when I tell you I am not tired of yours; andthe best proof I can give is, that I have come once more to seek you. Ihave come to solicit the pleasure of your company, --not to an eveningparty, nor to a ball, nor to the Grand Opera, nor to the Crystal Palace, nor yet to the Zoological Gardens of Regent's Park, --no, but to thegreat zoological garden of Nature. I have come to ask you to accompanyme on another "campaign, "--another "grand journey" through the fields ofScience and Adventure. Will you go? "Most willingly--with you, dear Captain, anywhere. " Come with me, then. Again we turn our faces westward; again we cross the blue and billowyAtlantic; again we seek the shores of the noble continent of America. "What! to America again?" Ha! that is a large continent, and you need not fear that I am going totake you over old ground. No, fear not that! New scenes, await us; a new_fauna_, a new _flora_, --I might almost say, a new earth and a new sky! You shall have variety, I promise you, --a perfect contrast to the scenesof our last journey. Then, you remember, we turned our faces to the cold and icy North, --nowour path lies through the hot and sunny South. Then we lived in alog-hut, and closed every cranny to keep out the cold, --now, in ourcottage of palms and cane, we shall be but too glad to let the breezeplay through the open walls. Then we wrapped our bodies in thickfurs, --now we shall be content with the lightest garments. Then we werebitten by the frost--now we shall be bitten by the sand-flies, andmosquitoes, and bats, and snakes, and scorpions, and spiders, and stungby wasps, and centipedes, and great red ants! Trust me, you shall have achange! Perhaps you do not contemplate _such_ a change with any very livelyfeelings of pleasure. Come! do not be alarmed at the snakes, andscorpions, and centipedes! We shall find a cure for every bite--anantidote for every bane. Our new journey shall have its pleasures and advantages. Remember how ofold we shivered as we slept, coiled up in the corner of our dark log-hutand smothered in skins, --now we shall swing lightly in our nettedhammocks under the gossamer leaves of the palm-tree, or the featheryfrondage of the ferns. Then we gazed upon leaden skies, and at nightlooked upon the cold constellation of the Northern Bear;--now, we shallhave over us an azure canopy, and shall nightly behold the sparklingglories of the Southern Cross, still shining as bright as when Paul andhis little Virginia with loving eyes gazed upon it from their islandhome. In our last journey we toiled over bleak and barren wastes, acrossfrozen lakes, and marshes, and rivers;--now we shall pass under theshadows of virgin forests, and float lightly upon the bosom of broadmajestic streams, whose shores echo with the voices of living nature. Hitherto our travels have been upon the wide, open prairie, thetrackless plain of sand, the frozen lake, the thin scattering woods ofthe North, or the treeless snow-clad "Barrens. " Now we are about toenter a great forest, --a forest where the leaves never fade, where theflowers are always in bloom, --a forest where the woodman's axe has notyet echoed, where the colonist has hardly hewed out a singleclearing, --a vast primeval forest, --the largest in the world. How large, do you ask? I can hardly tell you. Are you thinking of Eppingor the New Forest? True, these are large woods, and have been larger atone time. But if you draw your ideas of a great forest from either ofthese you must prepare yourselves for a startling announcement--and thatis, that the forest through which I am going to take you is _as big asall Europe_! There is one place where a straight line might be drawnacross this forest that would measure the enormous length of twothousand six hundred miles! And there is a point in it from which acircle might be described, with a diameter of more than a thousandmiles, and the whole area included within the vast circumference wouldbe found covered with an unbroken forest! I need scarce tell you what forest I allude to, for there is none otherin the world of such dimensions--none to compare with that vast, trackless forest that covers the valley of the mighty Amazon! And what shall we see in travelling through this tree-covered expanse?Many a strange form of life--both vegetable and animal. We shall see thegiant "ceiba" tree, and the "zamang, " and the "caoba, " twined by hugeparasites almost as thick as their own trunks, and looking as thoughthey embraced but to crush them; the "juvia, " with its globe-shapedfruits as large as the human head; the "cow-tree, " with its abundantfountains of rich milk; the "seringa, " with its valuable gum--thecaoutchouc of commerce; the "cinchona, " with its fever-killing bark; thecurious "volador, " with its winged seeds; the wild indigo, and thearnatto. We shall see palms of many species--some with trunks smooth andcylindrical, others covered with thorns, sharp and thickly set--somewith broad entire leaves, others with fronds pinnate and feathery, andstill others whose leaves are the shape of a fan--some rising like nakedcolumns to the height of an hundred and fifty feet, while othersscarcely attain to the standard of an ordinary man. On the water we shall see beautiful lilies--the snow-white _nymphs_, andthe yellow _nuphars_. We shall see the _Victoria regia_ covering thepool with its massive wax-like flowers, and huge circular leaves ofbronze green. We shall see tall flags like Saracen spears, and the darkgreen culms of gigantic rushes, and the golden _arundinaria_--thebamboo, and "caña brava, "--that rival the forest trees in height. Many a form of animal life we may behold. Basking in the sun, we maybehold the yellow and spotted body of the jaguar--a beautiful butdreaded sight. Breaking through the thick underwood, or emerging slowlyfrom the water, we may catch a glimpse of the sombre tapir, or thered-brown capivara. We may see the ocelot skulking through the deepshade, or the margay springing upon its winged prey. We may see the shaggy ant-bear tearing at the cones of sand-clay, and licking up the white termites; or we may behold the scalyarmadillo crawling over the sun-parched earth, and rolling itselfup at the approach of danger. We may see human-like forms, --the_quadrumana_--clinging among the high branches, and leaping from tree totree, like birds upon the wing; we may see them of many shapes, sizes, and colours, from the great howling monkeys, with their long prehensivetails, down to the little saimiris and ouistitis not larger thansquirrels. What beautiful birds, too!--for this forest is their favourite home. Upon the ground, the large curassows, and gurns, and the "gallo, " withhis plumage of bright red. Upon the trees, the macaws, and parrots, andtoucans, and trogons. In the waters, the scarlet flamingoes, the ibises, and the tall herons; and in the air, the hawks, the zamuros, theking-vultures, and the eagles. We shall see much of the reptile world, both by land and water. Baskingupon the bank, or floating along the stream, we may behold the greatwater lizards--the crocodile and caïman; or the unwieldly forms of the_cheloniĉ_--the turtles. Nimbly running along the tree-trunk, or up theslanting lliana, we may see the crested iguana, hideous to behold. Onthe branches that overhang the silent pool we may see the "water-boa, "of huge dimensions, watching for his prey--the peccary, the capivara, the paca, or the agouti; and in the dry forest we may meet with hiscongener the "stag-swallower, " twined around a tree, and waiting for theroebuck or the little red-deer of the woods. We may see the mygale, or bird-catching spider, at the end of his strongnet-trap, among the thick foliage; and the tarantula, at the bottom ofhis dark pit-fall, constructed in the ground. We may see the tent-likehills of the white ants, raised high above the surface, and the nests ofmany other kinds, hanging from high branches, and looking as though theyhad been constructed out of raw silk and pasteboard. We may see treescovered with these nests, and some with the nests of wasps, and stillothers with those of troupials and orioles--birds of the genus _icterus_and _cassicus_--hanging down like long cylindrical purses. All those, and many more strange sights, may be seen in the great forestof the Amazon valley; and some of them we _shall_ see--_voilà_! CHAPTER II. THE REFUGEES. Upon a bright and lovely evening, many years ago, a party of travellersmight have been seen climbing up that Cordillera of the Andes that liesto the eastward of the ancient city of Cuzco. It was a small andsomewhat singular party of travellers; in fact, a travellingfamily, --father, mother, children, and one attendant. We shall say aword of each of them separately. The chief of the party was a tall and handsome man, of nearly fortyyears of age. His countenance bespoke him of Spanish race, and so hewas. He was not a Spaniard, however, but a Spanish-American, or"Creole, " for so Spaniards born in America are called to distinguishthem from the natives of Old Spain. Remember--Creoles are _not_ people with negro or African blood in theirveins. There is a misconception on this head in England, and elsewhere. The African races of America are either negroes, mulattoes, quadroons, quinteroons, or mestizoes; but the "Creoles" are of European blood, though born in America. Remember this. Don Pablo Romero--for that wasthe name of our traveller--was a Creole, a native of Cuzco, which, asyou know, was the ancient capital of the Incas of Peru. Don Pablo, as already stated, was nearly forty years of age. Perhaps helooked older. His life had not been spent in idleness. Much study, combined with a good deal of suffering and care, had made many of thoselines that rob the face of its youthful appearance. Still, although hislook was serious, and just then sad, his eye was occasionally seen tobrighten, and his light elastic step showed that he was full of vigourand manhood. He had a moustache, very full and black, but his whiskerswere clean shaven, and his hair cut short, after the fashion of mostpeople in Spanish America. He wore velvet pantaloons, trimmed at the bottoms with black stampedleather, and upon his feet were strong boots of a reddish yellowcolour--that is, the natural colour of the tanned hide before it hasbeen stained. A dark jacket, closely buttoned, covered the upper-part ofhis body, and a scarlet silk sash encircled his waist, the long fringedends hanging down over the left hip. In this sash were stuck a Spanishknife and a pair of pistols, richly ornamented with silver mountings. But all these things were concealed from the view by a capacious poncho, which is a garment that in South America serves as a cloak by day and ablanket by night. It is nearly of the size and shape of an ordinaryblanket, with a slit in the centre, through which the head is passed, leaving the ends to hang down. Instead of being of uniform colour, several bright colours are usually woven into the poncho, forming avariety of patterns. In Mexico a very similar garment--the serapé--isalmost universally worn. The poncho of Don Pablo was a costly one, wovenby hand, and out of the finest wool of the vicuña, for that is thenative country of this useful and curious animal. Such a poncho would cost 20_l. _, and would not only keep out cold, butwould turn rain like a "macintosh. " Don Pablo's hat was also curious andcostly. It was one of those known as "Panama, " or "Guayaquil, "--hats socalled because they are manufactured by Indian tribes who dwell upon thePacific coast, and are made out of a rare sea-grass, which is found nearthe above-mentioned places. A good Guayaquil hat will cost 20_l. _; andalthough, with its broad curling brim and low crown, it looks not muchbetter than Leghorn or even fine straw, yet it is far superior toeither, both as a protection against rain, or, what is of moreimportance in southern countries, against a hot tropical sun. The bestof them will wear half a life-time. Don Pablo's "sombrero" was one ofthe very best and costliest; and this, combined with the style of hisother habiliments, betokened that the wearer was one of the "ricos, " orhigh class of his country. The costume of his wife, who was a dark and very beautiful Spanishwoman, would have strengthened this idea. She wore a dress of black silkwith velvet bodice and sleeves, tastefully embroidered. A mantilla ofdark cloth covered her shoulders, and on her head was a lowbroad-brimmed hat, similar to those usually worn by men, for a bonnet isa thing unknown to the ladies of Spanish America. A single glance at theDoña Isidora would have satisfied any one that she was a lady of rankand refinement. There were two children, upon which, from time to time, she gazedtenderly. They were her only ones. They were a boy and girl, nearly ofequal size and age. The boy was the elder, perhaps thirteen or more, ahandsome lad, with swarth face, coal-black eyes, and curly full-flowingdark hair. The girl, too, who would be about twelve, was dark--that isto say, brunette in complexion. Her eyes were large, round, and dreamy, with long lashes that kept the sun from shining into them, and thusdeepened their expression. Perhaps there are no children in the world so beautiful as those of theSpanish race. There is a smoothness of skin, a richness in colour, and anoble "hidalgo" expression in their round black eyes that is rare inother countries. Spanish women retain this expression to a good age. Themen lose it earlier, because, as I believe, they are oftener ofcorrupted morals and habits; and these, long exercised, certainly stamptheir lines upon the face. Those which are mean, and low, and vicious, produce a similar character of countenance, while those which are high, and holy, and virtuous, give it an aspect of beauty and nobility. Of all beautiful Spanish children none could have been more beautifulthan our two little Creole Spaniards, Leon and Leona--for such were thenames of the brother and sister. There yet remains one to be described, ere we complete the account ofour travelling party. This one was a grown and tall man, quite as tallas Don Pablo himself, but thinner and more angular in his outlines. Hiscoppery colour, his long straight black hair, his dark and wild piercingeye, with his somewhat odd attire, told you at once he was of adifferent race from any of the others. He was an Indian--a SouthAmerican Indian; and although a descendant from the noble race of thePeruvian Incas, he was acting in the capacity of a servant or attendantto Don Pablo and his family. There was a familiarity, however, between the old Indian--for he was anold man--and Don Pablo, that bespoke the existence of some tie of astronger nature than that which exists between master and servant. Andsuch there was in reality. This Indian had been one of the patriots whohad rallied around Tupac Amaru in his revolution against the Spaniards. He had been proscribed, captured, and sentenced to death. He would havebeen executed, but for the interference of Don Pablo, who had saved hislife. Since then Guapo--such was the Indian's name--had remained notonly the retainer, but the firm and faithful friend, of his benefactor. Guapo's feet were sandalled. His legs were naked up to the knees, showing many an old scar received from the cactus plants and the thornybushes of acacia, so common in the mountain-valleys of Peru. Atunic-like skirt of woollen cloth, --that home-made sort called"bayeta, "--was fastened around his waist, and reached down to the knees;but the upper part of his body was quite bare, and you could see thenaked breast and arms, corded with strong muscles, and covered with askin of a dark copper colour. The upper part of his body was naked onlywhen the sun was hot. At other times Guapo wore a species of poncho likehis master, but that of the Indian was of common stuff--woven out of thecoarse wool of the llama. His head was bare. [Illustration: THE FLIGHT OF THE REFUGEES. ] Guapo's features were thin, sharp, and intelligent. His eye was keen andpiercing; and the gait of the old man, as he strode along the rockypath, told that it would be many years before he would show any signs offeebleness or tottering. There were four animals that carried our travellers and their effects. One was a horse ridden by the boy Leon. The second was a saddle mule, onwhich rode Doña Isidora and Leona. The other two animals were notmounted. They were beasts of burden, with "yerguas, " or pack-saddles, upon which were carried the few articles that belonged to thetravellers. They were the camels of Peru--the far-famed llamas. DonPablo, with his faithful retainer, travelled afoot. You will wonder that one apparently so rich, and on so distant ajourney, was not provided with animals enough to carry his whole party. Another horse at least, or a mule, might have been expected in thecavalcade. It would not have been strange had Guapo only walked--as hewas the arriero, or driver, of the llamas--but to see Don Pablo afootand evidently tired, with neither horse nor mule to ride upon, wassomething that required explanation. There was another fact thatrequired explanation. The countenance of Don Pablo wore an anxiousexpression, as if some danger impended; so did that of the lady, and thechildren were silent, with their little hearts full of fear. They knewnot _what_ danger, but they knew that their father and mother were introuble. The Indian, too, had a serious look; and at each angle of the mountainroad he and Don Pablo would turn around, and with anxious eyes gaze backin the direction that led towards Cuzco. As yet they could distinguishthe spires of the distant city, and the Catholic crosses, as theyglistened under the evening sunbeam. Why did they look back with fearand distrust? Why? _Because Don Pablo was in flight, and fearedpursuers!_ What? Had he committed some great crime? No. On the contrary, he was the _victim of a noble virtue_--the virtue of patriotism! Forthat had he been condemned, and was now in flight--flying to save notonly his liberty but his life! yes, _his life;_ for had the sentinels onthose distant towers but recognised him, he would soon have beenfollowed and dragged back to an ignominious death. Young reader, I am writing of things that occurred before theSpanish-American colonies became free from the rule of Old Spain. Youwill remember that these countries were then governed by viceroys, whorepresented the King of Spain, but who in reality were quite as absoluteas that monarch himself. The great viceroys of Mexico and Peru heldcourt in grand state, and lived in the midst of barbaric pomp andluxury. The power of life and death was in their hands, and in manyinstances they used it in the most unjust and arbitrary manner. Theywere themselves, of course, natives of Old Spain--often the pamperedfavourites of that corrupt court. All the officials by which they were surrounded and served were, likethemselves, natives of Spain, or "Gachupinos, " (as the Creoles used tocall them, ) while the Creoles--no matter how rich, or learned, oraccomplished in any way--were excluded from every office of honour andprofit. They were treated by the Gachupinos with contempt and insult. Hence for long, long years before the great revolutions of SpanishAmerica, a strong feeling of dislike existed between Creole Spaniardsand Spaniards of Old Spain; and this feeling was quite independent ofthat which either had towards the Indians--the aborigines of America. This feeling brought about the revolution, which broke out in all thecountries of Spanish America (including Mexico) and which, after fifteenyears of cruel and sanguinary fighting, led to the independence of thesecountries. Some people will tell you that they gained nothing by this independence, as since that time so much war and anarchy have marked their history. There is scarcely any subject upon which mankind thinks moresuperficially, and judges more wrongly, than upon this very one. It is amistake to suppose that a people enjoys either peace or prosperity, simply because it is quiet. There is quiet in Russia, but to itsmillions of serfs war continuous and eternal; and the same may be saidof many other countries as well as Russia. To the poor slave, or even to the over-taxed subject, peace is no peace, but a constant and systematised struggle, often more pernicious in itseffects than even the anarchy of open war. A war of this kind numbersits slain by millions, for the victims of famine are victims of_political crime_ on the part of a nation's rulers. I have no time nowto talk of these things. Perhaps, boy reader, you and I may meet on thisground again, and at no very distant period. Well, it was not in the general rising that Don Pablo had beencompromised, but previous to that. The influence of the EuropeanRevolution of 1798 was felt even in distant Spanish America, and severalebullitions occurred in different parts of that country at the sametime. They were premature; they were crushed. Those who had taken partin them were hunted to the death. Death! death! was the war-cry of theSpanish hirelings, and bitterly did they execute their vengeance on allwho were compromised. Don Pablo would have been a victim among others, had he not had timely warning and escaped; but as it was, all hisproperty was taken by confiscation, and became the plunder of therapacious tyrant. We are introduced to him just at the period of his escape. By the aid ofthe faithful Guapo he had hastily collected a few things, and with hiswife and family fled in the night. Hence the incompleteness of histravelling equipage. He had taken one of the most unfrequented paths--amere bridle-road--that led from Cuzco eastward over the Cordillera. Hisintent was to gain the eastern slope of the Andes mountains, where hemight conceal himself for a time in the uninhabited woods of the Great_Montaña_, and towards this point was he journeying. By a _ruse_ he hadsucceeded in putting the soldiers of the despot on a false track; but itwas not certain that they might not yet fall into the true one. Nowonder then, when he gazed back towards Cuzco, that his look was one ofapprehension and anxiety. CHAPTER III. THE POISON-TREES. Following the rugged and winding path, the travellers had climbed to aheight of many thousand feet above the ocean level. There was verylittle vegetation around them. Nothing that deserved the name of tree, if we except a few stunted specimens of queñoa trees, and here and therepatches of the Ratanhia shrub, which covered the hill-sides. Both theseare used by the mountain Indians as fuel, but the Ratanhia is also afavourite remedy against dysentery and blood-spitting. Its extract iseven exported to European countries, and is to be found in the shop ofthe apothecary. Now and then a beautiful species of locust was seen with its bright redflowers. It was the "Sangre de Christo" of the Peruvian _flora_. Don Pablo Romero was a naturalist, and I may here tell you a pleasantand interesting fact--which is, that many of the earliest patriots andrevolutionists of Spanish America were men who had distinguishedthemselves in natural science--in fact, were the "savans" of thesecountries. I call this a pleasant fact, and you may deem it a curiousone too, because men of science are usually lovers of peace, and notaccustomed to meddle either in war or politics. But the truth of the matter is this, --under the government of theviceroys all books, except those of a monkish religion, were jealouslyexcluded from these countries. No political work whatever was permittedto be introduced; and the people were kept in the grossest ignorance oftheir natural rights. It was only into learned institutions that aglimmering of the light of freedom found its way, and it was amongst theprofessors of these institutions that the "rights of men" first began tobe discussed. Many of these noble patriots were the first victimsoffered up on the altar of Spanish-American independence. Don Pablo, I have said, was a naturalist; and it was perhaps the firstjourney he had ever made without observing attentively the naturalobjects that presented themselves along his route. But his mind was busywith other cares; and he heeded neither the _fauna_ nor _flora_. Hethought only of his loved wife and dear children, of the dangers towhich he and they were exposed. He thought only of increasing thedistance between them and his vengeful enemies. During that day they hadmade a toilsome journey of fifteen miles, up the mountain--a longjourney for the llamas, who rarely travel more than ten or twelve; butthe dumb brutes seemed to exert themselves as if they knew that dangerthreatened those who guided them. They belonged to Guapo, who had not been a mere servant, but acultivator, and had held a small "chacra, " or farm, under Don Pablo. Guapo's voice was well known to the creatures, and his "hist!" ofencouragement urged them on. But fifteen miles was an unusual journey, and the animals began to show symptoms of fatigue. Their humming noise, which bears some resemblance to the tones of an Eolian harp, boomed loudat intervals as the creatures came to a stop; and then the voice ofGuapo could be heard urging them forward. The road led up a defile, which was nothing more than the bed of amountain-torrent, now dry. For a long distance there was no spot oflevel ground where our travellers could have encamped, even had theydesired to stop. At length, however, the path led out of thetorrent-bed, and they found themselves on a small ledge, or table, covered with low trees. These trees were of a peculiar kind, very commonin all parts of the Andes, and known as _mollé_ trees. They are moreproperly bushes than trees, being only about ten or twelve feet inheight. They have long delicate pinnate leaves, very like those of theacacia, and, when in fruit, they are thickly covered with clusters ofsmall bright red berries. These berries are used among some tribes of Indians for making a highlyvaluable and medicinal beer; but the wood of the tree is of moreimportance to the people of those parts as an article of fuel, becausethe tree grows where other wood is scarce. It is even considered by thesugar-refiners as the best for their purpose, since its ashes, possessing highly alkaline properties, are more efficient than any otherin purifying the boiling juice of the sugar-cane. The leaves of thisbeautiful tree, when pressed, emit a strong aromatic smell; and a verycurious property ascribed to it by the more ignorant people of themountains will be illustrated by the dialogue which follows:-- "Let us pass the night here, " said Don Pablo, halting, and addressinghimself to Guapo. "This level spot will serve us to encamp. We can sleepunder the shade of the bushes. " "What! _mi amo_! (my master) Here?" replied the Indian, with a gestureof surprise. "And why not here? Can any place be better? If we again enter the defilewe may find no other level spot. See! the llamas will go no farther. Wemust remain therefore. " "But, master, " continued Guapo--"see!" "See what?" "The trees, master!" "Well, what of the trees? Their shade will serve to screen us from thenight dew. We can sleep under them. " "Impossible, master--_they are poison trees_!" "You are talking foolishly, Guapo. These are _mollé_ trees. " "I know it, señor; but they are poison. If we sleep under them we shallnot awake in the morning--we shall awake no more. " And Guapo, as he uttered these words, looked horrified. "This is nonsense; you are superstitious, old man. We must abide here. See, the llamas have lain down. They will not move hence, I warrant. " Guapo turned to the llamas, and thinking that their movements mightinfluence the decision of his master, began to urge them in hisaccustomed way. But it is a peculiarity of these creatures not to stirone step beyond what they consider a proper journey. Even when the loadis above that which they are accustomed to carry--that is to say, 120lbs. --neither voice nor whip will move them. They may be goaded todeath, but will not yield, and coaxing has a like effect. Both knew thatthey had done their day's work; and the voice, the gesticulations andblows of Guapo, were all in vain. Neither would obey him any longer. TheIndian saw this, and reluctantly consented to remain; at the same timehe continued to repeat his belief that they would all most certainlyperish in the night. For himself, he expressed his intention to climb aledge, and sleep upon the naked rocks; and he earnestly entreated theothers to follow his example. Don Pablo listened to the admonitions of his retainer with incredulity, though not with any degree of disdain. He knew the devotedness of theold Indian, and therefore treated, what he considered a meresuperstition, with a show of respect. But he felt an inclination tocure Guapo of the folly of such a belief; and was, on this account, themore inclined to put his original design into execution. To pass thenight under the shade of the mollé trees was, therefore, determinedupon. All dismounted. The llamas were unloaded; their packs, or _yerguas_, taken off; the horse and mule were unsaddled; and all were permitted tobrowse over the little space which the ledge afforded. They were alltrained animals. There was no fear of any of them straying. The next thing was to prepare supper. All were hungry, as none of theparty had eaten since morning. In the hurry of flight, they had made noprovision for an extended journey. A few pieces of _charqui_ (jerked ordried beef) had been brought along; and, in passing near a field of"oca, " Guapo had gathered a bunch of the roots, and placed them on theback of his llama. This oca is a tuberous root, of an oval shape andpale red colour, but white inside. It resembles very much the Jerusalemartichoke, but it is longer and slimmer. Its taste is very agreeable andsweetish--somewhat like that of pumpkins, and it is equally good whenroasted or boiled. There is another sort of tuberous root, called "ulluca" by thePeruvians, which is more glutinous and less pleasant to the taste. Thiskind is various in form, being either round, oblong, straight, orcurved, and of a reddish, yellow colour outside, though green within. Itis insipid when boiled with water, but excellent when dressed withSpanish peppers (_Capsicum_). Out of the _oca_, then, and _charqui_, thesupper must be made; and for the purpose of cooking it, a fire must bekindled with the wood of the mollé. For a long time there was a doubt about whether it would be safe tokindle this fire. The sun had not yet gone down, and the smoke mightattract observation from the valley below. If the pursuers were on theirtrack, it might be noticed; as upon this lonely route a fire wouldindicate nothing else than the camp of some one on a journey. But thestomachs of our travellers cried for food, and it was at length resolvedto light the fire, but not until after sunset, when the smoke could beno longer seen, and the blaze would be hidden behind the thick bushes ofmollé. Don Pablo walked off from the camp, and wandered among the trees to seeif he could find something that might contribute a little variety totheir simple supper. A small, broom-like plant, that grew among themollé trees, soon attracted his attention. This was the _quinoa_ plant, which produces a seed, not unlike rice, though smaller in the grain, whence it has received in commerce the name "petty rice. " The quinoaseeds, when boiled, are both pleasant and nutritious, but especially sowhen boiled in milk. Previous to the discovery of America, "quinoa" wasan article of food, supplying the place of wheat. It was much used bythe natives, and is still collected for food in many parts. Indeed, ithas been introduced into some European countries, and cultivated withsuccess. The leaves, when young, can be used as spinach, but the seedsare the most sought after for food. Don Pablo having called Leon to assist him, a quantity of the seeds weresoon collected into a vessel, and carried to the place which they hadchosen for their camp; and, as it was now dark enough, the fire waskindled and the cooking-pot got ready. The Doña Isidora, although afine lady, was one of those who had all her life been accustomed to lookafter her household affairs; and this, it may be remarked, is a somewhatrare virtue among the Peruvian ladies, who are generally too much givento dress and idleness. It was not so, however, with the wife of DonPablo. She knew how to look after the affairs of the _cuisine_, andcould dress any of the peculiar dishes of the country with the best ofcooks. In a short while, therefore, an excellent supper was ready, ofwhich all ate heartily, and then, wrapping themselves up in theirponchos, lay down to sleep. CHAPTER IV. THE SUPPER OF GUAPO. I have said all ate of the supper. This is not strictly true. One of theparty did not touch it, and that was old Guapo. Why? Was he not hungrylike the rest? Yes; as hungry as any of them. Why then did he not eat ofthe _charqui_ and ocas? Simply because Guapo had a supper of a verydifferent kind, which he carried in his pouch, and which he liked muchbetter than the charqui stew. What was it? It was "coca. " "Chocolate, " you will say, or, as some call it, "cocoa, " which should becalled, to name it properly, "cacao. " No, I answer--it was notchocolate, nor cocoa, nor cacao neither. "It must have been cocoa-nuts then?" No; nor yet cocoa-nuts. The "coca, "upon which Guapo made his supper, and which contented his stomachperfectly for the night, was an article very different from either thecacao which makes chocolate, or the nut of the cocoa-palm. You are nowimpatient to hear what sort of thing it was, and I shall tell you atonce. The coca is a small tree or shrub about six feet in height, which growsin the warmer valleys among the Andes mountains. Its botanical name is_Erythroxylon coca_. Its leaves are small and of a bright green colour, and its blossoms white. Its fruits are very small scarlet berries. It isa native plant, and, therefore, found in a wild state; but it iscultivated by the planters of these countries in fields regularly laidout, and hence called "cocales. " This plant is raised from the seed, andwhen the young shoots have attained the height of about eighteen inches, they are transplanted and put down again at the distance of about a footapart from each other. Now as these little bushes require a humid atmosphere, maize-plants aresown between the rows to protect them from the sun. In other placesarbours of palm-leaves are constructed over the coca-plants. When norain falls, they are watered every five or six days. After about two anda half years of this nursing, the coca-bush is ready for use, and it isthe leaves alone that are valuable. These are gathered with great care, just as the Chinese gather the leaves of the tea-plant; and, as inChina, women are principally employed in this labour. The leaves aresaid to be ripe, not when they have withered and turned brown, but at aperiod when they are full-grown and become brittle. When this periodarrives, they are picked from the tree, and laid out on coarse woollencloths to dry in the sun. When dried, they remain of a pale green colour; but should they get dampduring the process, they become darker, and are then of inferiorquality, and sell for a less price. When fully dried, they are carefullypacked in bags and covered up with dry sand, and are thus ready for themarket. Their price, on the spot where the crop is produced, is aboutone shilling English per pound. They are, therefore, full as costly toproduce as tea itself, although the coca-bush will yield three crops ofleaves in one year--that is, a crop every four months; and one hundredplants will produce about an arroba (25 lbs. ) at a crop. The coca-plantwill continue to give fresh leaves for a long period of years, unlessattacked and destroyed by ants, which is not unfrequently the case. Now, why have I so minutely described the coca-bush? Because, that, inthe economy of the life of those Indians who inhabit the countries ofthe Andes mountains, this curious plant plays a most important part. Scarcely one of these people is to be met with who is not an eater ofcocoa--a "coquero. " With them it is what the tea-tree is to the Chinese. Indeed, it is a curious fact, that in all parts of the world somestimulating vegetable is used by the human race. Tea in China; thebetel-leaf, and the nut of the areca palm, among the Southern Asiatics;the poppy in the East; with tobacco, and many like things, in othercountries. But the coca not only supplies the Indian with a solace to his cares, itforms the chief article of his food. With a supply of coca, an Indianwill support himself five or six days without eating anything else. Thepoor miners, in the Peruvian mines, are all "coqueros;" and it isalleged that, without coca, they would be unable to undergo the painfultoil to which their calling subjects them. When used to excess, the cocaproduces deleterious effects on the human system; but, if moderatelytaken, it is far more innocent in its results than either opium ortobacco. The coca-leaf is not eaten alone. A certain preparation is necessary, and another substance is mixed with it before it produces the propereffect. But let us watch the movements of Guapo, and we shall see how_he_ does it, for Guapo is a confirmed coquero. Guapo, true to his promise, does not sleep under the mollé trees. Heleaves the party, and, with a melancholy air, has climbed up and seatedhimself upon a projecting rock, where he intends to pass the night. Hislast glance at Don Pablo and his family was one of foreboding. He hadagain remonstrated with his master, but to no purpose. The latter onlylaughed at the earnestness of the old Indian, and told him to go to hisperch and leave the party to themselves. It was still grey light when Guapo climbed up to the rock. Against thesky his tall, lank form could be traced in all its outlines. For somemoments he sat in a serious and reflective mood--evidently busy withthoughts about the "poison-trees. " His appetite, however, soon got thebetter of him; and he set to work to prepare his coca supper. It was asimple operation. Around Guapo's neck there hung a small pouch made of the skin of thechinchilla, which beautiful little animal is a native of these parts. This pouch contained a quantity of the dry leaves of the coca. Havingtaken out some half-dozen of these leaves, he put them into his mouthand commenced chewing them. In a short while, by the aid of tongue, teeth, and lips, they were formed into a little ball of pulp, thatrolled about in his mouth. Another step in the process now becamenecessary. A small gourd, that hung around Guapo's neck by a thong, waslaid hold of. This was corked with a wooden stopper, in which stopper awire pin was fixed, long enough to reach down to the bottom of thegourd. After taking out the stopper, Guapo applied the lower part of the pin tohis lips, and then, plunging it once more into the gourd, drew it outagain. This time the pin came out, with a fine whitish powder adheringto the part that had been wetted. Now what was this powder? It wasnothing else than lime that had been burned, and pulverised. Perhaps itwas the ashes of the mollé tree, of which we have already spoken, andwhich, as we have said, possess a highly alkaline property. The ashes ofthe musa, or plaintain, are sometimes used; but, after all, it is mostlikely that it was the mollé ashes which Guapo carried, for these aremost highly esteemed by the Indians of Southern Peru; and Guapo was aconnoisseur in coca-eating. Whichever of the three it was--lime, mollé, or musa--Guapo carried thepin to his mouth, and, without touching his lips (it would have burnthim if he had), he inserted it, so as to penetrate the ball of chewedcocoa-leaves that rested upon the tip of his tongue. This was stabbedrepeatedly and adroitly by the pin, until all the powder remained in thecoca-ball; and then the pin was withdrawn, wiped, and restored to itsplace, along with the stopper of the gourd. Guapo now remained quietly "ruminating" for a period of about fortyminutes--for this is about the time required for chewing a mess ofcocoa-leaves. Indeed, so exactly is this time observed, that theIndians, when travelling, measure distances by it; and one "coceada" isabout equal to the time occupied in walking a couple of English miles. The coceada of our old Indian being finished, he drew his llama-woolponcho around him; and, leaning back against the rock, was soon buriedin a profound slumber. CHAPTER V. THE PUNA. By early dawn Guapo was awake, but he did not immediately awake theothers. It was still too dark to follow the mountain road. His firstcare was to have his coca breakfast, and to this he applied himself atonce. Day was fairly broke when he had ended the process of mastication, andhe bethought him of descending from the rock to arouse the sleepers. Heknew they still slept, as no voice had yet issued from the grove ofmollés. The mule and horse were heard cropping the grass, and the llamaswere now feeding upon an open spot, --the first they had eaten sincetheir halt, as these creatures do not browse in the night. Guapo descended with fear in his heart. How it would have joyed him tohear the voice of his master, or of any of them! But, no. Not a soundproceeded from any one of the party. He stole nimbly along the ledge, making his way through the mollé trees. At length he reached the spot. All asleep?--yes, all! "Are they dead?" thought Guapo, and his heartbeat with anxiety. Indeed, they seemed so. The fatigue of travel hadcast a sickly paleness over the faces of all, and one might easily havefancied they no longer lived. But they breathed. "Yes, they breathe!"ejaculated the old Indian, half aloud. "They live!" Guapo bent down, and seizing Don Pablo by the arm, shook him--at firstgently, uttering, at the same time, some words to awake him. But neitherthe shaking nor the voice had any effect. Guapo shook more violently, and shouted louder. Still Don Pablo slept. None of the othersmoved--none of them heard him. It was strange, for the Indian knew thatDon Pablo himself, as well as the others, were easily awaked on ordinaryoccasions. Guapo, becoming alarmed, now raised his voice to its loudestpitch, at the same time dragging Don Pablo's shoulder in a still moreviolent manner. This had the desired effect. The sleeper awoke but soslowly, and evidently with such exertion, that there was somethingmysterious in it. "What is it?" he inquired, with half-opened eyes. "Is it morningalready?" "The sun is up. Rouse, my master! It is time we were on the road, "replied the Indian. "I feel very drowsy--I am heavy--I can scarce keep my eyes open. Whatcan be the cause of this?" "The poison-trees, master, " answered Guapo. The answer seemed to impress Don Pablo. He made a violent effort, androse to his feet. When up he could scarcely stand. He felt as though hehad swallowed a powerful opiate. "It must be so, good Guapo. Perhaps there is some truth in what you havesaid. O, heavens!" exclaimed he, suddenly recollecting himself, --"theothers--my wife and children!" This thought had fully awakened Don Pablo; and Guapo and he proceeded atonce to arouse the others, which they effected after much shouting andshaking. All were still heavy with sleep, and felt as did Don Pablohimself. "Surely there is some narcotic power in the aroma of these trees, "muttered Don Pablo. "Come, wife, let us be gone! We must remain underits influence no longer, else what Guapo has said may prove too true. Saddle up--we must eat our breakfasts farther on. To the road!--to theroad!" Guapo soon had the horses ready, and all hurried from the spot, and wereonce more climbing up the mountain-path. Even the animals seemed to moveslowly and lazily, as though they, too, had been under the influence ofsome soporific. But the pure cold air of the mountain soon produced itseffect. All gradually recovered, and after cooking some _charqui_ andocas in the ravine, and making their breakfast upon these, they againfelt light and fresh, and pursued their journey with renewed vigour. The road kept on up the ravine, and in some places the banks rose almostperpendicularly from the bed of the dry torrent, presenting on bothsides vast walls of black porphyry--for this is the principal rockcomposing the giant chain of the Andes. Above their heads screamed smallparrots of rich plumage of the species _Conurus rupicola_, which maketheir nestling places, and dwell upon these rocky cliffs. This is asingular fact, as all other parrots known are dwellers among trees andare found in the forest at all times, except when on their passage fromplace to place. But even the squirrel, which is an animal peculiarly delighting intree-life, has its representative in several species ofground-squirrels, that never ascend a tree; and, among the monkeys, there exists the troglodyte or cave-dwelling chimpanzee. No doubtsquirrels or monkeys of any kind, transported to an open or treelesscountry, would soon habituate themselves to their new situation, --forNature affords many illustrations of this power of adaptation on thepart of her creatures. It was near sunset when our travellers reached the highest point oftheir route, nearly 14, 000 feet above the level of the sea! Here theyemerged upon an open plain which stretched far before them. Above thisplain towered mountains of all shapes to a height of many thousand feetfrom the level of the plain itself. Some of these mountains carriedtheir covering of eternal snow, which, as the evening sun glanced uponit, exhibited the most beautiful tints of rose, and purple, and gold. The plain looked bleak and barren, and the cold which our travellers nowfelt added to the desolateness of the scene. No trees were in sight. Dryyellow grass covered the ground, and the rocks stood out naked andshaggy. They had reached one of those elevated tables of the Andes knownas the _Puna_. These singular tracts elevated above the level of cultivation are almostuninhabited. Their only inhabitants are a few poor Indians, who areemployed by the rich proprietors of the lower valleys as shepherds; forupon these cold uplands thrive sheep, and cattle, and llamas, and flocksof the wool-bearing alpaco. Through this wild region, however, you maytravel for days without encountering even a single one of the wretchedand isolated inhabitants who watch over these flocks and herds. On reaching the Puna, our party had made their day's journey, and wouldhave halted. The llamas already showed signs of giving out by stoppingand uttering their strange booming note. But Guapo knew theseparts--for, though a descendant of the Incas, he had originally comefrom the great forest beyond the eastern slope of the Andes, where manyof the Peruvian Indians had retired after the cruel massacres ofPizarro. He now remembered, that not far from where they were, was ashepherd's hut, and that the shepherd himself was an old friend of his. That would be the place to stop for the night; and, by Guapo's advice, Don Pablo resolved to continue on to the hut. Guapo fell upon his knees before the llamas, and, after caressing andkissing them, and using a great variety of endearing expressions, he atlast coaxed these animals to proceed. No other means would have availed, as beating would not make either llama budge an inch. The leader, whowas a fine large animal and a great favourite with its master, at lengthstepped boldly out; and the other, encouraged by the sound of the smallbells that tinkled around the head of the leader, followed after, and sothe travellers moved on. "Come, papa!" cried Leon; "you are tired yourself--mount this horse--Ican walk a bit:" at the same instant the boy flung himself from the backof the horse, and led him up to where his father stood. Then handing thebridle to the latter, he struck off along the plain, following Guapo andhis llamas. The road skirted round the rocks, where the mountain came down to meetthe plain. The walk was not a long one, for the hut of which Guapo spokebecame visible at less than a quarter of a mile's distance. Anodd-looking hut it was--more like an ill-built stack of bean-straw thana house. It had been built in the following manner:-- First, a round ring of large stones had been laid, then a row of turf, then another tier of stones, and so on, until the circular wall hadreached the height of about four or five feet, the diameter being notmore than eight or nine. On the top of the wall a number of poles hadbeen set, so as to meet above where they were tied together. These poleswere nothing else than the long flower-stalks of the _maguey_ orAmerican aloe, as no other wood of sufficient length grew in thevicinity. These poles served for rafters, and across them laths had beenlaid, and made fast. Over all this was placed a thatch of the longcoarse Puna grass, which was tied in its place by grass ropes that werestretched from side to side over the top. This was the hut of Guapo'sfriend, and similar to all others that may be encountered in the wildregion of the Puna. A door was left in the side, not over two feet high, so that it was necessary to crawl upon the hands and knees before anyone could reach the interior. As our travellers approached, they saw that the entrance was closed byan ox-hide which covered the whole of the opening. Whether the shepherd was at home, was the next question; but as they gotnear to the house, Guapo suggested that Don Pablo should dismount andlet Leon get upon horseback. This suggestion was made on account of thePuna dogs--of which creatures Guapo had a previous knowledge. Thesedogs, known by the name of Inca dogs, are, perhaps, the fiercest animalsof their species. They are small, with pointed muzzles, tails curling upward, and longshaggy hair. They are half-wild, snappish, and surly, as it is possiblefor dogs to be. They attack strangers with fury, and it is as much astheir masters can do to rescue even a friend from their attack. Evenwhen wounded, and unable any longer to keep their feet, they will crawlalong the ground and bite the legs of those who have wounded them. Theyare even more hostile to white people than to Indians, and it issometimes dangerous to approach an Indian hut where three or four ofthese fierce creatures are kept, as they will jump up against the sideof a horse, and bite the legs of the rider. Their masters often use thestick before they can get obedience from them. In every Indian hutseveral of these animals may be found, as they are extremely useful tothe shepherds in guarding their flocks and for hunting. They are much employed throughout the Puna to hunt the "yutu, " a speciesof partridge which inhabits the rushy grass. This bird is traced by thedogs, seized before it can take to flight, and killed by a single biteof its fierce pursuer. Considering the savage nature of the Inca dogs, Guapo showed great caution in approaching the hut of his friend. Hefirst called loudly, but there was no reply. He then stole forward withhis long knife, or "_macheté_, " in his hand; and having lifted the skinthat covered the low doorway, peeped in. The hut was empty. CHAPTER VI. THE WILD BULL OF THE PUNA. Guapo was not much troubled at this. He knew he could take the libertyof using his friend's roof for the night, even should the latter notreturn to grant it. He crawled in. Of course his friend was onlytemporarily absent--no doubt looking after his flocks of sheep andalpacos; and as he was a bachelor, there was no wife at home, but therewere his furniture and utensils. Furniture! No--there was none. Therenever is in the hut of a Puna shepherd. Utensils! yes--there was anearthen "olla, " or pot to cook soup in, another to boil or roast maize, a jar to hold water, a few split gourd-shells for plates, two or threeothers for cups--that was all. This was the catalogue of utensils. Two stones set a little apart formedthe fireplace, in which the shepherd, when he makes a fire to cook with, makes it out of dry dung. A couple of dirty sheep-skins lay upon theground. These were the bed. Nothing more was to be seen. Yes, there wasone thing more, and this gladdened the eyes of Guapo. In a bag that hungagainst the wall, and on which he soon laid his hands, he feltsomething--a collection of hard round objects, about as big as largechestnuts. Guapo knew very well what these were. He knew they were"macas. " What are _macas_? you will ask. Macas, then, are tuberous roots thatgrow in the elevated regions of the Puna, where neither ocas, ullucas, nor potatoes, will thrive. They are cultivated by the inhabitants, andin many parts constitute almost the only food of these wretched people. They have an agreeable and rather sweetish flavour, and, when boiled inmilk, taste somewhat like boiled chestnuts. They can be preserved formore than a year by simply drying them in the sun, and then exposingthem to the cold air, when they become hard and shrivelled. They thrivebest in this high region, for although they will grow in the lowervalleys, they are there very insipid and worthless. The Indians preparethem for food by boiling them into a soup, or syrup, which is taken withparched maize-corn. Guapo knew that he had got his hands upon a bag of dried macas, andalthough their owner was absent, he had already come to thedetermination to appropriate them for himself and party. His joy at thediscovery had not subsided when another bag drew his attention, and thiswas the signal for another delightful surprise. His hand touched the newbag in a trice. There was a rattling sound within. Peas? No--maize. "Good!" ejaculated Guapo; "maize and macas! That with what is left ofthe charqui--we shall not fast to-night. " Guapo now backed himself out of the hut, and joyfully announced thediscoveries he had made. The travellers dismounted. The horse and mulewere picketed on lassoes on the plain. The llamas were left to go atwill. They would not stray far from their owner. It was piercing cold in this highland region. Doña Isidora and thechildren entered the hut, while Don Pablo and Guapo remained without forthe purpose of collecting fuel. There was not a stick of wood, as notrees of any sort grew near. Both strayed off upon the plain to gatherthe _taquia_, or ordure of the cattle, though no cattle were in sight. Their tracks, however, were visible all around. While engaged thus, the old Indian suddenly raised himself from hisstooping position with an exclamation that betokened alarm. What hadstartled him? A loud bellowing was heard--it was the bellowing of abull. But what was there in that sound to alarm two full-grown men? Ah!you know not the bulls of the Puna. Coming around a promontory of rocks a large black bull was in sight. Hewas approaching them in full run, his head thrown down, his eyes glaringfiercely. At every spring he uttered a roar, which was terrific to hear. A more horrid object it would be difficult to conceive. You may supposethat an adventure with an enraged bull is one of an ordinary character, and may occur any day, even in the green meadow pastures of Old England. So it is, if the animal were only an English bull. But it is a fardifferent affair with the bulls of the Puna. Throughout all Spanish America animals of this kind are of a fiercernature than elsewhere. It is from them the bulls used in the celebratedfights are obtained; and, perhaps, the race has been made fiercer by thetreatment they receive on such occasions--for many of those that exhibitin the arena are afterwards used to breed from. But, in general, theSpanish-American "vacqueros, " or cattle-herds, treat the cattle undertheir charge with much cruelty, and this has the effect of renderingthem savage. Even in herds of cattle where there are no bulls, there arecows so dangerous to approach, that the vacqueros never attempt drivingthem unless when well mounted. A Mexican or South American cattle-herd is, therefore, always a mountedman. There is a difference, too, among the bulls in different parts ofthese countries. On the Llanos of Venezuela they are not so fierce asthose of the Puna, and they are more and less so in different parts ofMexico and the Pampas of Buenos Ayres. The Puna bulls are, perhaps, the fiercest and most dangerous of all. They are more than half wild. They scarcely ever see a human being, andthey will attack one upon sight. To a mounted man there is littledanger, unless by the stumbling or falling of his horse; but many a poorIndian, crossing these high plains afoot, has fallen a sacrifice tothese vengeful brutes. Both Don Pablo and Guapo knew all this, and therefore were aware oftheir own danger. Neither had a weapon--not so much as a stick. They hadlaid aside their knives and other arms, which had been carried insidethe hut. To reach the hut before the bull reached _them_ would beimpossible; the brute was coming nearly from it--for he had issued fromsome shelter in the rocks not far off. They were full two hundred yardsout upon the plain, and to run in the direction of the rocks would havebeen to run counter to the bull, and meet him face to face! Their dangerwas imminent. What was to be done? There was not much time left them for consideration. The furious animalwas within thirty paces distance, roaring loudly, shaking his head andbrandishing his long sharp horns. At this moment a happy thoughtoccurred almost simultaneously to Don Pablo and the Indian. The evening, as we have already said, was piercing cold, and both, in going out tocollect the fuel, had worn their ponchos. The trick of the matador with his red cloak suggested itself in thismoment of peril. Both had seen it performed--Don Pablo often--and knewsomething of the "way. " In a moment both had stripped the ponchos fromtheir shoulders, and, placing themselves _à la matador_, awaited theonset of the bull. It was agreed that as soon as the bull was "hooded"by either, that both should run at all speed to the rocks, where theycould easily climb out of reach of the animal. Don Pablo happened to be more in the way, and perhaps his more showyponcho attracted the brute; but whether or not, he was the first toreceive the charge. With the adroitness of a practised matador he flunghis poncho on the horns of the animal, and then both ran in thedirection of the rocks. As they faced towards the hut, however, to thehorror of Don Pablo he saw the Doña Isidora, with Leon and the littleLeona, all outside, and even at some distance from the entrance!Attracted by the bellowing of the bull and the shouts of the men, theyhad rushed out of the hut. Don Pablo, in wild accents, shouted to them to make for the door; but, paralysed by terror, they were for some moments unable to move. Atlength Doña Isidora, recovering herself, ran for the entrance, pushingthe children before her. But the low doorway was difficult of access;they were slow in getting under it; and they would have been too late, as the bull, after shaking off the poncho, had turned and made directlyfor the hut. "O God, preserve her!" cried Don Pablo, as he saw the enraged animalwithin a few paces of where his wife had knelt to enter the doorway. "She is lost! she is lost!" In fact, the bull was making directly towards her, and it seemed as ifnothing could then have interposed to save her. At that moment the tramp of a horse in full gallop sounded on theirears. Don Pablo looked up. A strange horseman was near the spot--anIndian. Over his head a singular instrument was revolving. There werethree thongs fastened at one end, while at the other end of each was aball. These balls were whirling and gyrating in the air. The next momentboth thongs and balls were seen to part from the hands of the rider, andwrap themselves around the legs of the bull. The latter made an awkwardspring forward, and then fell upon the plain, where he lay kicking andhelpless. The horseman uttered a yell of triumph, sprang from his horse, and running up to the prostrate animal, thrust the blade of his longmacheté into its throat. The red stream gushed forth, and in a fewseconds the black monster lay motionless upon the plain. The new-comer quietly unwound the thongs--the _bolas_--from the legs ofthe dead bull, and then addressed himself to our travellers. CHAPTER VII. THE "VAQUERO. " Who was this deliverer? No other than the vaquero--the friend ofGuapo, --who now welcomed Guapo and his companions, telling them in thepolite phraseology of all Spanish-Americans that his _house(!)_ was attheir service. They were welcome to all it contained. The macas, and maize, and a fresh steak from the wild bull, enabled themto make a most excellent supper. In return for this hospitality, DonPablo made the vaquero a handsome present out of his purse; but whatgratified him still more was a supply of coca which his friend Guapo wasenabled to bestow upon him, for his own stock had been exhausted forsome days. Guapo, on leaving Cuzco, had spent his last _peseta_ inbuying this luxury, and therefore was well provided for weeks to come. After they had had supper, he and his friend seated themselves on oneside, and quietly chewed for a good half-hour, when at length Guapo, whoknew he could trust the vaquero--because the latter, like himself, wasone of the "patriotas"--communicated to him the object of their journeythrough that desolate region. The vaquero not only promised secrecy, butbound himself to put any party of pursuers completely off the trail. The vaquero, even in his remote mountain-home, had heard of Don Pablo, knew that he was a good patriot and friend of the Indians, and he wouldtherefore have risked his life to serve such a man--for no people haveproved more devoted to the friends of their race than these simple andfaithful Indians of the Andes. How many instances of nobleself-sacrifice--even of life itself--occurred during the painful historyof their conquest by the cruel and sanguinary followers of Pizarro! The vaquero, therefore, did all in his power to make his guestscomfortable for the night. His dogs--there were four of them--were notso hospitably inclined, for they did not seem to know friends fromenemies. They had come up shortly after their master himself arrived, and had made a desperate attack upon everybody. The vaquero, however, assisted by Guapo--who, being an Indian, was less troubled withthem--gave them a very rough handling with a large whip which hecarried; and then, securing the whole of them, tied them together in abunch, and left them at the back of the hut to snap and growl at eachother, which they did throughout the livelong night. Supper over, allthe travellers would have retired to rest; but the vaquero, havingannounced that he was going out to set snares for the chinchillas andviscachas, Leon could not rest, but asked permission to accompany him. This was granted both by Don Pablo and the vaquero himself. The chinchilla, and its near relative the viscacha, are two littleanimals of the rodent, or grass-eating kind, that inhabit the veryhighest mountains of Peru and Chili. They are nearly of the same size, and each about as big as a rabbit, which in habits they very muchresemble. They have long tails, however, which the rabbit has not, though the latter beats them in the length of his ears. The colour ofthe chinchilla is known to everybody, since its soft, velvety fur ishighly prized by ladies as an article of dress, and may be seen in everyLondon fur-shop. The animal is of a beautiful marbled grey, white and black, with purewhite feet. The fur of the viscacha is not so pretty, being of abrownish and white mixture. Its cheeks are black, with long, bristlymoustaches, like those of a cat; while its head resembles that of thehare or rabbit. Both these innocent little creatures live upon the highdeclivities of the Andes, in holes and crevices among the rocks, wherethey remain concealed during the day, but steal out to feed twice in thetwenty-four hours, --that is, during the evening twilight and in theearly morning. The mode of capturing them is by snares made ofhorse-hair, which are set in front of their caves--just as we snarerabbits in a warren, except that for the rabbits we make use of lightelastic wire, instead of the horse-hair. Leon was delighted with the excursion, as the vaquero showed him how toset the snares, and told him a great many curious stories of Puna lifeand habits. Some of these stories were about the great condorvulture--which the narrator, of course, described as a much bigger birdthan it really is, for the condor, after all, is not so much bigger thanthe griffon vulture, or even the vulture of California. But you, youngreader, have already had a full account of the vultures of America--thecondor among the rest--therefore we shall not repeat what was said bythe vaquero about this interesting bird. On the way to the place where the snares were to be set, they passed alagoon, or marshy lake, in which were many kinds of birds peculiar tothese high regions. Out on the open water they saw a wild goose of avery beautiful species. It is called the "Huachua" goose. Its plumage isof a snowy whiteness, all except the wings, which are bright green andviolet, while the beak, legs, and feet, are scarlet. They also saw twospecies of ibis wading about in the marsh, and a gigantic water-henalmost as big as a turkey. This last is of a dark grey colour, with ared beak, at the base of which is a large yellow knob of the shape of abean. On this account it is called by the Indians "bean nose. " Upon the plain, near the border of the marsh, they noticed a beautifulplover, having plumage marked very much like that of the "huachua"goose, with green wings shining in the sun like polished metal. Anothercurious bird also sat upon the plain, or flew around their heads. Thiswas a bird of prey of the species of jerfalcons (_Polyborus_). Thevaquero called it the "Huarahua. " He told Leon it preyed only oncarrion, and never killed its own food; that it was very harmless andtame--which was evidently true, as, shortly after, one of them seatedupon a stone allowed the Indian to approach and knock it over with astick! Such a silly bird Leon had never seen. The vaquero was quite a naturalist in his way--that is, he knew all theanimals of the Puna, and their habits, just as you will sometimes find agamekeeper in our own country, or often a shepherd or farm-servant. Hepointed out a rock-woodpecker, which he called a "pito" (_Colaptesrupicola_), that was fluttering about and flying from rock to rock. Likethe cliff-parrots we have already mentioned, this rock-woodpecker was acurious phenomenon, for, as their very name implies, the woodpeckers areall tree-dwelling birds, yet here was one of the genus living amongrocks where not a tree was to be seen, and scarcely a plant, except thethorny cactuses and magueys, with which succulent vegetables thewoodpecker has nothing to do. The "pito" is a small, brown, speckledbird, with yellow belly, and there were great numbers of them flyingabout. But the bird which most fixed the attention of Leon was a little birdabout the size of a starling. Its plumage was rather pretty. It wasbrown, with black stripes on the back, and white-breasted. But it wasnot the plumage of the bird that interested Leon. It was what hiscompanion told him of a singular habit which it had--that of repeating, at the end of every hour during the night, its melancholy and monotonousnote. The Indians call this bird the "cock of the Inca, " and theymoreover regard it with a sort of superstitious reverence. Having placed his snares, the vaquero set out to return with hisyouthful companion. As they walked back along the mountain-foot, a foxstole out from the rocks and skulked towards the marshy lake, no doubtin search of prey. This fox was the _Canis Azarĉ_, a most troublesomespecies, found all through South America. He is the great pest of thePuna shepherds, as he is a fierce hunter, and kills many of the younglambs and alpacos. The vaquero was sorry he had not his dogs with him, as, from the routethe fox had taken, he would have been certain to have captured him, andthat would have been worth something, for the great sheep-owners givetheir shepherds a sheep for every old fox that they can kill, and forevery young one a lamb. But the dogs, on this occasion, had been leftbehind, lest they should have bitten Leon, and the vaquero was compelledto let "Reynard" go his way. It was night when they returned to the hut, and then, after Leon had related the details of their excursion, allretired to rest. CHAPTER VIII. LLAMAS, ALPACOS, VICUÑAS, AND GUANACOS. Our travellers were stirring by early break of day. As they issued fromthe hut, a singular and interesting scene presented itself to theireyes. At one view--one _coup d'oeil_--they beheld the whole four speciesof the celebrated camel-sheep of the Andes; for there are four ofthem, --llama, guanaco, alpaco, and vicuña! This was a rare sight, indeed. They were all browsing upon the open plain: first, the llamas, near the hut; then a flock of tame alpacos, out upon the plain; thirdly, a herd of seven guanacos farther off; and still more distant, a largerherd of the shy vicuñas. The guanacos and vicuñas were of uniformcolours, --that is, in each flock the colour of the individuals was thesame; while among the llamas and alpacos there were many varieties ofcolour. The latter two kinds were tame, --in fact, they were under thecharge of Guapo's friend the shepherd, whereas the herds of vicuñas andguanacos consisted of wild animals. Perhaps no animal of South America has attracted so much attention asthe llama, as it was the only beast of burden the Indians had trained totheir use on the arrival of Europeans in that country. So many strangestories were told by the earlier Spanish travellers regarding this"camel-sheep, " that it was natural that great interest should attach toit. These reported that the llama was used for riding. Such, however, isnot the case. It is only trained to carry burdens; although an Indianboy may be sometimes seen on the back of a llama for mischief, or whencrossing a stream and the lad does not wish to get his feet wet. The llama is three feet high from hoof to shoulder, though his long neckmakes him look taller. His colour is generally brown, with black andyellow shades, sometimes speckled or spotted; and there are black andwhite llamas, but these are rare. His wool is long and coarse, thoughthe females, which are smaller, have a finer and better wool. The latterare never used to carry burdens, but only kept for breeding. They arefed in flocks upon the Puna heights, and it was a flock of these thatour travellers saw near the hut. The males are trained to carry burdens at the age of four years. Apack-saddle, called _yergua_, woven out of course wool, is fastened onthe back, and upon this the goods are placed. The burden never exceeds120 or 130 pounds. Should a heavier one be put on, the llama, like thecamel, quite understands that he is "over-weighted, " and neither coaxingnor beating will induce him to move a step. He will lie down, or, ifmuch vexed, spit angrily at his driver, and this spittle has a highlyacrid property, and will cause blisters on the skin where it touches. Sometimes a llama, over vexed by ill-treatment, has been known, indespair, to dash his brains out against a rock. The llamas are used much in the mines of Peru, for carrying the ore. They frequently serve better than either asses or mules, as they canpass up and down declivities where neither ass nor mule can travel. Theyare sometimes taken in long trains from the mountains down to the coastregion for salt and other goods; but on such occasions many of them die, as they cannot bear the warm climate of the lowlands. Their proper andnative place is on the higher plains of the Andes. A string of llamas, when on a journey, is a very interesting spectacle. One of the largest is usually the leader. The rest follow in singlefile, at a slow, measured pace, their heads ornamented tastefully withribands, while small bells, hanging around their necks, tinkle as theygo. They throw their high heads from side to side, gazing around them, and when frightened at anything, will "break ranks, " and scamper out oftheir path, to be collected again with some trouble. When resting, they utter a low, humming noise, which has been comparedto the sound of an Eolian harp. They crouch down on their breast--wherethere is a callosity--when about to receive their burdens, and alsosleep resting in the same attitude. A halt during the day is necessary, in order that they may be fed, as these animals will not eat by night. In consequence of this they make but short journeys--ten to fifteenmiles--although they will travel for a long time, allowing them a day'srest out of every five or six. Like the camels of the East, they can godays without water, and Buffon knew one that went _eighteen months_without it! but Buffon is very poor authority. When one of them becomeswearied, and does not wish to proceed, it is exceedingly difficult tocoax him onward. These animals were at one time very valuable. On the discovery ofAmerica a llama cost as much as eighteen or twenty dollars. But theintroduction of mules and other beasts of burden has considerablycheapened them. At present they are sold for about four dollars in themining districts, but can be bought where they are bred and reared forhalf that amount. In the days of the Incas their flesh was much used asfood. It is still eaten; but for this purpose the common sheep ispreferred, as the flesh of the llama is spongy and not very wellflavoured. The wool is used for many sorts of coarse manufacture. Somuch for llamas. Now the "guanaco. " This animal (whose name is sometimes written "huanaca, " though thepronunciation is the same with "guanaco" or "guanaca") is larger thanthe llama, and for a long time was considered merely as the wild llama, or the llama _run wild_, in which you will perceive an essentialdistinction. It is neither, but an animal of specific difference. Itexists in a wild state in the high mountains, though, with great careand trouble, it can be domesticated and trained to carry burdens as wellas its congener the llama. In form it resembles the latter, but, as isthe case with most wild animals, the guanacos are all alike in colour. The upper parts of the body are of a reddish brown, while underneath itis a dirty white. The lips are white, and the face a dark grey. The woolis shorter than that of the llama, and of the same length all over thebody. The guanaco lives in herds of five or seven individuals, and theseare very shy, fleeing to the most inaccessible cliffs when any oneapproaches them. Like the chamois of Switzerland and the "bighorn" ofthe Rocky Mountains, they can glide along steep ledges when neither mennor dogs can find footing. The "alpaco, " or "paco, " as it is sometimes called, is one of the mostuseful of the Peruvian sheep, and is more like the common sheep than theothers. This arises from its bulkier shape, caused by its thick fleeceof long wool. The latter is soft, fine, and often five inches in length;and, as is well known, has become an important article in themanufacture of cloth. Its colour is usually either white or black, though there are some of the alpacos speckled or spotted. Ponchos arewoven out of alpaco-wool by the Indians of the Andes. The alpaco is a domesticated animal, like the llama, but it is not usedfor carrying burdens. It is kept in large flocks, and regularly shorn assheep are. If one of the alpacos gets separated from the flock, it willlie down and suffer itself to be beaten to death, rather than go the wayits driver wishes. You have, no doubt, sometimes seen a common sheepexhibit similar obstinacy. Of all the Peruvian sheep the vicuña is certainly the prettiest and mostgraceful. It has more the form of the deer or antelope than of thesheep, and its colour is so striking that it has obtained among thePeruvians the name of the animal itself, _color de vicuña_ (vicuñacolour). It is of a reddish yellow, not unlike that of our domestic redcat, although the breast and under parts of the body are white. Theflesh of the vicuña is excellent eating, and its wool is of more valuethan even that of the alpaco. Where a pound of the former sells for onedollar--which is the usual price--the pound of alpaco will fetch only aquarter of that sum. Hats and the finest fabrics can be woven from thefleece of the vicuña, and the Incas used to clothe themselves in richstuffs manufactured from it. In the present day the "ricos, " or richproprietors of Peru, pride themselves in possessing ponchos of vicuñawool. The vicuña inhabits the high plains of the Andes, though, unlike theguanaco, it rarely ventures up the rocky cliffs, as its hoofs are onlycalculated for the soft turf of the plains. It roams about in largerherds than the other--eighteen or twenty in the herd--and these areusually females under the protection and guidance of one polygamous oldmale. While feeding, the latter keeps watch over the flock, usuallyposting himself at some distance, so that he may have a betteropportunity of seeing and hearing any danger that may approach. When anyis perceived, a shrill whistle from the leader and a quick stroke of hishoof on the turf warn the flock; and all draw closely together, eachstretching out its head in the direction of the danger. They then taketo flight, at first slowly, but afterwards with the swiftness of theroe; while the male, true to his trust, hangs in the rear, and halts atintervals, as if to cover the retreat of the herd. The llama, guanaco, alpaco, and vicuña, although different species, willbreed with each other; and it is certain that some of their hybrids willagain produce young. There exist, therefore, many intermediatevarieties, or "mules, " throughout the countries of the Andes, some ofwhich have been mistaken for separate species. CHAPTER IX. A VICUÑA HUNT. The vicuña being of such value, both inside and out, both in flesh andwool, is hunted by the mountain Indians with great assiduity. It is ananimal most difficult to approach, and there is rarely any cover onthese naked plains by which to approach it. The chief mode of capturing it is by the "chacu. " This cannot beeffected by a single hunter. A great number is required. Usually thewhole population of one of the villages of the "Sierras" lower downturns out for this sport, or rather business, for it is an annual sourceof profit. Even the women go along, to cook and perform other offices, as the hunt of the _chacu_ sometimes lasts a week or more. A hunting party will number from fifty to one hundred persons. Theyclimb up to the _altos_, or high and secluded plains, where the vicuñadwells in greatest numbers. They carry with them immense coils of ropes, and a large quantity of coloured rags, together with bundles of stakesthree or four feet in length. When a proper part of the plain has beenchosen, they drive in the stakes four or five yards apart and running inthe circumference of a circle, sometimes nearly a mile in diameter. A rope is then stretched from stake to stake, at the height of betweentwo and three feet from the ground, and over this rope are hung thecoloured rags provided for the occasion, and which keep fluttering inthe wind. A sort of scare-crow fence is thus constructed in the form ofa ring, except that on one side a space of about two hundred yards isleft open to serve as an entrance for the game. The Indians then, mostof them on horseback, make a grand détour, extending for miles over thecountry; and having got behind the herds of vicuñas, drive them withinthe circle, and close up the entrance by completing the ring. The hunters then go inside, and using the _bolas_, or even seizing theanimals by their hind-legs, soon capture the whole. Strange to say, these silly creatures make no attempt to break through the sham fence, nor even to leap over it. Not so with the guanacos, when so enclosed. The latter spring against the fence at once, and if, by chance, a partyof guanacos be driven in along with the vicuñas, they not only breakopen the rope enclosure and free themselves, but also the whole herd oftheir cousins, the vicuñas. It is, therefore, not considered any gain toget a flock of guanacos into the trap. The hunt usually lasts several days, but during that time the enclosureof ropes is flitted from place to place, until no more vicuñas can befound. Then the ropes, stakes, &c. , are collected, and the produce ofthe hunt distributed among the hunters. But the Church levies its taxupon the "chacu, " and the skins--worth a dollar each--have to be givenup to the priest of the village. A good round sum this amounts to, asfrequently four or five hundred vicuñas are taken at a single _chacu_. A good hunter is sometimes able to "approach" the vicuña. Guapo's friendwas esteemed one of the best in all the Puna. The sight of the herd outon the plain, with their graceful forms, and beautiful reddish-orangebodies, was too much for him, and he resolved to try his skill uponthem. He said he had a plan of his own, which he intended to practise onthis occasion. Don Pablo and his party--even Doña Isidora and the little Leona--wereall outside the hut, although the morning air was raw and chill. But thedomicile of the worthy vaquero was not empty, for all that. It waspeopled by a very large colony of very small animals, and a night intheir society had proved enough for the travellers. The chill air of thePuna was even more endurable than such company. The vaquero crawled back into the hut, and in a few minutes returned, but so metamorphosed, that had the party not seen him come out of thedoorway they would have mistaken him for a llama! He was completelydisguised in the skin of one of these animals. His face only was partlyvisible, and his eyes looked out of the breast. The head and neck of theskin, stuffed with some light substance, stood up and forward, after themanner of the living animal, and although the legs were a little clumsy, yet it would have required a more intelligent creature than the vicuñato have observed this defect. All hands, even the saturnine Guapo, laughed loudly at the counterfeit, and the vaquero himself was heard to chuckle through the long wool uponthe breast. He did not lose time, however, but instantly prepared to setoff. He needed no other preparation than to get hold of his_bolas_, --that was his favourite weapon. Before going farther, I shalltell you what sort of weapon it is. The bolas consist of three balls--hence the name--of lead or stone, twoof them heavier than the third. Each ball is fastened to the end of astout thong made of twisted sinews of the vicuña itself, and the otherends of the three thongs are joined together. In using them the hunterholds the lightest ball in his hand, and twirls the other two in circlesaround his head, until they have attained the proper velocity, when hetakes aim and launches them forth. Through the air fly the thongs and balls, and all whirling round incircles, until they strike some object; and if that object be the legsof an animal, the thongs become immediately warped around them, untilthe animal is regularly hoppled, and in attempting to escape comes atonce to the ground. Of course great practice is required before such aninstrument can be used skilfully; and to the novice there is some dangerof one of the balls hitting him a crack on the head, and knocking overhimself instead of the game. But there was no danger of Guapo's friendthe vaquero committing this blunder. He had been swinging the bolasaround his head for more than forty years! Without more ado, then, he seized the weapon, and, having gathered itwith his _fore-feet_ into a portable shape, he proceeded in thedirection of the vicuñas. The travellers remained by the hut, watching him with interest, but hismovements were particularly interesting to Leon, who, like all boys, wasnaturally fond of such enterprises. The herd of vicuñas was not more than three quarters of a mile off. Forthe first half of this distance the vaquero shambled along rightspeedily, but as he drew nearer to the animals he proceeded slower andwith more caution. The pretty creatures were busily browsing, and had no fear. They knewthey were well guarded by their faithful sentinel, in whom they hadevery confidence, --the lord and leader of the herd. Even from the hut, this one could be seen standing some distance apart from the rest. Hewas easily recognised by his greater bulk and prouder bearing. The false llama has passed near the guanacos, and they have taken noheed of him. This is a good omen, for the guanacos are quite as sharpand shy as their smaller cousins, and since he has succeeded indeceiving them, he will likely do the same for the vicuñas. Already heapproaches them. He does not make for the herd, but directly for theleader. Surely he is near enough; from the hut he seems close up to thecreature. See! the vicuña tosses his head and strikes the ground withhis hoof. Listen! it is his shrill whistle. The scattered herd suddenlystart and flock together; but, look! the _llama_ stands erect on hishind-legs; the bolas whirl around his head--they are launched out. Ha!the vicuña is down! Where is the female drove? Have they scampered off and forsaken theirlord? No! faithful as a loving wife, they run up to share his danger. With shrill cries they gather around him, moving to and fro. The llamais in their midst. See! he is dealing blows with some weapon--it is aknife! his victims fall around him--one at every blow; one by one theyare falling. At last, at last, they are all down, --yes, the whole herdare stretched, dead or dying, upon the plain! The struggle is over; no sound is heard, save the hoof-stroke of theguanacos, llamas, and alpacos, that cover the plain in their wildflight. Leon could no longer restrain his curiosity; but ran off to the scene ofthe slaughter. There he counted no less than nineteen vicuñas lyingdead, each one stabbed in the ribs! The Indian assured him that it wasnot the first _battue_ of the kind he had made. A whole herd of vicuñasis often taken in this way. When the male is wounded or killed, thefemales will not leave him; but, as if out of gratitude for theprotection he has during life afforded them, they share his fate withoutmaking an effort to escape! CHAPTER X. CAPTURING A CONDOR. The vaquero with his horse soon dragged the vicuñas to the hut. Guapogave him a help with the mule, and in a few minutes they were allbrought up. One of them was immediately skinned, and part of it preparedfor breakfast, and our travellers ate heartily of it, as the cold Punaair had given an edge to their appetites. The new-killed animals, along with the red skin of the bull, which hadbeen spread out on the ground at some distance from the hut, had alreadyattracted the condors; and four or five of these great birds were nowseen hovering in the air, evidently with the intention of alighting atthe first opportunity. An idea seemed to enter the head of the vaquero, while his guests werestill at breakfast, and he asked Leon if he would like to see a condorcaught. Of course Leon replied in the affirmative. What boy wouldn'tlike to see a condor caught? The vaquero said he would gratify him with the sight, and withoutstaying to finish his breakfast--indeed he had had his "coceada, " anddidn't care for any, --he started to his feet, and began to makepreparations for the capture. How he was to catch one of these great birds, Leon had not the slightestidea. Perhaps with the "bolas, " thought he. That would have done wellenough if he could only get near them; but the condors were sufficientlyshy not to let any man within reach either with bolas or guns. It isonly when they have been feasting on carrion, and have gorged themselvesto repletion, that they can be thus approached, and then they may beeven knocked over with sticks. At other times the condor is a shy and wary bird. No wonder either thathe is so, for, unlike most other vultures, he is hunted and killed atall times. The vultures of most countries are respected by the people, because they perform a valuable service in clearing away carrion; and inmany parts these birds are protected by statute. There are laws in theSouthern United States, and in several of the Spanish-AmericanRepublics, which impose fines and penalties for killing the blackvultures. In some Oriental countries, too, similar laws exist. But nostatute protects the condor. On the contrary, he is a proscribed bird, and there is a bounty on his head, because he does great damage to theproprietors of sheep, and llamas, and alpacos, killing and devouring theyoung of these animals. His large quills, moreover, are much prized inthe South American cities, and the killing of a condor is worthsomething. All this will account for the shyness of this great bird, while other vultures are usually so tame that you may approach within afew paces of them. As yet the half-dozen condors hovering about kept well off from the hut;and Leon could not understand how any one of them was to be caught. The vaquero, however, had a good many "dodges, " and after the _ruse_ hehad just practised upon the vicuñas, Leon suspected he would employ somesimilar artifice with the condors. Leon was right. It was by a stratagemthe bird was to be taken. The vaquero laid hold of a long rope, and lifting the bull's hide uponhis shoulders, asked Guapo to follow him with the two horses. When hehad got out some four or five hundred yards from the hut, he simplyspread himself flat upon the ground, and drew the skin over him, thefleshy side turned upward. There was a hollow in the ground about as bigas his body--in fact, a trench he had himself made for a formeroccasion--and when lying in this on his back, his breast was about on alevel with the surrounding turf. His object in asking Guapo to accompany him with the horses was simply a_ruse_ to deceive the condors, who from their high elevation were allthe while looking down upon the plain. But the vaquero covered himselfso adroitly with his red blanket, that even their keen eyes couldscarcely have noticed him; and as Guapo afterwards left the ground withthe led horses, the vultures supposed that nothing remained but theskin, which from its sanguinary colour to them appeared to be flesh. The birds had now nothing to fear from the propinquity of the hut. Therethe party were all seated quietly eating their breakfast, and apparentlytaking no notice of them. In a few minutes' time, therefore, theydescended lower, and lower, --and then one of the very largest droppedupon the ground within a few feet of the hide. After surveying it for amoment, he appeared to see nothing suspicious about it, and hopped alittle closer. Another at this moment came to the ground--which gavecourage to the first--and this at length stalked boldly on the hide, andbegan to tear at it with his great beak. A movement was now perceived on the part of the vaquero--the hide"lumped" up, and at the same time the wings of the condor were seen toplay and flap about as if he wanted to rise into the air, but could not. He was evidently held by the legs! The other bird had flown off at the first alarm, and the whole band weresoon soaring far upward into the blue heavens. Leon now expected to see the vaquero uncover himself. Not so, however, as yet. That wily hunter had no such intention, and although he was nowin a sitting posture, grasping the legs of the condor, yet his head andshoulders were still enveloped in the bull's hide. He knew better thanto show his naked face to the giant vulture, that at a single "peck" ofhis powerful beak would have deprived him of an eye, or otherwiseinjured him severely. The vaquero was aware of all this, and thereforedid not leave his hiding-place until he had firmly knotted one end ofthe long cord around the shank of the bird--then slipping out at oneside, he ran off to some distance before stopping. The condor, apparently relieved of his disagreeable company, made a sudden effortand rose into the air, carrying the hide after him. Leon shouted out, for he thought the vulture had escaped; but the vaquero knew better, ashe held the other end of the cord in his hand; and the bird, partly fromthe weight of the skin, and partly from a slight tug given by thehunter, soon came heavily to the ground again. The vaquero was nowjoined by Guapo; and, after some sharp manoeuvring, they succeededbetween them in passing the string through the nostrils of the condor, by which means it was quietly conducted to the hut, and staked on theground in the rear--to be disposed of whenever its captor should thinkfit. CHAPTER XI. THE PERILS OF A PERUVIAN ROAD. It was as yet only an hour or so after daybreak--for the vicuña hunt hadoccupied but a very short time and the capture of the condor a stillshorter. Don Pablo was anxious to be gone, as he knew he was not beyondthe reach of pursuit. A pair of the vicuñas were hastily prepared, andpacked upon a llama for use upon their journey. Thus furnished, theparty resumed their route. The vaquero did not accompany them. He had an office to perform of farmore importance to their welfare and safety. As soon as they were gonehe let loose his four snarling curs, and taking them out to where thepile of dead vicuñas lay upon the plain, he left them there withinstructions to guard the carcasses from foxes, condors, or whateverelse might wish to make a meal off them. Then mounting, he rode off tothe place where the road leading from Cuzco ascended upon thetable-land, and having tied his horse to a bush, he climbed upon aprojecting rock and sat down. From this point he commanded a view of thewinding road to the distance of miles below him. No traveller--much less a party of soldiers--could approach without hisseeing them, even many hours before they could get up to where he sat;and it was for that reason he had stationed himself there. Had Don Pablobeen pursued, the faithful Indian would have galloped after and givenhim warning, long before his pursuers could have reached the plain. He sat until sunset--contenting himself with a few leaves of coca. Nopursuer appeared in sight. He then mounted his horse, and rode back tohis solitary hut. Let us follow our travellers. They crossed the table-plain during the day, and rested that night underthe shelter of some overhanging rocks on the other side. They suppedupon part of the vicuñas, and felt more cheerful, as they widened thedistance between themselves and danger. But in the morning they did notremain longer by their camp than was necessary to get breakfast. Half-an-hour after sunrise saw them once more on their route. Their road led through a pass in the mountains. At first it ascended, and then began to go downward. They had crossed the last ridge of theAndes, and were now descending the eastern slopes. Another day'sjourney, or two at most, would bring them to the borders of that wildforest, which stretches from the foot-hills of the Andes to the shoresof the Atlantic Ocean--that forest with scarcely a civilised settlementthroughout all its wide extent--where no roads exist--whose only pathsare rivers--whose dark jungles are in places so impenetrable that theIndian cannot enter them, and even the fierce jaguar, embarrassed by thethick underwood, has to take to the tree-tops in pursuit of his prey. Another day's journey or so would bring them to the borders of the"Montaña"--for such is the name which, by a strange misapplication ofterms, has been given to this primeval wood. Yes, the Montaña was beforethem, and although yet distant, it could now and then be seen as theroad wound among the rocks, stretching far towards the sky like a greenand misty ocean. In that almost boundless region there dwelt none but the aborigines ofthe soil--the wild Indians--and these only in sparse and distant bands. Even the Spaniards in their day of glory had failed to conquer it; andthe Portuguese from the other side were not more successful. The Spanish colonists, on the Peruvian or western border of this immenseforest, had never been able to penetrate it as colonists or settlers. Expeditions from time to time had passed along its rivers in search ofthe fabled gold country of _Manoa_, whose king each morning gave himselfa coating of gold dust, and was hence called El Dorado (the gilded); butall these expeditions ended in mortification and defeat. The settlementsnever extended beyond the _sierras_, or foot-hill of the Andes, whichstretch only a few days' journey (in some places but a score of leagues)from the populous cities on the mountain-heights. Even at this present time, if you travel thirty leagues eastward of thelarge town of Cuzco, in the direction taken by Don Pablo, you will passthe boundaries of civilisation, and enter a country unexplored andaltogether unknown to the people of Cuzco themselves! About the"Montaña" very little is known in the settlements of the Andes. Fiercetribes of Indians, the jaguar, the vampire bat, swarms of mosquitoes, and the hot atmosphere, have kept the settler, as well as the curioustraveller, out of these wooded plains. Don Pablo had already passed the outskirts of civilisation. Anysettlement he might find beyond would be the hut of some half-wildIndian. There was no fear of his encountering a white face upon theunfrequented path he had chosen, though had he gone by some other routehe might have found white settlements extending farther to the eastward. As it was, the wilderness lay before him, and he would soon enter it. _And what was he to do in the wilderness?_ He knew not. He had neverreflected on that. He only knew that behind him was a relentless foethirsting for his life. To go back was to march to certain death. He hadno thoughts of returning. That would have been madness. His property wasalready confiscated--his death decreed by the vengeful Viceroy, whosesoldiers had orders to capture or slay, whenever they should find him. His only hope, then, was to escape beyond the borders ofcivilisation--to hide himself in the great Montaña. Beyond this he hadformed no plan. He had scarcely thought about the future. Forward, then, for the Montaña! The road which our travellers followed was nothing more than a narrowpath or "trail" formed by cattle, or by some party of Indiansoccasionally passing up from the lower valleys to the mountain-heights. It lay along the edge of a torrent that leaped and foamed over its rockybed. The torrent was no doubt on its way to join the greatest of rivers, the mighty Amazon--the head-waters of which spring from all parts of theAndes, draining the slopes of these mountains through more than twentydegrees of latitude. Towards evening the little party were beginning to enter among themountain spurs, or foot-hills. Here the travelling grew exceedinglydifficult, the path sometimes running up a steep acclivity and thendescending into deep ravines--so deep and dark that the sun's raysseemed hardly to enter them. The road was what Spanish-Americans term, "_Cuesta arriba, cuesta abajo_" (up hill, down hill). In no part of the world are such roads to be met with as among the AndesMountains, both in South America and in their Mexican continuationthrough the northern division of the continent. This arises from thepeculiar geological structure of these mountains. Vast clefts traversethem, yawning far into the earth. In South America these are called_quebradas_. You may stand on the edge of one of them and look sheerdown a precipice two thousand feet! You may fancy a whole mountainscooped out and carried away, and yet you may have to reach the bottomof this yawning gulf by a road which seems cut out of the face of thecliff, or rather has been formed by a freak of Nature--for in thesecountries the hand of man has done but little for the roads. Sometimes the path traverses a ledge so narrow that scarce room is foundfor the feet of your trusty mule. Sometimes a hanging bridge has to becrossed, spanning a horrid chasm, at the bottom of which roars a foamingtorrent--the bridge itself, composed of ropes and brambles, all thewhile swinging like a hammock under the tread of the affrightedtraveller! He who journeys through the tame scenery of European countries can formbut little idea of the wild and dangerous highways of the Andes. Eventhe passes of the Alps or Carpathians are safe in comparison. On thePeruvian road the lives of men and animals are often sacrificed. Mulesslide from the narrow ledges, or break through the frail "soga" bridges, carrying their riders along with them, whirling through empty air to beplunged into foaming waters or dashed on sharp rocks below. These are accidents of continual occurrence; and yet, on account of theapathy of the Spano-Indian races that inhabit these countries, little isdone for either roads or bridges. Every one is left to take care ofhimself, and get over them as he best may. It is only now and then thatpositive necessity prompts to a great effort, and then a road isrepaired or a broken bridge patched with new ropes. But the road that was travelled by Don Pablo had seen no repairs--therewere no bridges. It was, in fact, a mere pathway where the travellerscrambled over rocks, or plunged into the stream, and forded or swamacross it as he best could. Sometimes it lay along the water's edge, keeping in the bottom of the ravine; at other places no space was leftby the water, and then the path ascended and ran along some ledgeperhaps for miles, at the end of which it would again descend to the bedof the stream. CHAPTER XII. ENCOUNTER UPON A CLIFF. That night they encamped in the bottom of the ravine close to thewater's edge. They found just enough of level ground to enable them tostretch themselves, but they were contented with that. There was nothingfor the animals to eat except the succulent, but thorny, leaves of the_Cactus opuntia_, or the more fibrous blades of the wild agave. Thisevening there were no quinoa seeds to be had, for none of these treesgrew near. Even the botanist, Don Pablo, could find no vegetablesubstance that was eatable, and they would have to sup upon the vicuñameat, without bread, potatoes, or other vegetables. Their stock of ocas, ullucas, and macas, was quite out. They had cooked the last of the macasfor that morning's meal. Guapo here came to their relief. Guapo's experience went beyond thetheoretical knowledge of the botanist. Guapo knew a vegetable which wasgood to eat--in fact, a most delicious vegetable when cooked with meat. This was no other than the fleshy heart of the wild maguey (_agave_), with part of the adhering roots. Among naked rocks, in the most barrenparts of the desert wilderness, the wild agave may be found growing inluxuriance. Its thick, succulent blades, when split open, exude a coolliquid, that often gives considerable relief to the thirsty traveller;while the heart, or egg-shaped nucleus from which spring the sheathingleaves--and even parts of the leaves themselves--when cooked with anysort of meat, become an excellent and nourishing food. The Indians make this use of the aloe on the high plains of NorthernMexico, among the roving bands of the Apaché, Navajo, and Comanché. These people cook them along with horse's flesh, for there the wildhorse is the principal food of whole tribes. Their mode of cooking, boththe flesh and the aloe, is by baking them together in little ovens ofstones sunk in the ground, and then heated by fire until they are nearlyred hot. The ashes are then cleared out, the meat and vegetables placedin the ovens, and then buried until both are sufficiently done. In fact, there is one tribe of the Apachés who have obtained the name of"Mezcaleros, " from the fact of their eating the wild aloe, which inthose countries goes under the name of "mezcal" plant. In many parts of the Andes, where the soil is barren, the wild maguey isalmost the only vegetation to be seen, and in such places the Indiansuse it as food. It seems to be a gift of Nature to the desert, so thateven there man may find something on which to subsist. Guapo with his knife had soon cleared off several large pieces of themaguey, and these, fried along with the vicuña meat, enabled the partyto make a supper sufficiently palatable. A cup of pure water from thecold mountain stream, sweeter than all the wine in the world, washed itdown; and they went to rest with hearts full of contentment andgratitude. They rose at an early hour, and, breakfasting as they had supped, oncemore took the road. After travelling a mile or two, the path gradually ascended along one ofthose narrow ledges that shelve out from the cliff, of which we havealready spoken. They soon found themselves hundreds of feet above thebed of the torrent, yet still hundreds of feet above them rose the wallof dark porphyry, seamed, and scarred, and frowning. The ledge or pathwas of unequal breadth--here and there forming little tables orplatforms. At other places, however, it was so narrow that those whowere mounted could look over the brink of the precipice into thefrothing water below--so narrow that no two animals could have passedeach other. These terrible passes were sometimes more than an hundredyards in length, and not straight, but winding around buttresses of therock, so that one end was not visible from the other. On frequented roads, where such places occur, it is usual fortravellers, entering upon them, to shout, so that any one who chances tobe coming from the opposite side, may have warning and halt. Sometimesthis warning is neglected, and two trains of mules or llamas meet uponthe ledge! Then there is a terrible scene--the drivers quarrel--oneparty has to submit--their animals have to be unloaded and dragged backby the heels to some wider part of the path, so that each party can getpast in its turn! Near the highest part of the road, our travellers had entered upon oneof these narrow ledges, and were proceeding along it with caution. Thetrusty mule, that carried Doña Isidora and Leona, was in front, thehorse followed, and then the llamas. It is safer to ride than walk onsuch occasions, especially upon mules, for these animals are moresure-footed than the traveller himself. The horse that carried Leon, however, was as safe as any mule. He was one of the smallSpanish-American breed, almost as sure-footed as a chamois. The torrent rushed and thundered beneath. It was fearful to listen andlook downward; the heads of all were giddy, and their hearts full offear. Guapo, alone accustomed to such dangers, was of steady nerve. Heand Don Pablo afoot were in the rear. [Illustration: GUAPO'S ENCOUNTER WITH THE BULLS. ] They had neared the highest point of the road, where a jutting rock hidall beyond from their view. They were already within a few paces of thisrock, when the mule--which, as we have stated, was in thefront--suddenly stopped, showing such symptoms of terror that DoñaIsidora and the little Leona both shrieked! Of course all the rest came to a halt behind the terrified and tremblingmule. Don Pablo, from behind, shouted out, inquiring the cause of thealarm; but before any answer could be given the cause became apparent toall. Around the rock suddenly appeared the head and horns of a fiercebull, and the next moment his whole body had come into view, whileanother pair of horns and another head were seen close behind him! It would be difficult to describe the feelings of our travellers at thatmoment. The bull came on with a determined and sullen look, until hestood nearly head to head with the mule. The smoke of his wide steamingnostrils was mingled with the breath of the terrified mule, and he heldhis head downward, and evidently with the intention of rushing forwardupon the latter. Neither could have gone back, and of course the fiercebull would drive the mule into the abyss. The other bull stood closebehind, ready to continue the work if the first one failed, and, perhaps, there were many others behind! The mule was sensible of her danger, and, planting her hoofs firmly onthe hard rock, she clung closely to the precipice. But this would nothave served her, had not a hand interposed in her behalf. Amidst theterrified cries of the children, the voice of Guapo was heard calling toDon Pablo, --"Your pistols, master! give me your pistols!" Something glided quickly among the legs of the animals. It was the lithebody of the Indian. In a second's time he appeared in front of the mule. The bull was just lowering his head to charge forward--his horns wereset--the foam fell from his lips--and his eyes glanced fire out of theirdark orbs. Before he could make the rush, there came the loud report ofa pistol--a cloud of sulphury smoke--a short struggle on the cliff--andthen a dead plunge in the torrent below! The smoke partially cleared away; then came another crack--anothercloud--another short struggle--and another distant plash in the water! The smoke cleared away a second time. The two bulls were no longer to beseen! Guapo, in front of the mule, now ran forward upon the ledge, and lookedaround the buttress of rock. Then, turning suddenly, he waved his hand, and shouted back, -- "No more, master; you may come on--the road is clear!" CHAPTER XIII. THE LONE CROSS IN THE FOREST. After two more days of fatiguing travel, the road parted from the bankof the river, and ran along the ridge of a high mountain spur in adirection at right angles to that of the Andes themselves. This spurcontinued for several miles, and then ended abruptly. At the point whereit ended, the path, which for the whole of the day had been scarcelytraceable, also came to an end. They were now of course in aforest-covered country--in the _Ceja de la Montaña_--that is, the forestthat covers the foot-hills of the mountains. The forest of the plains, which were yet lower down, is known as the "Montaña" proper. During that day they had found the road in several places choked up withunderwood, and Guapo had to clear it with his _macheté_--a sort ofhalf-sword, half-knife, used throughout all Spanish America, partly tocut brushwood and partly as a weapon of defence. Where the ridge ended, however, what had once been a road was now entirely overgrown--vines andllianas of large size crossed the path. Evidently no one had passed foryears. A road existed no longer; the luxuriant vegetation had effacedit. This is no unusual thing on the borders of the Montaña. Many asettlement had existed there in former times, and had been abandoned. Nodoubt the road they had been following once led to some such settlementthat had long since fallen into ruin. It is a melancholy fact that the Spanish-Americans--including theMexican nation--have been retrograding for the last hundred years. Settlements which they have made, and even large cities built by them, are now deserted and in ruins; and extensive tracts of country, onceoccupied by them, have become uninhabited, and have gone back to a stateof nature. Whole provinces, conquered and peopled by the followers ofCortez and Pizarro, have within the last fifty years been retaken fromthem _by the Indians_: and it would be very easy to prove, that had thedescendants of the Spanish conquerors, been left to themselves, anotherhalf century would have seen them driven from that very continent whichtheir forefathers so easily conquered and so cruelly kept. Thisre-conquest on the part of the Indian races was going on in a wholesaleway in the northern provinces of Mexico. But it is now interrupted bythe approach of another and stronger race from the East--theAnglo-American. To return to our travellers. Don Pablo was not surprised that the roadhad run out. He had been expecting this for miles back. What was to bedone? Of course they must halt for that night at least. Indeed it wasalready near camping-time. The sun was low in the sky, and the animalswere all much jaded. The llamas could not have gone much farther. Theylooked as if they should never go farther. The heat of the climate--ithad been getting warmer every hour--was too much for them. Theseanimals, whose native home is among the high cool mountain valleys, asalready observed, cannot live in the low tropical plains. Even as theydescended the Sierras they had shown symptoms of suffering from the heatduring all that day. Their strength was now fairly exhausted. The party halted. A little open space was chosen for the camp. Theanimals were relieved of their burdens and tied to the trees, lest theymight stray off and be lost in the thick woods. A fire was kindled, andpart of the vicuña meat cooked for supper. It was not yet night when they had finished eating, and all were seatedon the ground. The countenance of the father was clouded with amelancholy expression. Doña Isidora sat by his side and tried to cheerhim, endeavouring to force a smile into her large black eyes. The littleLeona, with her head resting on her mother's lap, overcome with the heatand fatigue, had fallen asleep. Leon, seeing the dejected look of hisfather, was silent and thoughtful. Guapo was busy with his llamas. "Come, dear husband!" said the lady, trying to assume a cheerful tone, "do not be so sad. We are now safe. Surely they will never pursue ushere. " "They may not, " mechanically replied Don Pablo; "but what then? We haveescaped death, for what purpose? Either to live like savages in thesewild woods--perhaps to be killed by savages--perhaps to die of hunger!" "Do not say so, Don Pablo. I have never heard that the Indians of theseparts were cruel. They will not injure poor harmless people such as weare. And as for starving, are not these luxuriant woods filled withroots and fruits that will sustain life a long while? You, too, know sowell what they are! Dear husband, do not despond; God will not forsakeus. He has enabled us to escape from our enemies, from fearful dangerson our journey. Fear not! He will not leave us to perish now. " The cheering words of his beautiful wife had their effect upon DonPablo. He embraced and kissed her in a transport of love and gratitude. He felt inspired with new hope. The vigour of mind and body, that fordays had deserted him, now suddenly returned; and he sprang to his feetevidently with some newly-formed resolution. The country both before and behind them was shut out from their view bythe thick foliage and underwood. A tall tree grew by the spot, withbranches down to the level of a man's head. Don Pablo approached thistree, and seizing the branches drew himself up, and then climbed ontowards its top. When he had reached a sufficient height, to overlookthe surrounding woods, he stopped; and, resting himself upon one of thebranches, looked abroad towards the east. All the rest stood watchinghim from below. He had been gazing but a few seconds when his face brightened up, and asmile of satisfaction was seen to play upon his countenance. Heevidently saw something that pleased him. Isidora, impatient, called outto him from below; but Don Pablo waved his hand to her, as ifadmonishing her to be silent. "Have patience, love, " he cried down. "I shall descend presently andtell you all. I have good news, but be patient. " It required a good share of patience, for Don Pablo after this remaineda full half-hour upon the tree. He was not all the time looking abroad, however. Part of it he sat upon his perch--his head leaning forward, andhis eyes not appearing to be particularly engaged with anything. He wasbusy with his thoughts, and evidently meditating on some great project. Perhaps the going down of the sun admonished him, as much as the desireof satisfying his wife's curiosity, but just as the bright orb wassinking among the far tree-tops he descended. "Now, Don Pablo, " said the fair Isidora, pretending to frown and lookangry, "you have tried our patience, have you not? Come, then, no moremystery, but tell us all. What have you seen?" "Forgive me, wife; you shall know all. " Both sat down upon the trunk of a dead tree that Guapo had felled, andwas cutting up for firewood: not that it was at all cold, but they hadnow arrived in the country of the terrible _jaguar_, and it would benecessary to keep up a blazing fire throughout the night. "Your words were true, love, " began Don Pablo. "God has not forsaken us. I have seen three things that have inspired me with fresh life and hope. "First, I looked out upon the Montaña, which I expected to seestretching away to the horizon, like a green ocean. I saw this in fact;but, to my surprise, I saw more. I beheld a broad river winding like animmense serpent through the distant forest. It ran in a directionnorth-east, as far as the eye could reach. Even upon the horizon I coulddistinguish spots of its bright water glancing like silver under therays of the setting sun. My heart leaped with joy, for I recognised ariver whose existence has been doubted. It can be no other, thought I, than the _Madre de Dios_. I have often heard that there existed such ariver in these parts, that runs on to the Amazon. A missionary is saidto have visited it, but with the destruction of the missions the recordhas been lost. I have no doubt the river I have seen is the _Madre deDios_ of that missionary. " The thought of being so near the banks of this river suggested otherthoughts. At once a design entered into my mind. "We can build a raft, "thought I, "launch it upon this noble river, and float down to theAmazon, and thence to the mouth of the great stream itself. There is aPortuguese settlement there--the town of Grand Para. There we shall besafe from our foes. " Such were my first thoughts on beholding the new river. I reflectedfurther. "Our fortune is gone, " I reflected; "we have nothing in thewide world--what should we do at Para, even if we arrived there insafety? How could we attempt such a journey without provisions. It wouldbe impossible. " My hopes fell as quickly as they had sprung up. "I noticed your countenance change as you sat upon the tree. " "True, you might easily have done so: the prospect of reaching Para, penniless, and becoming a beggar in the streets--the nearer prospect ofstarving in the wilderness of the Amazon--were before my mind. " My eyes for awhile were bent mechanically upon the green ocean oftree-tops. All at once an object arrested them. It was a patch of brightrose-coloured foliage, easily distinguishable amid the green leaves thatsurrounded it. It was not down in the Montaña--for that is a thousandfeet below us. It was upon the side of the Sierra. My eyes glancedquickly around. I beheld other patches of similar foliage, some of themnearly an acre in breadth. My heart again leaped with joy. I knew wellwhat these red spots of the forest were. They were clumps of _cinchona_trees--those trees that yield the celebrated febrifuge--the Peruvianbark! New ideas passed rapidly through my mind. "Our fortune is gone, " thoughtI. "Here is a fortune in these valuable trees. Here is a mine that onlyrequires to be worked. I shall turn _cascarillero_--I shall be a_bark-hunter_. " "At first I thought that we might gather the bark, and send Guapo tosell it in the towns of the Sierra. Then the idea came into my mind thatit might be possible to collect an immense quantity, store it up, builda great raft, float it down the rivers, and dispose of it in Para. Iknew that in this way it would more than quadruple its price--for thetraders of the Sierra purchase it from the poor cascarilleros, and haveenormous profits upon it from the larger merchants. "But how to live while making this store? Yes, how to live even on themorrow? Could we support ourselves by hunting, or find sustenance fromfruits and roots, as you have suggested? This was the most importantquestion of all, for our present necessities far outweighed our futureprospects. "The very thought of our necessity caused me once more to glance overthe forest, and I continued to scan it on all sides. My eye was againarrested, and fixed upon a point where I saw there existed a differentvegetation from any that could be seen elsewhere. There is a smallvalley about five hundred feet below us. It is a sort of table valley, and the stream along which we have been travelling runs through it, afterwards dashing over a fall to join the river below. In this valley Isaw huge broad leaves of a brilliant yellowish green. I knew them atonce to be the leaves of the great _musaceĉ_, either plantains orbananas. I thought, too, I could distinguish the form of the _yucca_plant. These are the certain signs of some settlement, or where one hasexisted. I fancy the latter is the correct idea, as I could distinguishneither house nor smoke. It may be some deserted Indian 'chacra, ' or itmay be the grounds of an old mission. In either case, we shall be likelyto find those useful plants from which we may obtain food. " "Oh, papa! mamma!" cried Leon, running up and interrupting theconversation. "See what is here among the trees! I declare it is a greatcross!" Don Pablo and Isidora walked towards the spot. There, sure enough, was alarge wooden cross planted in the ground, and leaning to one side. Thewood was much decayed, but the inscription that had been deeply cut inthe transverse beam was still legible. It was simply the Spanishphrase:-- "BRAZOS DE DIOS" (The arm of God). Isidora took Don Pablo by the hand, and looking steadfastly in his face, pointed to the inscription. "It _is_ true, " said she, "God protects us!" CHAPTER XIV. THE DESERTED MISSION. That night all went to rest with hope in their hearts, though still notwithout some anxiety. If you reflect upon the situation in which they were placed, you willnot wonder that they were anxious about the future. Their first care hadbeen to fly into the wilderness, without thinking upon the necessitiesthey might encounter there--without reflecting that they had made noprovision of food to sustain them. It is true that in the great Montañathere are many plants and trees whose roots and fruits can be eaten; buta traveller may go for days without finding one of these. Indeed, topass through this great forest, in most places, is impossible, socompletely are the creeping parasites matted and laced together. It isnecessary to keep along the rivers in a canoe or raft, else you cannotget from place to place. You cannot even walk along the banks of many of these rivers, as theunderwood hangs into the very water! For the same reason game is hard tobe procured, and neither Don Pablo nor Guapo were provided with properweapons to hunt with. Don Pablo's pistols were all the fire-arms theyhad, and Guapo had no other weapon than his macheté. With their presentmeans, then, there was very little chance of their killing any game, even should they have fallen in with it. But they saw none as yet, except some birds, such as parrots, macaws, and toucans, that flutteredamong the leaves. No wonder, then, they were anxious about what theyshould find to eat, or whether they should find anything at all. Don Pablo considered the cross a good omen, or rather a good _sign_. Some missionary must have planted it in years gone by. No doubt amissionary station must have been near; and it was highly probable thatwhat he had seen in the little valley below would turn out to be thevery place where it had stood. As soon as it became day, therefore, Don Pablo again ascended the treeto take the bearings of the valley, so that they should proceed towardsit. Guapo also climbed up, so that both might make sure of the routethey ought to take--for in the tangled forests of South America it is noeasy matter to reach any object, which you may have only seen at adistance from the top of a tree. Without a compass, the traveller soonloses his direction; and, after hours of vain exertion and deviouswandering, often finds himself at the very place from which he hadstarted. After carefully noting the direction of the valley, Don Pablo and Guapocame down from the tree; and while the former, assisted by Leon, packedand saddled the animals, Guapo was busy with his macheté in clearingaway the brushwood that obstructed the path. This did not turn out sucha task after all. It was only at the brow of the ridge, where theundergrowth had choked up the way. A little farther down it was quitepassable, and the party, animals and all, were soon winding down theSierra towards the valley. Half-an-hour's travelling brought them totheir destination; and then a shout of joy, coming simultaneously fromall of them, announced their arrival upon the spot. What was it that caused them to utter this shout of joy? Before themtowered the great _musaceĉ_--plantains and bananas. There were both:their broad yellow-green and wax-like leaves sheathing their succulentstems, and bending gracefully over to a length of twenty feet. Butbeautiful as were the leaves of these giant plants, more attractivestill to the eyes of our travellers were the huge clusters of fruit-podsthat hung from beneath them. Each of these would have weighed nearly anhundred-weight! There was food for hundreds. These plants grew by thewater's edge, in a damp soil--their natural habitat. Their leavesdrooped over the stream. Another plant, equally interesting, was seenfarther back, in a dry place. There were many of these ten or fifteenfeet high, and as thick as a man's wrist. This was the _yucca_ plant. All of them knew it. They knew that its roots produced the far-famedcassava. Cassava is bread. Hurrah! the staff of life was secure! But, more than this, there were fruits in abundance; there were mangoesand guavas, oranges and the celebrated cherimoya--the favourite of Peru. There were shaddocks and sweet limes; and see! yonder is a clump ofsugar-canes, with their thin silken leaves and yellow tassels waving inthe wind. Oh, look here! Here is a coffee-shrub, with its ripe, aromaticberries; and here is the cacao-tree. Coffee and chocolate--there was achoice of beverages! Ha! what have we here--this plant like an orangetree? It is a species of holly. As I live, it is the _yerba maté_, the"Paraguay tea. " What shall we light upon next? And so the delighted travellers went on, over the ground, through thethick-tangled weeds and convolvuli, making new discoveries at everystep. Even Guapo's favourite, the coca-shrub, was found growing amongthe rest, and the eyes of the old Indian sparkled at the sight of it. Don Pablo's first conjecture had been right. They had arrived at theruin of some old missionary station, long since deserted. Some zealousmonk had planted all these plants and trees; had for years, no doubt, tended them with care; had dreamt of establishing around this lonelyspot a great hierarchy, and making the "wilderness blossom as the rose. "An evil day had come--perhaps during the revolt of Juan Santos, or maybein the later revolution of Tupac Amaru. The hand of the savage had beenturned against the priest, who had fallen a victim, and his roof--themission-house--had been given to the flames. Not a vestige of buildingwas to be seen--neither stick nor stone--and had it not been for thecurious variety of vegetation collected on the spot, this oncecultivated and flourishing garden might have been taken for part of theprimeval forest. It must have been a long time since the place was inhabited, for greattrees and parasites had grown up in the midst of the cultivated plants. After the first transports of delight had to some extent subsided, aconsultation was held as to future proceedings. They were not long incoming to a conclusion. It was resolved that a house should be built inthe middle of this wild garden, which should be, for a time at least, their home. The poor llamas had made their last journey. They were to be killed. Guapo, although reluctant to part with his old favourites, knew thatthey could not live in the warm climate of the valley, and thereforeconsented. Their flesh, it is true, is none of the best, but it wouldtaste the better that no other was to be had; and their wool and skinswould be found useful. The llamas were killed. CHAPTER XV. THE GUACO AND THE CORAL SNAKE. It was Guapo himself that killed the llamas, and, having skinned them, he cut the flesh into thin strips, and hung it upon the branches to dryin the sun. This, of course, was necessary, as they had no salt to cureit with; but meat well dried under a hot sun will keep good for a longtime. It is curious, that in all Spanish-American countries theypreserve most of their meat in this way, whereas in North America, amongthe people of our own race, "jerked beef" (for that is the name we giveit) is very rare. Now, in Spanish-America there are vast depositories of salt--both inmines and on plains, with salt lakes--called _salinas_; yet, for want ofa proper commercial activity existing among these people, in many placesthe valuable article, salt, is both scarce and dear. In Mexico dried or"jerked" beef is called "tasajo. " In Peru, as we have stated, it is"charqui;" but mutton cured in this way is distinguished by the name"chalona. " Now as the llamas are a species of sheep, it was "chalona"that Guapo was making out of their mutton. The others were not idle; Don Pablo, assisted by Leon, was clearing aplace on which they intended to build the house, while the Doña Isidora, with her soft slender fingers (for the first time in her life, perhaps), was acting as laundress, and the little Leona assisted her as much asshe was able. Where did they get their soap, for they had not brought somuch as a single cake along with them? But Don Pablo was too good a botanist not to know the nature of thetrees that grew around, and the uses to which they could be applied. Near by grew a curious tree, which is known among the Indians as the_parapara_. It was the soap-berry of botanists and Don Pablo knew thatthe bark of the berries, when rubbed, produces a lather that will washlinen equal to the best "Castile. " Doña Isidora was not long in making atrial of it, and found this to be true. The little round stones of theberries, when cleared of the pulp, are very pretty, and are much used bythe missionaries in making rosaries. Leon found, dropping one of them ona stone, that it was as elastic as a ball of India rubber, for itrebounded several times the height of a man's head! In the evening they all rested from their various occupations, andseated themselves upon the new-cleared ground, upon the trunk of a treethat had been felled. They were one and all quite cheerful. They felt nomore apprehension of pursuit. It would have been a very revengefulenemy, indeed, who would have followed them so far into the wilderness. They had no fear of that. Doña Isidora had just cooked a kettle ofcoffee--they had both pots and kettles, for these were some of theutensils with which Guapo, even in the hurry of flight, had taken theprecaution to load his llamas. This coffee turned out to be of the finest quality. It was of a peculiarspecies, which has long been cultivated by the missionaries of Peru, andwhich yields a very high price. It used to be sent by the viceroys as avalued present to the kings of Spain. To sweeten the coffee some jointsof sugar-cane had been crushed, and boiled in a rough manner; and forbread they had roasted plantains. During the repast they were all quitemerry, and pleasant jokes were passed for the first time in many days. While thus engaged a singular sound fell upon their ears. It was like avoice repeating the word "Guaco!" They all listened. "Guaco--Guaco!"again came the voice. "Hola!" cried Leon, "Guapo--Guapo! there's some one calling you, Guapo. There again!--no--it's 'Guaco'--listen! Guaco--Guaco' What is it, Iwonder?" "That's the snake-bird, " quietly answered Guapo, who, it must beremembered, was a native of the Montaña, and knew a great deal bothabout the birds and beasts of these regions. "The snake-bird?" exclaimed Leon, evidently interested in the name. "Yes, young master!" replied Guapo; "look! yonder it goes!" The eyes of all were instantly turned in the direction pointed out byGuapo. There sure enough was a bird, not much larger than a commonpigeon, but which had all the appearance of a sparrow-hawk. It was"swallow-tailed, " however, and this, with its peculiar form and themanner of its flight, showed that it was one of the kite-hawks. Whenfirst noticed, it was perched upon the top of a high tree, but it soonflew to another not so high, uttering as it went, the "Guaco--Guaco!" Itthen pitched itself to a still lower branch, and was evidently aftersomething which none of the party could see. That something, however, soon became apparent. The ground had been cleared in a broad track downto the water's edge, and near the middle of the open space an object wasobserved in motion, making towards the weeds. That object was a snake. It was not a large one--not more than three feet in length--and itsbeautiful body, variegated with bands of black, red, and bright yellow, glistened as it moved. Its predominating colour was a fleshy red, orcoral, from whence it has its name, for both Don Pablo and Guapo, assoon as they saw it, pronounced it the "coral snake. " Beautiful as itappeared, all knew that it was one of the most poisonous ofserpents--one of the most dreaded of South American reptiles. The first thought of Guapo and Leon was to spring up, seize upon someweapon, and kill the creature. Don Pablo, however, restrained them. "Stay where you are, " said he; "be patient; we shall have a scene. Lookat the hawk, --see!" As Don Pablo spoke, the guaco, which had hopped down to the lowestbranches of a neighbouring tree, swooped suddenly at the snake, evidently aiming to clutch it around the neck. The latter, however, hadbeen too quick, and coiling itself, like a flash of lightning darted itshead out towards the bird in a threatening manner. Its eyes sparkledwith rage, and their fiery glitter could be seen even at many yardsdistance. The bird diverged from its course, and after passing the snake, turnedand swooped again from the opposite direction. But the reptile hadshifted its body so as to meet the attack, and its threatening head oncemore was reared high above its coiled body. The guaco was foiled asecond time. This second failure seemed to enrage the bird, as it turned at shorterintervals, and apparently losing all fear, fluttered over the reptile, striking both with beak and claws. The latter still kept in its coil, but its head moved hastily from side to side, so as always to "showfront" to its active antagonist. After this play had continued for some time, the snake was seen to drawin its head farther than usual, and the hawk, evidently somewhat off hisguard, deeming this a fair opportunity, pounced forward to seize it. Buthe was met half way. The head of the serpent shot forward like a rapier, and reached his breast. The hawk felt that he was wounded; and utteringa wild scream, he flew suddenly away. All eyes watched him as he flew off, expecting that he would fall--forthe bite of the coral snake will kill even a man in a few minutes, and abird or small animal in much less time. It is not correct to say thatall of them expected to see him fall. Guapo, from experience, knewbetter, and even Don Pablo, as a naturalist, had heard a strange accountof this singular bird, and was curious to witness the result. The hawk, therefore, was narrowly watched. It flew directly for a tree, up against the trunk of which, and clingingto its branches, grew a parasite or creeping plant. The latter was ofthe thickness of a willow rod, with long slender leaves, of a dark greencolour. The bird did not alight upon the top of the tree, but on abranch where it could reach the leaves of the creeper, which it beganimmediately to pluck and devour. In a short while it had eaten as manyas a dozen of these long leaves, when it again took to wing, and flewback in the direction of the snake. All had, for the moment, forgotten the snake, in their eagerness towatch the movements of the bird. To their astonishment the reptile wasstill in the same place, and coiled up as when last seen. This waseasily explained, however, as snakes who defend themselves in thatattitude usually remain coiled, until they are certain that their enemyhas gone away and will not return to the attack. The contest was now renewed with redoubled fury. The bird fought withfresh courage, knowing that he had taken precautions against a fatalresult, while the snake defended itself with the energy of despair. Thistime the battle was a short one. The guaco, using its wings, succeededin striking its antagonist upon the upraised head, and quickly followingup the blow, planted his talons so as to encircle the throat of hisvictim. The effect of his gripe was instantly apparent. The reptileunfolded itself, and the slender coral body was seen writhing andtwisting along the ground. But it did not remain long upon the ground, for in a few moments the guaco rose into the air, and carried thestruggling victim into the woods to devour it at his leisure. Now Guapo was exceedingly pleased at what had occurred. Why? It was notbecause such a scene was at all new to him. No; he had often witnessedsuch, and was no longer curious upon that head. It was something morethan mere curiosity that moved Guapo. When the affair was over, he rosefrom his seat, and stalking off to the place where the bird had beenseen to eat the leaves, he gathered a quantity of them, and thenreturned to the fire. Don Pablo recognised them as the leaves of a plantof the genus _Mikania_, and known popularly as the "vejuco de guaco. " Guapo knew nothing of the scientific designation of the plant, but hehad long ago been taught the valuable properties of its leaves as anantidote against the bite of the most poisonous snakes. He had knownthem to cure the bite of the cascabel (_rattle-snake_), and even of thesmall spotted viper, the most poisonous of all the American snakes. What, then, did Guapo with the leaves of the vejuco? First, he choppedthem up as fine as he could, and then, tying them tightly in a piece ofcotton cloth, he expressed from them a quantity of juice--enough for hispurpose. That done, with the point of a knife he made small incisionsbetween his toes, and also upon his breast and fingers. Into each ofthese incisions, even while the blood was flowing from them, he droppedthe juice of the Mikania, and rubbed it in with fresh leaves of theplant itself; and then, with some tufts of the soft floss of thesilk-cotton tree he covered the incisions, so as to stop the bleeding. He wound up this strange performance, by chewing some of the leaves, andswallowing about a spoonful of the juice. This made the "inoculation"complete, and Guapo, as he himself declared, was now invulnerable to thebite of the most venomous serpent! He offered to "inoculate" the others in the same way. They at firstrefused--Don Pablo among the rest--but after a day or two, when each ofthe party had met with several narrow escapes from vipers, coral snakes, and the much-dreaded "jararaca, " Don Pablo thought it prudent that allshould submit to the operation, and accordingly Guapo "doctored" theparty without more ado. CHAPTER XVI. THE PALM-WOODS. It happened, that upon the opposite side of the stream there was a broadtrack covered with palm-trees, while not one was to be seen on that sidewhere they intended building their house. As these are the mostconvenient trees for constructing a house to suit the hot climate of theMontaña, it appeared necessary that they should use them. But how werethey to get at them? The stream flowed between them and the camp; andalthough not a large river, yet at that place it was very wide and deep, for in the flat table valley it expanded to the dimensions of a littlelake. Below, where it issued out of the valley, it ran for some distance in adeep cleft between rocky banks almost or quite perpendicular, and abovethe valley it came dashing through an impassable ravine. If they couldonly get over to cut the palms, they knew they could roll them to thebank, and float them across the stretch of still water. But how to getover required some consideration. Guapo could swim like a water-dog, butDon Pablo could not; and Leon, having been brought up as a town boy, hadhad but little practice, and consequently was but a poor swimmer. What, then, was to be done, as Guapo could not well manage the palms withouthelp? After examining the stream, both above and below, no crossing placecould be found, but just at the point where it ran out of the valley, the space between the high banks was very narrow. A good long plankwould have reached across it--had they only had one--but that they hadnot. Now, upon the opposite bank there grew a tall tree. It was one ofthe beautiful silk-cotton trees already mentioned. It stood upon thevery edge of the chasm. Both Don Pablo and Guapo saw at a glance thatthis tree could be felled, and made to fall across the stream, so as toform the very bridge they wanted. Not much time was lost about it. Guapo, tying his axe upon hisshoulders, ran up the near side, until he was opposite the still runningwater; and then plunging in, swam across in a few seconds. He soon afterappeared on the opposite bank, at the root of the bombax, which heattacked in such a manner that one who did not know what he was aboutmight have fancied he was angry at it. In a few minutes a great notchappeared in the side of the tree, and Guapo continuing his sturdy blows, made the yellow chips fly out in showers. Of course the notch was cut onthe side next the stream, so that the tree would fall in that direction. The beaver understands that much, and Guapo had considerably moreintelligence than any beaver. In about half-an-hour the bombax began to creak and lean a little. ThenDon Pablo threw over a lasso, which had been brought along. Guapo noosedone end over a high limb, and tying a stone to the other, pitched itback to Don Pablo, who hauled it taut. Then a few cuts of the axe brokethe skin of the tree on the other side, Don Pablo pulled by the rope, and with a loud tear and a crash, and a vast deal of crackling amongthe branches, the great bombax settled into a horizontal position acrossthe chasm. The bridge was built. After all, it was no slight adventure to cross it. The rounded trunk wasanything but sure footing, and even had it been a flat plank, the depthof the chasm--nearly an hundred feet clear--and the white roaringtorrent below, were enough to shake the stoutest nerves. All, however, got over in safety, and proceeded up to the palm-woods. I say all--but Imean only the male population of the new settlement. Doña Isidora andthe little Leona remained by the camp, both of them busy scraping_yucca_ roots, to be manufactured into cassava, and then into bread. On arriving among the palm-trees, Don Pablo was struck with a singularfact. He observed (indeed, he had already noticed as much from theopposite side of the river) that instead of one species of palm, therewere not less than a dozen kinds growing in this wood. This was a veryunusual circumstance, as although two or three species are often foundtogether, such a varied collection as were there could only have beenmade by human hands. Here, again, was recognised the work of themissionary monk, who had no doubt planted most of the species, havingreceived them very likely from many distant stations of hisfellow-labourers in other parts of the Amazon valley. Whether Franciscan, Jesuit, or Dominican (for all three have had theirmissions in this part of the world), the holy father who resided here, thought Don Pablo, must have been an ardent horticulturist. Whether ornot he converted many Indians to his faith, he seemed to have exertedhimself to provide for their temporal necessities, for there was hardlya useful plant or tree suitable to the climate that was not to be foundgrowing near the spot. Such were the reflections of Don Pablo. "What a variety of beautiful palms!" said he, looking around upon theseby far the fairest forms of the vegetable creation. Now, my boy reader, I have not the slightest doubt but that you, too, think the palms the fairest forms of the vegetable creation. I have notthe shadow of a doubt that your heart beats joyfully at the very word"palm;" that you love to gaze at one of the stately trees, and that youwould give all your pocket-money for an afternoon's ramble through areal palm-wood. Would you not? Yes. I am sure of it. Now I could tellyou a great deal about palms if I _would_; and I would, too, if my spaceand time allowed me, but neither will, alas! Why, if I were only to giveyou even the shortest and dryest botanic description of all thedifferent palms that are known to us, that mere dry catalogue would filla book as big as this one! How many species do you think there are? Up to this time you havethought, perhaps, there was only one, and that was _the palm-treeitself_. Maybe you have heard of more, such as the sago-palm, thecocoa-nut palm, the date-palm, or the cabbage-palm; and you fanciedthere might be others--perhaps as many as a dozen! Now you will hardlycredit me when I tell you that we know of no less than _six hundredspecies of palms_, all differing from each other! I may add, further, that it is my belief that there exist on the earth as many more--thatis, the enormous number of twelve hundred. The reason why I entertain this belief is, that in all cases wheresimilar guesses have been hazarded--whether with regard to plants, orbirds, or _mammalia_--they have eventually proved far below the mark;and as the palm countries are the very regions of the earth least knownand least explored by botanists, it is but reasonable to conclude thatgreat numbers of species have never yet been described, nor even seen. Another fact which strengthens this probability is, that peculiarspecies of palms are sometimes found only in a limited district, andnowhere else in the same country. A small river even sometimes forms theboundary-line of a species; and although whole groves may be seen on theone side, not a tree of the same sort grows on the other. Some botanistseven prognosticate that more than two thousand species of palms will yetbecome known. Of the six hundred species known, about half belong to the Old World, and half to America. In America they are chiefly found growing on theContinent--although several species are natives of the West IndiaIslands--while on the Eastern hemisphere the greatest number of speciesbelong to the islands. I might tell you a great deal of the importance of these noble trees tothe human race, for they are as useful as they are beautiful. Almostevery sort has its particular use in the economy of human life. Not onlydo they serve certain purposes in Africa, Asia, America, and Oceanica, but in all these divisions of the earth there are whole nations who_live almost exclusively_ upon one or another species of palm. A discovery has lately been made in regard to an African species, whichit is to be hoped will have an important influence in doing away withthe infamous slave traffic so long existing in that unhappy country. Youhave heard of _palm-oil_. Well, it is extracted from the nuts of aspecies of palm. The oil is no new discovery, but it is only lately thatit has been found to be as quite as good for the manufacture of candlesas either spermaceti or wax. The consequence has been a great increase in the traffic of this articleon the western coast of Africa; and the native princes, finding that itis more profitable than slave-selling, have in many parts given up thelast-named atrocious commerce, and have taken to gathering palm-oil. Ifa palm-tree can effect what has baffled the skill of the combinedphilanthropists and powers of Europe, then, indeed, we shall say, "Allhonour to the noble palms. " But I might go on talking of palms until our little volume came to anend. I must, therefore, no longer speak generally of these beautifultrees, but confine myself to such species as came under the observation, and ministered to the wants, of the new settlers. CHAPTER XVII. A HOUSE OF PALMS. The first species of palms that attracted the observation of Don Pabloand his party, was that known as the "patawa" palm. It belongs to thegenus _Oenocarpus_. There are several species of this genus in SouthAmerica, but none more beautiful than the "patawa. " It is a palm with astraight smooth stem, and pinnate leaves--the stem being sixty feet inheight, and about a foot in diameter. The stem becomes smooth only inold trees. In the young ones, and even in those that stand in a thickshady forest, it presents a very shaggy appearance, and is completelyhidden by the bases of the old leaves that have decayed and fallen off. From the margins of these bases grow spinous processes of nearly threefeet in length, which point upward. These are used by the Indians tomake the arrows of their "blow-guns, " of which more hereafter. From the fruits of this palm a most delicious drink is manufactured withvery little trouble. The fruit itself is about the size of a plum, butof an oval shape and deep violet colour. It grows in large clusters justunder the leaves. To make the drink, the fruits are thrown into a vesselof hot water, where they remain for a few minutes until the pulp becomessoft. The hot water is next poured off, and cold water is substituted. In this the fruits are crushed and rubbed with the hands until all thepulp is washed from the stones. The liquid is then strained so as toseparate the stones and other substances, when it is ready for use, anda most luxurious beverage it is, --in its taste bearing some resemblanceto filberts and cream. A palm called the "assái" has a small sloe-like fruit which produces asimilar beverage--thick and creamy, and of a fine plum colour. In allthe Portuguese settlements the "assái" is a favourite drink, and istaken along with cassava bread, as we use milk or coffee. It was not on account of its fruit, however, that Don Pablo rejoiced atbeholding the "patawa" palms. Perhaps Leon thought more about the richclusters of oval plums, but his father looked only to the straightsmooth stems which were designed for corner-posts, beams, and theheavier woodwork of the house. In a few minutes Guapo was busy with his axe, and one after another fellthe princely trunks of the "patawa" until enough were cut down for theirpurpose. Don Pablo next looked out for some palm of a more slender trunk for therafters and joists. This was soon found in the "catinga, " which is a species of the "assáipalm, the one of which we have just spoken as producing the assái wine. "The catinga was the very thing for the rafters. It is tall, nearly fortyfeet high, but quite slender. It is one of the smooth palms, withpinnate leaves, not unlike those of the "patawa. " There is a peculiarityabout its top, --that is, there is a column or sheath of several feet inlength, out of which the leaves spring, and, at the lower end of thiscolumn, and not immediately at the root of the leaves, the fruitclusters grow. This sheathing column is of a red colour, which gives thetree a strange look. Another peculiarity of the catinga is that its roots grow out of theground, and form a little cone from the top of which rises the stem. Thefruits of this sort are smaller than the true assái, but a drink is alsomade from them which some people consider more delicious than thateither of the assái or patawa. The rafters then were got from thecatinga. Now for the thatch, that was the next consideration. "Master!" cried Guapo, pointing off into the woods. "Yonder's'bussu, '--very thing for thatch!" Guapo indicated a very singular-looking tree, with a thick, clumsy, crooked, and deeply ringed stem. It was not a bit like either of thepalm-trees they had already cut down. Its trunk was not over ten or adozen feet high, but then, such leaves! They were not pinnated likethose already described, but what is termed "entire, " that is, all inone piece, and thirty feet in length by full five in width! Fancy two orthree dozen of these gigantic leaves standing up almost erect from thetop of the thick trunk, and you may form some idea of the "bussu" palm. There are many palm-trees whose leaves are used for thatching houses, but of all others for that purpose the bussu is the best. These great fronds have a mid-rib, and from this, on both sides, runveins in a diagonal direction to the edge. When they are used for thatchthe leaf is split up the mid-rib, and then each half is laid upon therafters, not straight, but in such a way that the veins of the leaf willlie in a vertical direction, and thus serve as gutters to guide therain-water down the roof. A very few leaves will thatch a house, and acovering of this kind, when properly laid on, will last for ten ortwelve years. So much are the bussu-leaves prized for thatch, that theIndians, in parts where this palm does not grow, often make a canoevoyage of a week to procure them! The spathe which contains the flowers is also put to many uses. It is ofa long spindle shape, of fibrous, cloth-like texture, and brown colour. The Indians use it as cloth. It makes an excellent bag, in which thenative carries his paints or other articles; and a large one, stretchedout, makes a very comfortable cap. Indeed, Guapo used the first spathehe laid his hands upon for this very purpose. There remained now to be found some palm-tree that would split easily, and make laths for the roof, as well as planks for the door, shelves, and benches. They soon discovered the very palm for these purposes. Itwas one of the genus _Iriartea_, and known as the "pashiuba" palm. Itwas a tree that differed from all the others in its aspect. It was anoble-looking tree, rising, with a smooth stem, to the height of seventyfeet. At its top, there was a sheathing column swollen larger than thestem, and not unlike the sheathing column of the catinga alreadymentioned, except that that of the pashiuba was of a deep green colour. Its leaves, however, differed materially from those of the catinga. Itis true, that, like them, they were pinnate, but the leaflets, insteadof being slender and tapering, were of a triangular shape, notched alongthe edges, and not growing very regularly out from the mid-rib. Their general arrangement, as well as the form, therefore, gave the treea different, and, perhaps, more beautiful aspect. But the most singularcharacteristic of the pashiuba was its roots. I have said that the rootsof the catinga rose above the surface of the soil. So did they, but onlyto a limited height, forming a little cone. Now the roots of thepashiuba stood up to the height of ten or a dozen feet! Each root wasnearly straight in itself, but there were a number of them, and theysloped upwards so as to make a sort of pyramid, out of the apex of whichgrew the stem. There were wide spaces between the roots--so wide thatyou could easily pass through, and a full-grown man might stand uprightwith his head under the very base of the stem. Fancy a man standingunder the trunk of a tree that rose seventy feet above his head! There were young trees of the same species growing around, and thesewere miniature models of the older ones. Sometimes these lesser ones aresupported on three roots, like the tripod of a surveyor's compass, andthis gives them a somewhat ludicrous appearance. There are many speciesof this sort of palms, which are classed under the genus _Iriartea_. Inmost of them the fruit, which is small oval and red or yellow, is bitterand uneatable; but their wood is prized for many purposes. The wood ofthe species which Don Pablo had found is hard on the outside, but softwithin, and splits readier into laths and planks than any other kind ofpalm. Guapo attacked the roots with his axe, and enough trunks were soonfelled to make laths, doors, and all sorts of benches. The different kinds were now collected on the edge of the stream, andwere tied together by a rope-like, creeping plant, called a "Sipo, " sothat they formed a rude raft. The leaves of the "bussu, " with greatclusters of the fruits of the catinga and patawa, were laid upon theraft; and then, Guapo, mounting himself on top of all, pushed out withhis long pole, and ferried the whole across. The others walked round bythe bridge, and were just in time to assist Guapo in mooring hissomewhat unwieldy craft. Next day the framework of the house was put up, and on the day after thewalls. These were made of bamboo-canes, plenty of which grew near thebottom of the valley. They grew wild, for the slopes of the Andes arethe favourite soil of these gigantic grasses. They were set on end, sideby side, and then tied to each other and to the beams of palm-trees. Onthe third day the "bussu" leaves were laid on, and the house wasfinished. CHAPTER XVIII. TRACKING THE TAPIR. It has been already mentioned that the stream in front of the house waswider than at other parts, forming a sort of lake. There was a slowcurrent down the middle, but at the sides the water was nearly stagnant, and there grew in some places bunches of flags interspersed withbeautiful white lilies. Among these could be distinguished that gigantic_nympha_ so celebrated under the name of _Victoria regia_--for SouthAmerica is the native country of this rare plant. Every night, as our party were resting from their labours, they heardstrange noises proceeding from the water. There was plunging andplashing, and now and then a snorting sound like that sometimes utteredby frightened swine. Perhaps it would have puzzled any of them to tellwhence these sounds proceeded, or what animal gave utterance to them, for there could be no doubt they were caused by an animal. Some of themguessed "alligators;" but that was not a correct guess, for althoughthere are plenty of alligators in all the rivers of tropical America, there seemed to be none in that particular place. In truth, they might have remained long in the dark about what creaturethey thus heard sweltering about nightly, for they could neither see norhear anything of it in the day; but Guapo, who knew every sound of theMontaña, enlightened them at once. Guapo had been a keen _tapir-hunter_in his time, and understood all the habits of that strange animal. Itwas a tapir, then, which they had heard taking his regular nightly bath, and regaling himself on the roots of the flags and _nymphĉ_. Have you ever seen a tapir? Not a living one, I fancy; perhaps the skinof one in a museum. He is an interesting creature, for this reason--thathe is the largest land animal indigenous to South America. The llama andguanaco stand higher because their legs are longer, and they are farinferior to the tapir in bulk and weight: while the bears of SouthAmerica, of which there are two or three species, are small-sized bears, and therefore less than the tapir. In fact, no very large land animalswere found indigenous in the southern division of the Americancontinent. There were none of the _bovine_ tribe, as the buffalo andmusk-ox of North America; and no large deer, as the elk and moose of theNorthern latitudes. The deer of South America, of which there areseveral undescribed species, are all small animals. The tapir, then, inpoint of size takes precedence in the South-American _fauna_. His rounded body gives him some resemblance to a great hog, or a donkeywith its hair shaved off; but, in fact, he is not very like either; heis more like a _tapir_ than anything else--that is, he is a creature_sui generis_. Perhaps, if you were to shave a large donkey, cut offmost part of his ears and tail, shorten his limbs--and, if possible, make them stouter and clumsier--lengthen his upper jaw so that it shouldprotrude over the under one into a prolonged curving snout, and thengive him a coat of blackish-brown paint, you would get something notunlike a tapir. To complete the resemblance, however, you would have to continue theerect mane over the forehead, between the ears, and down to the level ofthe eyes, which would give that crested appearance that characterisesthe tapir. Instead of hoofs, moreover, you would give your donkey largetoes--four upon the fore feet, and upon the hind ones three. A littlesilky hair upon the stumped tail, and a few thinly scattered hairs of abrown colour over the body, would make the likeness still more striking;and it would be necessary, too, that the donkey be one of the verybiggest kind to be as big as a big tapir. The tapir is a harmless creature, and although it has a good set ofteeth, it never uses them for the purpose of defending itself. Whenattacked by either men or fierce animals, it tries to escape by flight, and if that fails, submits to be killed; but there is no "fight" to begot out of a tapir. The tapir leads a very solitary life, being met with alone, or sometimesin the company of the female. The latter has but one young at a birth, which follows her until able to provide for itself; when they associateno longer together, but part company, each taking its own way. This animal is called amphibious, because it spends part of its time inthe water; but, although it has been called the American representativeof the rhinoceros and hippopotamus, it is not so much a water animal aseither of these. It seeks its food in the river, or the marshes thatborder it, and can remain for several minutes under water; but for allthat most of its time is passed on dry land. It sleeps during the day insome dry spot upon a bed of withered leaves, from whence it salliesevery evening, and makes to the marshy banks of some well-known stream. It frequently leaves its lair during rain, and goes in search of food. Like hogs it is very fond of wallowing in a muddy place; but, unlikethese slovenly animals, it does not return to its bed until it hasplunged into the clear water, and thoroughly purified itself of themud. One habit of the tapir--and an unfortunate one for itself--is that ingoing its rounds it always follows the old track. In this way a path issoon formed from its lair to its feeding-place, so conspicuous that ahunter might trail it upon the run. It is easy, therefore, to "waylay" atapir. Guapo knew this well, and had already, while over among thepalms, marked the track of the one that came nightly to the stream, andhad settled it in his mind that that particular tapir had not many daysto live. In fact, Leon coaxed him to fix the tapir-hunt for the nextmorning, which Guapo, with Don Pablo's permission, accordingly did. Guapo was anxious as any of them to kill the tapir, for, like manyIndians, he was fond of its flesh, though that is by no means apalatable article of food. On the contrary, it is dry, and to mostpeople tastes disagreeably. Guapo, however, liked it exceedingly; and, moreover, he wanted the tough skin for some purpose of his own. The wildIndians value the skin highly, as it is the best thing they can procurefor "viches, " or shields, to ward off the poisoned arrows of theirenemies. Next morning, an hour or so after daybreak, Guapo started for the hunt, accompanied by Leon. Don Pablo remained at home with his wife and thelittle Leona. Now, had the tapir-hunter possessed a gun, or even a bowand arrows, his plan of proceedings would have been different, and hewould no doubt have chosen a different hour for the hunt. He would havechosen the twilight of the evening or morning, and would have hidhimself in the bushes, so as to command a view of the track which thetapir would be certain to take on his way to or from the water. He wouldthen have simply shot the creature as it was going past; but this is notso easy a matter neither, for the tapir, fearful of enemies while onland, always travels at a trot. As Guapo had neither bow nor gun, nothing in fact but his _macheté_, how was he to get near enough to usethis weapon? Clumsy-looking as the tapir certainly is, he can shuffleover the ground faster than the fastest Indian. Guapo knew all this, but he also knew a stratagem by which theamphibious brute could be outwitted, and this stratagem he designedputting in practice. For the purpose he carried another weapon besidesthe _macheté_. That weapon was a very pacific one--it was a _spade_!Fortunately he had one which he had brought with him from the mountains. Now what did Guapo mean to do with the spade? The tapir is not aburrowing animal, and therefore would not require to be "dug out. " Weshall presently see what use was made of the spade. After crossing the bridge, and getting well round among the palms, thehunter came upon a path well tracked into the mud. It was the path ofthe tapir, --that could be easily seen. There were the broadfootmarks--some with three, and others with four toes--and there, too, were places where the animal had "wallowed. " The tracks were quitefresh, and made, as Guapo said, not an hour before they had arrived onthe spot. This was just what the tapir-hunter wanted; and, choosing a place wherethe track ran between two palm-trees, and could not well have gone roundeither of them, he halted, rested his _macheté_ against a tree, and tooka determined hold of the spade. Leon now began to see what use heintended to make of the spade. He was _going to dig a pit_! That was, in fact, the very thing he was going to do, and in less thanan hour, with the help of Leon, it was done--the latter carrying awaythe earth upon "bussu" leaves as fast as Guapo shovelled it out. Whenthe pit was sunk to what Guapo considered a sufficient depth, he cameout of it; and then choosing some slender poles, with palm-leaves, branches, and grass, he covered it in such a manner that a fox himselfwould not have known it to be a pit-trap. But such it was--wide enoughand deep enough, as Guapo deemed, to entrap the largest tapir. It now only remained to get the tapir into it, but therein lay thedifficulty. Leon could not understand how this was to be managed. Heknew that at night, as the animal was on its way to the water, it mightstep on the covering, and fall in. But Guapo had promised him that heshould see the tapir trapped in an hour's time. Guapo had a plan of hisown for bringing it that way, and he at once proceeded to put his planinto execution. They started along the trail going _from_ the water, and towards thelair of the beast. The hunter knew it would not be very distant--perhapsa quarter or half-a-mile, perhaps less. Before starting he cautionedLeon to keep close behind him, and not to make the least noise. Solittle as a whisper or the rustling of the brush, he alleged, mightspoil all his plans. Guapo marched, or rather crouched, along; at firstfreely, but after some time his step grew more stealthy and cautious. Heknew that he was getting near to his sleeping victim. After stopping and repeating his caution to his companion, he proceededas before until they had got better than a quarter of a mile from thewater. Here they began to ascend a gentle hill, where the ground wasdry, and strewed with fallen trees. At some places the trail wasdifficult to make out, and Leon would soon have lost it had he been leftto himself. But there was no fear of Guapo losing it. A hound could nothave followed it more surely. Suddenly Guapo stopped--then went on a few steps--then stopped a secondtime, and made a sign for Leon to come up. Without speaking, he pointedto a little thicket of scrubby bushes, through the leaves of which theycould just make out some large brown object perfectly at rest. That wasthe tapir himself--sound asleep. Guapo had already instructed his companion that when they should arrivenear the den of the animal, they were to make a wide circuitaround--Leon going one way, while he himself took the other. Both nowdrew back a little, and then parted--the hunter going to one side, andLeon in the opposite direction. After making their circuit, they met atsome distance beyond the back of the den; and then Guapo, telling theother to follow him, and, without observing any further caution, walkedstraight towards where the tapir lay. The Indian knew by experience that the latter, when roused, would makedirectly along its accustomed trail to the water, for to the water italways flies when alarmed by an enemy. When they had got within a fewpaces of the den, a movement was seen among the leaves--then a cracklingnoise was heard, as the huge body of the animal broke through thebushes, and took to flight. He did not trot according to his usual gait, but went off in a gallop, with his head carried in a singular andawkward manner between his fore-legs! You have, no doubt, seen a donkeysometimes gallop in a similar style. Guapo bounded after, followed by Leon, who kept close at his heels. Ofcourse the tapir was in sight only a few seconds, but the hunter knewthat he would take the beaten track, and therefore was at no loss. Theymade no unnecessary noise--lest the tapir might be frightened from itspath--but ran on in silence. They soon got back to the pit-fall, Guapo of course leading the way. "Hola!" cried the latter, when he came in sight of it, "hola, youngmaster! he's in the trap!" Sure enough he was; and the next moment they stood upon the edge of thepit, and beheld the great brown body struggling and tumbling about atthe bottom. Guapo did not pause a moment, but leaped in, _macheté_ in hand. He hadno fear of the animal biting him, for he knew it would not do so; butGuapo, in his hurry, had leaped carelessly, and his foot slipping, hefell over the smooth body of the tapir. The latter in its fright jumpedupward, and the next moment Guapo was _undermost_ at the bottom of thepit! The animal had no design of trampling the hunter; but seeing that itcould easily leap out--the pit being shallowed for it by Guapo's bodyand the fallen branches--it made a spring, and came out on the edge. Leon had got round upon the side next the river, but he chanced to be onthe wrong side just then; for the heavy tapir dashing past, knockedagainst him, and sent him sprawling among the trees. Before he couldrecover himself, or Guapo climb out of the pit, a loud plunge in thewater announced that the animal had escaped to an element where it mightdefy their pursuit. Both were quite crest-fallen and disappointed, but Guapo especially so. He had prided himself very much on his skill as a tapir-hunter, and hispride was mortified at the result. He seemed very much chagrined; and ashe and Leon returned toward the house, he stopped at intervals andlooked into the water. Then shaking his macheté in a threatening manner, cried out, -- "Dive away, old thick-skin! Dive deep as you will, I'll have your hideyet!" CHAPTER XIX. THE POISONED ARROWS. The result of the tapir chase determined Guapo to have himself betterarmed. There was one weapon--and a very efficient one too--which he knewhow both to make and use. That weapon was a "gravatána, " or blow-gun, sometimes called "pocuna. " He had had an eye to this weapon all along, and had already provided the materials necessary for making it. Thesematerials were of a varied character, and had cost him some trouble ingetting them together. First, then, for the blow-tube itself he had cut stems of a slenderpalm-tree, a species of _Iriartea_, but not that sort already described. It was the _Pashiuba miri_ of the Indians. This little palm grows to theheight of from twelve to twenty feet, and is never thicker than a man'swrist. Its roots, like the others of its genus, rise above the ground, but only a few inches. The stems which Guapo had chosen were ofdifferent sizes. One was about the thickness of the handle of agarden-rake, while the other was not over the diameter of awalking-cane. Both were hollow in the heart, or rather they containedpith like the alder-tree, which when forced out left a smooth bore. Having cut these stems to a length of about ten feet, and pushed out thepith, Guapo inserted the smaller one into the bore of the larger, whichfitted tightly all the way--for he had chosen it of the proper thicknessto this end. The object of thus using two stems instead of one will not, at first, be understood. It was for the purpose of making the tubeperfectly straight, as this is a most important consideration in thegravatána. The outer and stronger stem corrected any bend that theremight be in the inner one, and they were carefully arranged so that theone should straighten the other. Had it not been perfectly straight, Guapo would have bound it to a postand made it so; but it happened to come quite right without furthertrouble. The tube of the lesser one was now cleaned out thoroughly, andpolished by a little bunch of the roots of a tree-fern, until it was assmooth and hard as ebony. A mouthpiece of wood was placed at the smallerend of the table, and a sight was glued on the outside. This "sight" wasthe tooth of an animal, --one of the long curving incisors of a rodentanimal called the "paca, " which is found in most parts of tropicalAmerica. To make the instrument look neater, Guapo had procured thetough shining bark of a creeping plant, which he wound spirally aroundthe outside from the mouthpiece to the muzzle; and then the gravatánawas finished. There was yet much to be done before it could be used. Arrows were to bemade, and a quiver in which to carry them, and poison to dip theirpoints in--for the arrows of the blow-gun do not kill by the wound theyinflict, but by the poison with which they are charged. The next thing, then, to which Guapo turned his attention was themanufacture of the arrows. These can be made of cane, reeds, and otherkinds of wood; but the best materials for the purpose are the longspines of the patawa palm, of which I have already spoken. These spinesgrow out from the lower part of the leaf-petioles, and, in young treesand those much sheltered, remain upon the trunk, giving it a very shaggyappearance. They are often three feet in length, about as thick as largewire, rather flattish, and of a black colour. To make the arrows, Guapocut them to the length of fifteen or eighteen inches, and then pointedthem sharply at one end. About three inches from the points he notchedthem all, so that they would break in the wound rather than drop outagain, in consequence of the struggles of the animal. About two or three inches from the thick end of the arrow Guapo wrappedlightly around the shaft some strands of the soft silky cotton, which hehad procured from the pods of the great "ceiba, " or silk-cotton tree, already mentioned. This he fastened on with a fibre of an aloeplant--one of the _bromelias_; and the cotton, when thus secured, assumed a conical or spindle shape, having its larger end towards thebutt of the arrow. When inserted into the gravatána, the swell of thecotton filled the tube exactly, --not so tightly as to impede thepassage of the arrow, nor so loosely as to allow of "windage" when blownupon through the mouthpiece. The arrows were now ready, with the exception of the poison for theirtips; and this was the most important of all, for without it bothblow-gun and arrows would have been useless weapons, indeed. But Guapowas just the man who knew how to make this poison, and that is more thancould be said of every Indian, for it is only the "piaches" (priests, or"medicine-men") who understand the process. Nay, more, there are evensome tribes where not an individual knows how the arrow-poison is made;and these have to procure it by barter from others, paying a high price, and sometimes going a great distance for it. This celebrated poison is known under different names, but those of"curare, " "ticuna, " and "wouraly, " are the principal. It is one of the most deadly poisons yet discovered--as much so as the_upastiente_ of Java, or the bean of St. Ignatius--but it is perfectlyharmless when swallowed, and, indeed, it is often taken by the Indiansas an excellent stomachic. Should it get into the blood, however, bymeans of an arrow-wound, or a sore, no remedy has yet been discoveredthat will cure it. Death is certain, and a death similar to that causedby the bite of a venomous serpent. So say those who have suffered fromit, but recovered on account of their having been only slightly wounded, or lightly inoculated with it. Let us see, then, how Guapo prepared thisdeadly mixture. He had gone out to the forest, and returned carrying a bundle of slenderrods. They were pieces of a lliana, or creeping plant. It was the_bejuco de curare_, or "mavacure, " as it is sometimes called. The leaveshe had stripped off, and left behind as useless. Had he brought themwith him, they would have been seen to be small leaves of an oblong-ovalshape, sharp at the points, and of a whittish-green colour. Don Pabloknew the plant to be a species of _Strychnos_. Guapo with his knife first scraped all the bark, as well as the alburnumor white coating, from the rods, which last he flung away. The mixtureof bark and alburnum was next placed upon a smooth stone, and mashedinto a fibre of a yellowish colour. This done, it was gathered into aheap, and placed within a funnel, which had already been made out of aplantain-leaf. The funnel was a long narrow cone, and to strengthen it, it was set within another funnel made of the thick leaf of the "bussu"palm, and then both were supported by a framework of palm fibres. Underneath the apex was placed a small pan--which could afterwards beput over the fire--and then cold water was thrown into the funnel alongwith the bark. A yellowish liquid soon commenced to filter and drip intothe pan, and this liquid was the _curare_, the arrow poison. It stillrequired, however, to be concentrated by evaporation; and for thispurpose the pan was transferred to a slow fire, where it was kept untilthe liquid became thickened by the heat. Another process was yet required before the curare was ready for thearrows. It was sufficiently concentrated and deadly, but still too thinto adhere properly to their tips, and for this purpose a mixture of somegummy juice was necessary. This Guapo soon prepared from the largeleaves of a tree called the "kiracaguero, " and poured it into theinfusion; and then the curare turned from its yellow colour to black, and was ready for use. The change of colour was produced by thedecomposition of a hydruret of carbon; the hydrogen was burned, and thecarbon set free. Guapo now dipped a few of his arrows, and carefully deposited them in alarge joint of bamboo, which served as a quiver. I say _carefully_, forhad one of these arrows dropped with its poisoned point upon his nakedfoot, or wounded him elsewhere, he never would have prepared any morecurare. But he handled them with care, and the remainder of the liquidhe poured into a small gourd (similar to that in which he carried hiscoca-lime), which he closely corked up with a piece of the pith from apalm. Don Pablo, with Doña Isidora and the children, had watched with interestall this process. At first, they were afraid to go near, believing thatthe fumes of the liquid might be injurious. This was long believed to bethe case, in consequence of the absurd tales spread abroad by the oldmissionaries, and even at a later period by the traveller La Condamine. These asserted, that when the Indians wished to make the curare poison, they selected for this purpose the old women of the tribe, whose liveswere not deemed of any value; and that several of these always fell asacrifice while "cooking" the curare! This silly story is now refuted; and Guapo not only assured hiscompanions that there was no danger, but even tasted the curare fromtime to time while in the pan, in order to judge when it wassufficiently concentrated. This he could tell by its taste, as it grewmore and more bitter as the evaporation proceeded. The arrow-poisons ofSouth America are not all made from the creeping plant, the mavacure. Among some Indian tribes a root is used called "curare de raiz;" andwith others the poison is produced by a mixture of several species ofjuices from the plant _Ambihuasca_, tobacco, red pepper, a bark called"barbasco, " from a tree of the genus _Jacquinia_, and a plant of thename "sarnango. " Of all these the juice of the _Ambihuasca_ is the mostpowerful ingredient, but the making of this species of poison is a mostcomplicated process. Guapo was not long in having an opportunity to test his gravatána, andthis was just what he desired, for the old Indian was not a little vainof his skill, and he wished to make a show of it in the eyes of hiscompanions. His vanity, however, was the more pardonable, as he was inreality a first-rate shot, which he proved to the satisfaction ofeverybody within half-an-hour. The instrument had scarcely been finishedand laid aside, when a loud screaming and chattering was heard in theair, and on looking up a flock of large birds was seen flying over theheavens. They were still high up, but all of a sudden they darted downtogether and alit on a tall tree that stood nearly alone. Here they continued their chattering, only in a lower and moreconfidential tone; and they could be seen, not hopping, but climbingabout, sometimes with their backs and heads turned downward, and, inshort, clinging to the branches in every imaginable way. These birdswere all of one kind, each of them full eighteen inches in length, andof a uniform colour over the body, which was a purple, or deepindigo--their beaks only being white. In the sun their plumage glistenedwith a metallic lustre. They were, in fact, a rare species, --the _ana_, or _purple macaw_. Without saying a word, Guapo seized his gravatána and arrows, and stoleoff through the underwood towards the tree upon which the macaws hadperched. In a few minutes he stood under it, screened from the view ofthe birds by the broad leaves of a plantain that happened to growbeneath. This cover was necessary, else the macaws, which are shy birds, might have uttered one of their wild, choral screams, and flown off. They did not, however, and Guapo had a fair chance at them. All hismovements could be observed by the party at the house, as he was on thatside of the plantain. He was seen to adjust an arrow into the tube, and then raise thegravatána to his lips. Strange to say, he did not hold it as we do acommon gun, --that is, with the left hand advanced along the tube. On thecontrary, both hands were held nearly together, at the lower end, andclose to his mouth. Now, you will wonder how he could hold such a longtube steady in this way. It is, indeed, a very difficult thing, and muchpractice alone can accomplish it. As they watched him narrowly, hischest was seen to expand, his cheeks rose with a strong "puff, " and someof them thought they could perceive the passage of the little arrow outof the tube. However this might be, they soon after saw something sticking in theside of one of the macaws, and could see the bird pecking at it with itsgreat beak, and trying to pull it out. In this it appeared to havesucceeded after a short while, for something fell from the tree. It wasthe shaft with its cotton "boss" that fell down. The point, broken offwhere it had been notched, was still in the body of the bird, and wasinfusing the deadly venom into its veins. In about two minutes' time thewounded bird seemed to grow giddy, and began to stagger. It then fellover, still clutching the branch with its strong, prehensile claws; butafter hanging a moment, these too relaxed, and the body fell heavily tothe ground. It was quite dead. Long before it came down Guapo had pushed a fresh arrow into the tube, and given a fresh puff through it, wounding a second of the macaws. Thenanother arrow was chosen, and another victim, until several had beenshot, and the creatures upon the tree could be seen in all stages ofdying. Some, on receiving the wound, uttered a cry and flew off, but thepoison soon brought them down, and they invariably fell at no greatdistance from the tree. At length Guapo was seen to desist, and walk boldly out from his ambush. To the surprise of all, the remaining macaws, of which there were stillsix or seven upon the tree, showed no fear of him, nor did they attemptto fly away! This was explained, however, by their subsequent conduct;for in a few seconds more they were seen, one by one, falling to theground, until not a single bird was left upon the tree. All of them hadbeen killed by the arrows of the blow-gun! Leon now ran out to assist Guapo in gathering his game. There were noless than eight couple of them in all, and they were all quitedead--some of them shot in the thigh, some in the neck or wing, andothers through the body. None of them had lived over two minutes afterreceiving the wound. Such is the quickness with which the "curare" doesits work! As a hunting instrument for most species of game the South AmericanIndian prefers the gravatána to any other; and with good reason. HadGuapo been armed with a rifle or fowling-piece, he would have shot onemacaw, or perhaps a pair, and then the rest would have uttered atantalising scream, and winged their way out of his reach. He might havemissed the whole flock, too, for on a high tree, such as that on whichthey had alit, it is no easy matter to kill a macaw with a shot-gun. Nowthe gravatána throws its arrow to a height of from thirty to fortyyards, and the least touch is sufficient to do the business. Itssilence, moreover, enables the hunter to repeat the shot, until severalhead of game reward his skill. The Indians use it with most effect in avertical or upward direction; and they are always surer to kill a birdwith it when perched on a high tree, than when seated on a low shrub oron the ground. As we have observed that the curare can be taken inwardly without anydanger, it will be evident to all that game killed by the poisonedarrows may be eaten with safety. Indeed, there are many epicures inSouth America who prefer it in this way; and when a chicken is wantedfor the table, these people require that it should be killed by an arrowdipped in curare. CHAPTER XX. THE MILK-TREE. Guapo kept his promise with the tapir, and on that very same day. Shortly after the macaws had been brought in, little Leona, who had beenstraying down by the water's edge, came running back to the house, andin breathless haste cried out, "Mamma, mamma! what a big hog!" "Where, my pet?" inquired her mother, with a degree of anxiety, for shefancied that the child might have seen some fierce beast of prey insteadof a hog. "In the water, " replied Leona; "among the great lillies. " "It's the tapir, " cried Leon. "Carrambo! it's our tapir!" Guapo was busy plucking his macaws, but at the word tapir he sprang tohis feet, making the feathers fly in all directions. "Where, señorita?" he asked, addressing little Leona. "Down below, " replied the child; "near the edge of the river. " Guapo seized his gravatána, and crouched down towards the bank, withLeon at his heels. On nearing the water, he stopped; and, with his bodyhalf-bent, looked down stream. There, sure enough, was the huge brownbeast standing with his body half out of the water, and pulling up theroots of the flags with his great teeth and long moveable snout. It wasnot likely he would return to his former den after the chase he had had;and fancying, no doubt, that all the danger lay upon the opposite shore, he had come to this side to browse awhile. Guapo cautioned Leon to remain where he was, while he himself, almostcrawling upon his belly, proceeded along the bank. In a few minutes hewas out of sight, and Leon, seeing nothing more of him, kept his eyessharply fixed upon the tapir. The latter remained quietly feeding for about ten minutes, when the boysaw him give a little start. Perhaps, thought he, he has heard Guapoamong the weeds--for the tapir has good ears--and that was what causedhim to make the motion. The tapir stopped feeding for a moment, but thenrecommenced, though evidently not with as much eagerness as before. Presently he stopped a second time, and seemed undetermined as towhether he should not turn and take to the clear water. In this way hehesitated for several minutes; then, to the astonishment of Leon, hisbody began to rock from side to side, and the next moment, with aplunge, he fell heavily backward, making the waves undulate on all sidesof him. The arrow had done its work--he was dead! A loud shout from Guapo echoed along the river, and the Indian was seenplunging forward to the dead tapir, which the next moment he had seizedby the leg, and was dragging towards the bank. He was here met by thewhole party, all of whom were anxious to see this rare and singularcreature. Ropes were soon attached to the legs, and Guapo, assisted byDon Pablo and Leon, drew the huge carcass out upon the shore; anddragged it up to the house. Guapo at once skinned it, carefully preserving the hide to make solesfor his sandals and other purposes; and that night all of them tried a"tapir-steak" for supper. All, however, Guapo alone excepted, preferredthe flesh of the purple macaws, which, cooked as they were with onionsand red pepper, were excellent eating, particularly for Spanish-Americanpalates. Guapo had all the tapir to himself. The bamboo palm-house was now quite finished, and several articles offurniture too--for during the nights both Don Pablo and his trusty manGuapo had worked at many things. You will, no doubt, be asking wherethey procured lights, --will you not? I shall tell you. One of theloftiest and most beautiful of the palm-trees--_the wax-palm_--grew inthese very parts, for the lower slopes of the Andes are its favouritehabitat. Out of its trunk exudes wax, which has only to be scraped offand made into candles, that burn as well as those made of the wax ofbees. Indeed, the missionaries, in their various religious ceremonies, have always made large use of these palm-candles. Another "wax-palm, " called "Carnáuba, " is found in South America. Inthis one, the wax--of a pure white colour, and without any admixture ofresin--collects upon the under-side of the leaves, and can be had inlarge quantities by merely stripping it off. But even, had neither ofthese palms been found, they needed not to have gone without lights, forthe fruits of the "patawa, " already described, when submitted topressure, yield a pure liquid oil, without any disagreeable smell, andmost excellent for burning in lamps. So, you see, there was no lack oflight in the cheerful cottage. But there were two things, you will say, still wanting--one of them anecessary article, and the other almost so--and which could not possiblybe procured in such a place. These two things were _salt_ and _milk_. Now there was neither a salt-mine, nor a lake, nor a drop of salt water, nor yet either cow, goat, or ass, within scores of miles of the place, and still they had both salt and milk! The milk they procured from a tree which grew in the woods close by, anda tree so singular and celebrated, that you have no doubt heard of itbefore now. It was the _palo de vaca_, or "cow-tree, " called sometimesby an equally appropriate name _arbol del leche_, or "milk-tree. " It isone of the noblest trees of the forest, rising, with its tall straightstem, to a great height, and adorned with large oblong pointed leaves, some of which are nearly a foot in length. It carries fruit which iseatable, about the size of a peach, and containing one or two stones;and the wood itself is valuable, being hard, fine-grained, and durable. But it is the sap which gives celebrity to the tree. This is neithermore nor less than milk of a thick creamy kind, and most agreeable inflavour. Indeed, there are many persons who prefer it to the milk ofcows, and it has been proved to be equally nutritious, the peoplefattening upon it in districts where it grows. It is collected, as thesugar-water is from the maple, simply by making a notch or incision inthe bark, and placing a vessel underneath, into which the sap runsabundantly. It runs most freely at the hour of sunrise; and this is alsotrue as regards the sap of the sugar-tree, and many other trees of thatkind. Sometimes it is drunk pure as it flows from the tree; but there are somepeople who, not relishing it in its thick gummy state, dilute it withwater, and strain it before using it. It is excellent for tea or coffee, quite equal to the best cream, and of a richer colour. When left tostand in an open vessel, a thick coagulum forms on the top, which thenatives term cheese, and which they eat in a similar manner, and withequal relish. Another virtue of this extraordinary tree is that thecream, without any preparation, makes a glue for all purposes as good asthat used by cabinet-makers, and, indeed, Don Pablo and Guapo hadalready availed themselves of it in this way. So much for the _palo de vaca_. It still remains for me to tell you where the _salt_ came from; andalthough the milk-tree was ever so welcome, yet the salt was a thing ofstill greater necessity. Indeed, the latter might be looked upon as anindispensable article in household economy. You, my young reader, knownot what it is to be without salt. With whole sacks of this beautifulmineral within your reach, almost as cheap as sand, you cannot fancy thelonging--the absolute craving--for it, which they feel who are for aperiod deprived of it. Even the wild animals will make long journeys in search of thosesalt-springs--or, as they are called, "licks"--which exist in manyplaces in the wilderness of America. For salt, Don Pablo and hiscompanions would have exchanged anything they had, --their sugar, plantains, cocoa, coffee, or even the cassava, which was their bread. They longed for salt, and knew not how they could get on without it. Theonly substitute was the "aji, " or capsicum, of which several speciesgrew around, and almost every dish they ate was strongly spiced with it. But still this was not salt, and they were not contented with it. It was now that they found a friend in Guapo. Guapo knew that among manyof the Indian tribes the fruit of a certain species of palm wasmanufactured into salt; and he knew the palm, too, if he could only gethis eyes upon it. Seeing his master and the rest so troubled upon thishead, Guapo rose one morning early and stole off among the groves ofpalm, on the other side of the river. There, in a marshy place, with itsroots even growing in the water, stood the very tree, --a small palm ofabout four inches in diameter and twenty to thirty feet high. It wasthicker at the base than the top, and the top itself rose several feetabove the tuft of pinnate, feathery fronds, ending in a pointed spike. It was the "jara" palm, of the genus _Leopoldinia_. It was the fruits upon which Guapo bent his eyes with earnestness. Eachone was as large as a peach, of an oval shape, slightly flattened, andof a yellowish green colour. They grew in large clusters among the basesof the leaves; and Guapo was not long in ascending several trees--forthe jara is a smooth-skinned palm, and can be climbed--and breaking offthe spadices, and flinging them to the ground. He had soon collected abag-full, with which he hurried back to the house. All wondered what Guapo meant to do with these fruits, for they tastedthem and found them very bitter. Guapo soon showed them his intention. Having prepared a sort of furnace, he set the nuts on fire; and whenthey were thoroughly reduced to ashes, to the great joy and astonishmentof all, these ashes, which were as white as flour, had the taste ofsalt! It is true it was not equal to "Turk's Island, " nor yet to "Bay"salt, but it proved to be good enough for cooking purposes, andsatisfied the craving which all had felt for this indispensable article. CHAPTER XXI. THE CANNIBAL FISH AND THE GYMNOTUS. About this time an incident occurred that was very near having a fataltermination for one of the party--Leon. The day was a very hot one, andas the cool water looked inviting, Leon could not resist the temptationof taking a bath. Having undressed himself, he plunged into the rivernearly in front of where the house stood, and began splashing aboutquite delighted. The rest were not heeding him, as each was engaged withsome occupation within the house. Leon at first kept wading about in a place that was not beyond hisdepth, but, by little and little, he took short swims, as he wished topractise, and become a good swimmer like Guapo. His father had not onlygiven him permission, but had even advised him to do so. And it may behere remarked that all parents would do well to take the same coursewith their children and allow them to acquire this healthful and usefulart. No one can deny that thousands of lives are annually sacrificed, because so few have taken the trouble to learn swimming. Well; Leon was determined to be a swimmer, and at each attempt he made awider stretch into the deep water, swam around, and then back again tothe bank. In one of these excursions, just as he had got farthest out, all at oncehe felt a sharp pain as if from the bite of some animal, and thenanother, and another, upon different parts of the body, as if severalsets of teeth were attacking him at once! Leon screamed--who wouldn't have done so?--and his scream brought thewhole household to the edge of the water in less than a score ofseconds. All of them believed that he was either drowning or attacked bya crocodile. On arriving at the bank, however, they saw that he wasstill above water, and swimming boldly for the shore--no signs of acrocodile were to be seen! What was the matter? Of course that question was asked of him by them all in a breath. Hisreply was that "he could not tell--_something was biting him allover_!" The quick eye of the mother now caught sight of blood--around theswimmer the water was tinged with it--her piercing shriek rent the air. "O God! my child--my child! Save him--save him!" Both Don Pablo and Guapo dashed into the water and plunged forward tomeet him. In the next moment he was raised in their arms, but the bloodstreamed down his body and limbs, apparently from a dozen wounds. Asthey lifted him out of the water they saw what had caused these wounds. A shoal of small fish, with ashy-green backs and bright orange belliesand fins, was seen below. With large open mouths they had followed theirvictim to the very surface, and now that he was lifted out of theirreach, they shot forward and attacked the legs of his rescuers, causingDon Pablo and Guapo to dance up in the water, and make with all hastefor the bank. As soon as they had reached it, they turned round andlooked into the water. There were these blood-thirsty pursuers that hadfollowed them up to the very bank, and now swam about darting from pointto point, and ready for a fresh attack on any one that might enter thewater! "They are the 'cannibal fish!'" said Guapo, in an angry tone, as heturned to attend to Leon. "I shall punish them yet for it. Trust me, young master, you shall be revenged!" Leon was now carried up to the house, and it was found that in all hehad received nearly a dozen wounds! Some of them were on the calves ofhis legs, where the piece of flesh was actually taken out! Had he beenfarther out in the river, when first attacked, he might never havereached the shore alive, as the fierce creatures were gathering in fargreater numbers when he was rescued, and would most undoubtedly havetorn him to pieces and eaten him up! Such has been the fate of many persons who have fallen among the"cannibal fish" in the midst of wide rivers where they had no chance ofescape. These ferocious little "caribes, " or "caribitos, " as they arecalled (for the word _carib_ signifies cannibal), lie at the bottom ofrivers, and are not easily seen; but the moment an attack is made by oneof them, and a drop of blood stains the water, the whole shoal rises tothe surface, and woe to the creature that is assailed by their sharptriangular teeth! Of course the wounds of Leon, although painful, were not dangerous, butthe chief danger lay in the loss of blood which was pouring from so manyveins. But Guapo found ready to his hand the best thing in the world forstopping it. On some mimosa-trees, not far from the house, he hadalready observed--indeed, so had all of them--a very singular species ofants' nests of a yellowish brown colour. The ants themselves were of abeautiful emerald green. They were the _Formica spinicollis_. Thesenests were composed of a soft cotton-down, which the ants had collectedfrom a species of _Melastoma_, a handsome shrub found growing in theseregions; and this down Guapo knew to be the best for blood-stopping. Even Don Pablo had heard of its being used by the Indians for thispurpose, and knew it by the name of "_yesca de hormigas_, " or"touch-wood of ants. " He had heard, moreover, that it was far superioreven to the ants' nests of Cayenne, which form an article of commerceand are highly prized in the hospitals of Europe. Guapo, therefore, ranoff and robbed the green ants of their nests, and speedily returnedwith the full of his hands of the soft "yesca. " This was applied to thewounds, and in a few minutes the bleeding was effectually stopped, andLeon, although still suffering pain, had now only to be patient and getwell. Strange to say, another incident occurred that very evening, whichtaught our party a further lesson of the danger of taking to the waterwithout knowing more of its inhabitants. Just as they had finishedsupper, and were seated in front of their new house, the mule, that hadbeen let loose, stepped into the river to drink and cool its flanks. Itwas standing in the water, which came up to its belly, and, havingfinished its drink, was quietly gazing around it. All at once, it wasobserved to give a violent plunge, and make with hot haste for the bank. It snorted and looked terrified, while its red nostrils were wide open, and its eyes appeared as if they would start from their sockets. Atlength it reached the bank, and, staggering forward, rolled over in thesand, as if it was going to die! What could all this mean? Had it, too, been attacked by the "caribes?"No; that was not likely, as the bite of these creatures upon the hardshanks of the mule could not have produced such an effect. They mighthave frightened it, but they could not have thrown it into "fits"--forit was evidently in some sort of a fit at that moment. It might have been a puzzle to our party not easily solved, had Guaponot been upon the spot. But Guapo had witnessed such an incident before. Just before the mule gave the first plunge Guapo's eyes had beenwandering in that direction. He had noticed an odd-looking form glidenear the mule and pass under the animal's belly. This creature was of agreenish-yellow colour, about five feet in length, and four or fiveinches thick. It resembled some kind of water-snake more than a fish, but Guapo knew it was not a snake, but an eel. It was the great_electric eel_--the "temblador, " or "gymnotus. " This explained the mystery. The gymnotus, having placed itself under thebelly of the unsuspecting mule, was able to bring its body in contact atall points, and hence the powerful shock that had created such aneffect. The mule, however, soon recovered, but from that time forward, nocoaxing, nor leading, nor driving, nor whipping, nor pushing, wouldinduce that same mule to go within twenty feet of the bank of that samepiece of water. Guapo now bethought himself of the narrow escape he himself had hadwhile swimming across to the palm-woods; and the appearance of thegymnotus only rendered him more determined to keep the promise he hadmade to Leon, --that is, that he would revenge him of the caribes. None of them could understand how Guapo was to get his revenge withoutcatching the fish, and that would be difficult to do. Guapo, however, showed them how on the very next day. During that evening he had made an excursion into the wood, and returnedhome carrying with him a large bundle of roots. They were the roots of two species of plants--one of the genus_Piscidea_, the other a _Jacquinia_. Out of these, when properly poundedtogether, Guapo intended to make the celebrated "barbasco, " orfish-poison, which is used by all the Indians of South America incapturing fish. Guapo knew that a sufficient quantity of the barbascothrown into the water would kill either "temblador, " caribe, or any fishthat ever swam with fins. And so it proved. In the morning Guapo having prepared his barbasco, proceeded to the upper end of the lake-like opening of the river, andthere flung his poison into the stream. The slow current through thevalley greatly favoured him, and from the large quantity of roots he hadused, the whole pool was soon infected with it. This was seen from thewhitish tinge which the water assumed. The barbasco had scarcely time tosink to the bottom when small fish were seen coming to the surface, andturning "wrong side uppermost. " Then larger ones appeared, and in a fewminutes all the fish in that particular stretch of water, with severalgymnoti, were seen floating on the surface quite dead. To the great joyof Guapo and Leon, who sat by the bank watching, hundreds of the littlecaribes, with their bronze gills quite open, and their yellow belliesturned up, were seen among the rest. But Guapo had not made this great slaughter purely out of revenge. Hehad another object. They were not too well off for meat, and a dish offish would be welcome. Guapo and Don Pablo had already providedthemselves with long-handled nets, and they soon scooped out severalbasketfuls of fish. Among others they netted numerous "caribes, " forthese little monsters, fierce as they are, are not surpassed fordelicacy of flavour by any fish in the South American rivers. Thegymnoti approached the bank, where Guapo fished them out, not toeat--although they are often eaten. There was not a spark of electricityin them now. The barbasco had cured them of that; any one might havehandled them with safety, as there was not a charge left in their wholebattery. The lake was quite cleared of all its dangerous denizens, and Leon mightbathe with safety, as soon as he got well; and over the fish-dinner theycould now laugh at the adventures both of Leon and the electrified mule. CHAPTER XXII. THE CINCHONA-TREES. In about two weeks from their arrival in the valley, the house, with astable for the horse and mule, was completed, and all the necessaryfurniture as well. Had you entered the establishment about this time, you would have observed many odd articles and implements, most of themquite new. You would have seen boxes woven out of palm leaves, and bagsmade of the fibrous, cloth-like spathe of the "bussu, " filled with thesoft, silky cotton of the bombax, to be afterwards spun and woven forshirts and dresses. You would have seen baskets of various shapes and sizes woven out of therind of the leaf-stalks of a singular palm called "Iú, " which has nostem, but only leaves of ten feet long, growing directly out of theground. You would have seen chairs made of split palms and bamboo, and agood-sized table, upon which, at meal-time, might be noticed atable-cloth, not of diaper, but, what served equally well, the broadsmooth silken leaves of the plantain. There were cups, too, and plates, and bowls, and dishes, and bottles, of the light gourd-shell(_Crescentia cujete_), some of the bottles holding useful liquids, andcorked with the elastic pith of a palm. Other vessels of a boat-shapemight be noticed. There were large wooden vessels pointed at the ends like little canoes. They were nothing more than the spathes or flower-sheaths of one of thelargest of palms, the "_Inaga_. " This noble tree rises to the height ofone hundred feet, and carries feathery fronds of more than fifty feet inlength. The spathes are so large that they are used by the Indian womenfor cradles and baskets; and their wood is so hard, that hunters oftencook meat in them, hanging them over the fire when filled with water! Many other singular implements might have been noticed in the new home. One, a cylinder of what appeared to be wood, covered thickly withspinous points, hung against the wall. That was a grater, used for themanioc, or yucca roots; and it was a grater of nature's own making, forit was nothing more than a piece of one of the air roots of the"pashiuba" palm, already described. Another curious object hung nearthis last. It was a sort of conical bag, woven out of palm-fibre, with aloop at the bottom, through which loop a strong pole was passed, thatacted as a lever when the article was in use. This wicker-work bag wasthe "tipiti. " Its use was to compress the grated pulp of the maniocroots, so as to separate the juice from it, and thus make "cassava. " Theroots of the yucca, or manioc plant, grow in bunches like potatoes. Some of them are oblong--the length of a man's arm--and more than twentypounds in weight. When required for use, the bark is scraped off, andthey are grated down. They are then put into the tipiti, alreadymentioned; and the bag is hung up to a strong pin, while the lever ispassed through the loop at the bottom. Its short end goes under a firmnotch, and then some one usually sits upon the long end until the pulpis squeezed sufficiently dry. The bag is so formed that its extension, by the force of the lever, causes its sides to close upon the pulp, andthus press out the juice. The pulp is next dried in an oven, and becomesthe famous "cassava" or "farinha, " which, throughout the greater part ofSouth America, is the only bread that is used. The juice, of course, runs through the wicker-work of the _tipiti_ into a vessel below, andthere produces a sediment, which is the well-known "tapioca. " There are two kinds of the yucca or manioc-root, --the _yucca dulce_, and_yucca amarga_--the sweet and bitter. One may be eaten raw withoutdanger. The other, which very closely resembles it, if eaten raw, wouldproduce almost instant death, as its juice is one of the deadliest ofvegetable poisons. Even while it is dripping from the tipiti into thevessel placed below, great care is always taken lest children or otheranimals should drink of it. There were no beds--such things are hardly to be found in any part oftropical America--at least not in the low hot countries. To sleep in abed in these climates is far from being pleasant. The sleeper would beat the mercy of a thousand crawling things, --insects and reptiles. Hammocks, or "redes, " as they are called, take the place of bedsteads;and five hammocks, of different dimensions, could be seen about the newhouse. Some were strung up within, others in the porch in front, for, inbuilding his house, Don Pablo had fashioned it so that the roofprotruded in front, and formed a shaded verandah--a pleasant place inwhich to enjoy the evenings. Guapo had made the hammocks, having woventhe cords out of the epidermis of the leaf of a noble palm, called"tucum. " Their home being now sufficiently comfortable, Don Pablo began to turnhis attention to the object for which he had settled on that spot. Hehad already examined the cinchona-trees, and saw that they were of thefinest species. They were, in fact, the same which have since becomecelebrated as producing the "Cuzconin, " and known as _Cascarilla deCuzco_ (Cuzco bark). Of the Peruvian-bark trees there are many species, --between twenty andthirty. Most of these are true cinchona-trees, but there are also manykinds of the genus _Exostemma_, whose bark is collected as a febrifuge, and passes in commerce under the name of _Peruvian bark_. All these areof different qualities and value. Some are utterly worthless, and, likemany other kinds of "goods, " form a sad commentary on the honesty ofcommerce. The species, which grew on the sides of the adjacent hills, Don Pablorecognised as one of the most valuable. It was a nearly-allied speciesto the tree of Loxa, which produces the best bark. It was a tall slendertree--when full grown, rising to the height of eighty feet; but therewere some of every age and size. Its leaves were five inches long andabout half that breadth, of a reddish colour, and with a glisteningsurface, which rendered them easily distinguished from the foliage ofthe other trees. Now it is a fortunate circumstance that thePeruvian-bark trees differ from all others in the colour of theirleaves. Were this not the case, "bark-hunting" would be a very troublesomeoperation. The labour of finding the trees would not be repaid withdouble the price obtained for the bark. You may be thinking, my youngfriend, that a "cascarillero, " or bark-hunter, has nothing to do butfind a wood of these trees; and then the trouble of searching is over, and nothing remains but to go to work and fell them. So it would be, didthe cinchona-trees grow together in large numbers, but they do not. Onlya few--sometimes only a single tree--will be found in one place; and Imay here remark that the same is true of most of the trees of the GreatMontaña of South America. This is a curious fact, because it is adifferent arrangement from that made by nature in the forests of NorthAmerica. There a whole country will be covered with timber of a single, or atmost two or three species; whereas, in South America, the forests arecomposed of an endless variety. Hence it has been found difficult toestablish saw-mills in these forests, as no one timber can beconveniently furnished in sufficient quantity to make it worth while. Some of the palms, as the great _morichi_, form an exception to thisrule. These are found in vast _palmares_, or palm-woods, extending overlarge tracts of country, and monopolising the soil to themselves. Don Pablo, having spent the whole of a day in examining the cinchonas, returned home quite satisfied with them, both as regarded their quantityand value. He saw, from a high tree which he had climbed, "_manchas_, "or spots of the glistening reddish leaves, nearly an acre in breadth. This was a fortune in itself. Could he only collect 100, 000 lbs. Of thisbark, and convey it down stream to the mouth of the Amazon, it wouldthere yield him the handsome sum of 40, 000 or 50, 000 dollars! How longbefore he could accomplish this task he had not yet calculated; but heresolved to set about it at once. [Illustration: GUAPO AND THE 'NIMBLE PETERS. '] A large house had been already constructed for storing the bark, and inthe dry hot climate of the high Montaña, where they now were, Don Pabloknew it could be dried in the woods, where it was stripped from thetrees. CHAPTER XXIII. A PAIR OF SLOW GOERS. At length, all things being ready, Don Pablo and party set out for aday's work among the cinchonas. As it was the first day ofbark-gathering all went along to enjoy the novelty of the thing. A"mancha" of the cinchona trees was not far off, so their journey wouldbe a short one. For this reason, the horse and mule remained in thestable eating the fruits of the "murumuru" palm, of which all cattle areexceedingly fond. Even the hard undigested stones or nuts, after passingthrough the bodies of horses and cattle, are eagerly devoured by wild ortame hogs, and the zamuros, or black vultures, when hungered, take tothe pulpy fruit of this thorny palm-tree. It was a very early hour when they set out, for Don Pablo and his peoplewere no sluggards. Indeed, in that climate, the early morning hours arethe pleasantest, and they had made it a rule to be always up atdaybreak. They could thus afford to take a _siesta_ in their hammocksduring the hot noontide, --a custom very common, and almost necessary, intropical countries. Their road to the cinchonas led up the stream, onthe same side with the house. After going a few hundred yards, theyentered a grove of trees that had white trunks and leaves of a lightsilvery colour. The straight, slender stems of these trees, and thedisposition of their branches, --leaning over at the tops, --gave themsomewhat the appearance of palms. They were not palms, however, but"ambaïba" trees. So said Don Pablo, as they passed under their shade. "I shouldn't wonder, " added he, "if we should see that strange animalthe aï. The leaves of these trees are its favourite food, and it livesaltogether among their branches. " "You mean the 'nimble Peter, ' do you not, papa?" This inquiry was put by Leon, who had read about the animal under thisname, and had read many false stories of it, even in the works of thegreat Buffon. "Yes, " replied Don Pablo; "it goes by that name sometimes, on account ofits sluggish habits and slow motions. For the same reason the Englishcall it 'sloth, ' and it is known among naturalists as _bradypus_. Thereare two or three species, but all with very similar habits, though, asusual, the French classifiers have separated them into distinct genera. " "Why, Buffon says, " rejoined Leon, "that it is the most miserablecreature in the world; that it can scarcely get from tree to tree; thatsome remain in the same tree all their lives, or, that when one haseaten all the leaves off a tree, it drops to the ground, to save itselfthe trouble of getting down by the trunk, and, that when on the groundit cannot move a yard in an hour. Is all this true?" "Totally untrue. It is true the aï does not move rapidly over theground, but the ground is not its proper place no more than it is thatof the orang-otang, or other tree-monkeys. Its conformation shows thatnature intended it for an inhabitant of the trees, where it can moveabout with sufficient ease to procure its food. On the branches it isquite at home, or, rather, I should say, _under_ the branches, for, unlike the squirrels and monkeys, it travels along the under sides ofthe horizontal limbs, with its back downward. This it can do with ease, by means of its great curving claws, which are large enough to span thethickest boughs. In this position, with a long neck of _ninevertebrĉ_, --the only animal which has that number, --it can reach theleaves on all sides of it; and, when not feeding, this is its naturalposition of repose. "Its remaining during its whole life in one tree, or suffering itself tofall from the branches, are romances of the early Spanish voyagers, towhich M. Buffon gave too much credit. The aï does not descend to theground at all when it can help it, but passes from one tree to anotherby means of the outspreading branches. Sometimes, when these do notmeet, it has cunning enough to wait for a windy day, and then, takingadvantage of some branch blown nearer by the wind, it grasps it andpasses to the next tree. As it requires no drink, and can live withoutany other food than the leaves of the _cecropia_, of course it remainson a single tree so long as it has plenty of leaves. See!" exclaimed DonPablo, pointing up; "here are several trees stripped of their leaves!I'll warrant that was done by the aï. " "_A-ee_!" echoed a voice in the most lugubrious tones. "I thought so, " cried Don Pablo, laughing at the surprise which thevoice had created among the rest of the party. "That's the very fellowhimself, --this way, --here he is!" All of them ran under the tree to which Don Pablo pointed, and lookedup. There, sure enough, was an animal about the size of a cat, of a darkhay colour, with a patch of dirty orange and black upon the back. Thiscould be easily seen, for the creature was hanging along a horizontalbranch with its back downward, and its huge curving claws, all in abunch, were hooked over the branch. Its hair was thick and rough, and notail was visible, but its small round head and flat face was almost aslike the human face as is that of any monkey. Indeed, the others wouldhave taken it for a monkey, --Guapo excepted, --had they not been alreadytalking about it. "Oh, yonder's another!" cried Leon, pointing higher up in the tree; and, sure enough, there was, for the aï is usually found in company with itsmate. The other was a copy of the one already observed, with some slightdifference in size--no doubt it was the female one. Both had observedthe approach of the party, and now uttered their melancholy"Ayee--a-ee!" that sounded anything but agreeable. In fact, so verydisagreeable is the voice of this creature, that it has been consideredits best weapon of defence. Beside the utterance of their cry, neitherof them made any effort to escape or defend themselves. Don Pablo and the rest were about to pass on and leave the aïs to theirleaf diet, but Guapo had other notions on that subject. Ugly as thesecreatures were, Guapo intended to have one of them for his dinner. He, therefore, begged Don Pablo to stop a moment until he should get themdown. How was this to be done? Would he climb up and drag them from thetree? That is not so easily accomplished, for the aïs, with theircrescent claws, can hold on with terrible force. Besides, they were outupon the slender branches, where it would have been difficult to get atthem. But Guapo did not intend to climb. The tree was a slender one--he hadhis axe with him--and the next moment its keen blade was crashingthrough the bark of the ambaïba wood. A few minutes served to bring thetree down, and down it came, the aïs screaming as it fell. Guapo nowapproached to seize them, but about this he used some caution. Bothfinding themselves without hope of escape, prepared for defence. Buffonasserts that they make none. That is not true, as was seen by all theparty. Throwing themselves on their backs, they struck out with their fore-armsin a sort of mechanical manner. These with the long horny claws theykept playing in front of their bodies, striking alternately with them, and rapidly, as a dog will do when suddenly plunged into water. Guapodid not put his hands near them. He knew they would not bite, but healso knew that he might get a scratch with the sharp claws, and that hedid not wish for. But Guapo had a way to take them, and that he now putin practice. Lopping a couple of branches from the tree, he held one outto each of the aïs, and touched them with it on the breast. Each, as soon as it felt the branch, clutched it tightly between itspowerful fore-arms and held on as if for life and death. It would havetaken a stronger man than Guapo to have pulled either of the branchesaway again. The thing was now done. Giving his axe to Leon to carry forhim, Guapo lifted an aï, still clinging to the branch, in each hand, andcarried them off as if they had been a pair of water-pots. He did notwish to kill them until he got them home, alleging that they were betterfor eating when freshly butchered. The bark-hunters now continued their route, and shortly after entered alittle glade or opening in the forest, about an acre in size. When theyhad reached the middle of this, Guapo threw his aïs upon the ground andmarched on. "Why do you leave them?" inquired the others. "No fear for them, " replied Guapo; "they'll be there when we come back. If I carried them into the woods, they might steal off while we were atwork, but it would take them six hours to get to the nearest tree. " Alllaughed at this, and went on, leaving the aïs to themselves. Beforepassing out from the glade, they stopped a moment to look at the great, conical nests of the termites, or white ants, several of which, likesoldiers' tents, stood near the edge of the glade. It was yet early, theair was chilly, and the ants were not abroad; so that, after gazing fora while on these singular habitations, the bark-gatherers pursued theirway, and were soon under the shadow of the cinchona trees. CHAPTER XXIV. THE BARK-HUNTERS. In a few minutes the work began--that work which was to occupy them, perhaps, for several years. The first blow of Guapo's axe was the signalto begin the making of a fortune. It was followed by many others, untilone of the cinchonas lay along the sward. Then Guapo attacked another, as near the root as was convenient for chopping. Don Pablo's part of the work now began. Armed with a sharp knife, hemade circular incisions round the trunk, at the distance of severalfeet from each other, and a single longitudinal one intersecting all theothers. The branches were also served in a similar way, and then thetree was left as it lay. In three or four days they would return tostrip off the bark both from trunk and branches, and this would bespread out under the sun to dry. When light and dry it would be carriedto the storehouse. So the work went merrily on. The trees were taken asthey stood--the very young ones alone being left, as the bark of theseis useless for commerce. The Doña Isidora sat upon a fallen trunk, and, conversing with herhusband, watched the proceedings with interest. A new and happy futureseemed at no great distance off. Little Leona stood beside Guapo, watching the yellow chips as they flew, and listening to some very finestories with which Guapo was regaling her. Guapo loved little Leona. Hewould have risked his life for her, would Guapo, and Leona knew it. Leon was not particularly engaged on that day. When the bark was readyfor peeling he intended to take a hand with the rest. He could thenemploy himself in spreading it, or could lead the mule in carrying it tothe storehouse. Leon did not intend to be idle, but there happened to beno work for him just then; and after watching the bark-cutters forawhile, he sauntered back along the path, in order to have a little funwith the aïs. Leon had no very great confidence that he would find themin the place where they had been left, and yet he believed in Guapo. Butit was hard to understand that two animals, each endowed with a full setof legs and feet, should not be able to make their way for a distance oftwenty paces, and escape! After the rough handling they had had, too! Hewould have a peep at them, anyhow, to see how they were coming on. Soback he went. On getting near the glade their voices reached him. They were there, after all! He could hear them utter their pitiful "ay-ee--ay-ee!" and, as he thought, in a louder and more distressing tone than ever. Whatcould be the matter? They had been silent for some time, he was sure, for such cries as they now uttered could have been heard easily wherethe rest were. What could be the meaning of this fresh outburst? Hadsome new enemy attacked them? It seemed like enough. Leon stole forward, and peeped into the glade. No--there was nothingnear them! But what was the matter with the creatures? Instead of lyingquietly, as they had done when left behind, they were now rolling andtumbling backward and forward, and pitching about, and dancing first ontheir feet and then on their heads, and cutting all sorts of strangecapers! Could it be for their own amusement? No; their lamentable criesprecluded that supposition; besides, their odd attitudes and contortionsbespoke terror and pain! "Carrambo!" muttered Leon. "What's the matter with them?" They seemed inclined to escape towards the trees; but, after making afew lengths, they would fall to the ground, tumble about, and then, getting up again, head in the opposite direction! Leon was puzzled, --no wonder. He looked around for a solution of thisqueer conduct on the part of the aïs. No explanation appeared. At lengthhe bethought himself of going up to them. Perhaps, when nearer, he mightlearn what set them a-dancing. "Ha!" he ejaculated, struck with some sudden thought. "I know now;there's a snake at them. " This conjecture--for it was only a conjecture--caused him to stop short. It might be some venomous snake, thought he. The grass was not long, andhe could have seen a very large snake; but still a small coral snake, orthe little poisonous viper, might have been there. He fancied he sawsomething moving; but to get a better view he passed slowly around theedge of the glade, until he was nearly on the opposite side to thatwhere he had entered. He still kept at a good distance from the aïs, butas yet discovered no snake. To his great surprise, the aïs now lay stretched along the grass, theirstruggles appeared each moment to grow less violent, and theirmelancholy cries became weaker and weaker. Their contortions at lengthcame to an end. A feeble effort to raise themselves alone could beperceived, --then a spasmodic motion of their long crooked limbs, --theircries became indistinct; and, after a while, both lay motionless andsilent! Were they dead? Surely so, thought Leon. He stood gazing at them for some minutes. Not a motion of their bodiescould be perceived. Surely they had no longer lived! But, then, whatcould have killed them? There was no snake to be seen; no animal of anykind except themselves! Had they been taken with some suddendisease, --some kind of convulsions that had ended fatally? This seemedthe most probable thing, judging from the odd manner in which they hadacted. Maybe they had eaten some sort of plant that had poisoned them! These conjectures passed rapidly through the mind of Leon. Of course, heresolved to satisfy himself as to the cause of their death, if dead theyactually were. He began to draw nearer, making his advances with stealthand caution--as he was still apprehensive about the snake. After he had made a few paces in a forward direction, he began toperceive something moving around the bodies of the animals. Snakes? No. What then? A few paces nearer. See! the whole ground is in motion. Thebodies of the aïs, though dead, are covered with living, moving objects!Ha! _it is a "chacu" of the white ants_. Leon now comprehended the whole affair. The ground was literally alivewith the terrible _termites_. They had made their foray, or "chacu, " asit is called, from the neighbouring cones; they had attacked thehelpless aïs, and put them to death, with their poisonous stings!Already they were tearing them to pieces, and bearing them off to theirdark caves! So thick were they on the bodies of the animals, that thelatter had suddenly changed their colour, and now appeared to be nothingmore than living heaps of crawling insects! It was a hideous sight to behold, and Leon felt his flesh creep as helooked upon it. Still he felt a curiosity to witness the result, and hestood watching the busy crowd that had gathered about the aïs. He hadheard strange accounts of these white ants; how that, in a few minutes, they will tear the carcasses of large animals to pieces, and carry themaway to their dens; and he was determined to prove the truth of this byobservation. He did not go any nearer, for he was not without some dreadof these ugly creatures; but, happening to find himself beside a smalltree, with low horizontal branches, he climbed up, and sat down upon oneof the branches, resting his feet upon another. He was inclined to takethe thing as easily as possible. His perch commanded a full view of the operations of the termites, andfor a long time he sat watching them with interest. He could see that itwas not the same set that were always on the carcasses of the aïs. Onthe contrary, one host were always leaving the spot, while another tooktheir places, and from the great conical houses fresh bands appeared toissue. In fact, two great parallel belts of them, like army columns, stretched from the "hills" to the aïs, going in opposite directions. Those which travelled towards the cells presented a very differentappearance to the others. These were loaded with pieces of torn flesh, or skin with tufts of hair adhering to it; and each ant carried a pieceby far larger than its own body. Their bodies, in fact, were quitehidden under their disproportionate burdens. The others--those whichwere coming from the conical hills--were empty-handed, and presented theappearance of a whittish stream flowing along the surface of the ground! It was a most singular sight; and Leon sat watching the creatures untilhis head was giddy, and he felt as though the ground itself was inmotion. CHAPTER XXV. THE PUMA AND THE GREAT ANT-BEAR. All at once the attention of the boy was called away from the crawlingmillions. A rustling among some dead leaves was heard. It appeared toproceed from the edge of the glade, not far from the ant-hills. Thebranches of the underwood were seen to move, and the next moment aslender cylindrical object, about a foot and a half in length, wasprotruded out from the leaves. Had there not been a pair of small eyesand ears near the farther end of this cylindrical object, no one wouldhave taken it for the head and snout of an animal. But Leon saw thelittle sparkling black eyes, and he therefore conjectured that it wassome such creature. The next moment the body came into view, and a singular creature it was. It was about the size of a very large Newfoundland dog, though of adifferent shape. It was covered all over with long brownish hair, partof which looked so coarse as to resemble dry grass or bristles. On eachshoulder was a wide strip of black, bordered with whitish bands; and thetail, which was full three feet long, was clothed with a thick growth ofcoarse hair, several inches in length, that looked like strips ofwhalebone. This was carried aloft, and curving over the back. But themost curious feature of the animal was its snout. Talk of the nose of a grey hound. It would be a "pug" in comparison!That of this animal was full twice as long, and not half so thick, witha little mouth not over an inch in size, and without a single tooth! Itwas certainly the oddest snout Leon had ever seen. The legs, too, wereremarkable. They were stout and thick, the hinder ones appearing muchshorter than the fore-legs; but this was because the creature in itshind-feet was _plantigrade_, that is, it walked with the whole of itssoles touching the surface, which only bears and a few other sorts ofquadrupeds do. Its fore-feet, too, were oddly placed upon the ground. They had fourlong claws upon each, but these claws, instead of being spread out, asin the dog or cat, were all folded backward along the sole, and thecreature, to avoid treading on them, actually walked on the sides of itsfeet! The claws were only used for scraping up the ground, and then itcould bring them forward in a perpendicular position, like the blade ofa hoe, or the teeth of a garden-rake. Of course, with feet furnished insuch an out-of-the-way fashion, the animal moved but slowly over theground. In fact it went very slowly, and with a stealthy pace. Although Leon had never seen the creature before, he had read about it, and had also seen pictures of it. He knew it, therefore, at a glance. That proboscis-looking snout was not to be mistaken. It could belong tono other creature than the _tamanoir_, or _great ant-eater_, by thepeople of South America called the _ant-bear_. It was, in fact, thatvery thing; but to Leon's astonishment, as soon as it got fairly out ofthe bushes, he noticed a singular-looking hunch upon its back, just overthe shoulder. At first he could not make out what this was, as he hadnever heard of such a protuberance, besides, the tail half hid it fromhis view. All of a sudden the animal turned its head backwards, touchedthe hunch with its snout, gave itself a shake, and then the oddexcrescence fell to the ground, and proved to be a young ant-eater, withbushy tail and long snout, the "very image of its mother. " The large onewas thus seen to be a female that had been carrying her infant upon hershoulders. It was close to one of the ant-hills where the old tamanoir placed heryoung upon the ground, and turning away from it, she approached thegreat cone. Erecting herself upon her hind-feet, she stood with the foreones resting against the hill, apparently examining it, and consideringin what part of it the shell or roof was thinnest and weakest. Thesecones, composed of agglutinated sand and earth, are frequently sostoutly put together that it requires a pick-axe or crowbar to breakthem open. But the ant-eater knew well that her fore-feet were armed with animplement equal to either pick or crow, and she would certainly havemade a hole there and then, had she not noticed, on looking around tothe other side, that the inhabitants of the hill were all abroad uponone of their forays. This seemed to bring about a sudden change in herdetermination, and, dropping her fore-feet to the ground, she once morethrew up her great tail, and returned to where she had left her youngone. Partly pushing it before her with her snout, and partly lifting itbetween her strong fore-arms, she succeeded in bringing the latter tothe border of the path along which travelled the ants. Here she squatted down, and placed herself so that the point of her nosejust touched the selvedge of the swarming hosts, having caused theyoungster by her side to do the same. Then throwing out a long worm-liketongue, which glittered with a viscous coating, she drew it back againcovered with ants. These passed into her mouth, and thence, of course, into her capacious stomach. The tongue, which was more than a foot inlength, and nearly as thick as a quill, was again thrown out, and againdrawn back, and this operation she continued, the tongue making abouttwo "hauls" to every second of time! Now and then she stopped eating, inorder to give some instructions to the little one that was seen closelyimitating her, and with its more slender tongue dealing death among the_termites_. So very comic was the sight that Leon could not help laughing at it, ashe sat upon his perch. An end, however, was put to his merriment, by the sudden appearance ofanother animal--one of a different character. It was a large cat-likecreature, of a reddish-yellow, or tawny colour, long body and tail, round head, with whiskers, and bright gleaming eyes. Leon had seen thatsort of animal before. He had seen it led in strings by Indians throughthe streets of Cuzco, and he at once recognised it. It was the_Puma_--the maneless lion of America. The specimens which Leon had seen with the Indians had been renderedtame and harmless. He knew that, but he had also been told that theanimal in its wild state is a savage and dangerous beast. This is trueof the puma in some districts, while in others the creature is cowardly, and will flee at the sight of man. In all cases, however, when the pumais brought to bay, it makes a desperate fight, and both dogs and menhave been killed in the attack. Leon had not been frightened at the tamanoir. Even had it been a savagecreature, he knew it could not climb a tree--though there are twosmaller species of ant-bears in South America that can--and he thereforeknew he was quite safe on his perch. But his feelings were verydifferent when the red body of the puma came in sight. It could run upthe smoothest trunk in the forest with as much ease and agility as acat, and there would be no chance of escaping from it if it feltdisposed to attack him. Of this the boy was fully conscious, and nowonder he was alarmed. His first thought was to leap down, and make for the cinchona-trees, where the others were; but the puma had entered the glade from thatside, and it was therefore directly in his way: he would have run rightin its teeth by going toward the cinchona-trees. He next thought ofslipping quietly down, and getting into the woods behind him. Unfortunately, the tree on which he was stood out in the glade quiteapart from any others, the puma would see him go off, and, of course, could overtake him in a dozen leaps. These thoughts passed through theboy's mind in a few seconds of time; and in a few seconds of time he wasconvinced that his best course would be to remain where he was, and keepquiet. Perhaps the puma would not notice him--as yet he had not. No doubt he would have done so, had there been nothing else on the spotto take off his attention; but just as he came into the open ground, hiseyes fell upon the ant-eaters, where they lay squatted and licking upthe termites. He had entered the glade in a sort of skulking trot, butthe moment he saw the tamanoirs he halted, drew his body into acrouching attitude, and remained thus for some moments, while his longtail oscillated from side to side, as that of a cat when about to springupon a mouse or a sparrow. Just at this moment the tamanoir, having turned round to address someconversation to her young companion, espied him, and sprang to her feet. She recognised in the puma--as in others of his race--a deadly enemy. With one sweep of her fore-arm she flung the young one behind her, untilit rested against the wall of the ant-hill, and then, following in allhaste, threw herself into an erect attitude in front of her young, covering it with her body. She was now standing firm upon her hind-feet--her back resting againstthe mud wall--but her long snout had entirely disappeared! That was heldclose along her breast, and entirely concealed by the shaggy tail, whichfor this purpose had been brought up in front. Her defence rested in herstrong fore-arms, which, with the great claws standing at right angles, were now held out in a threatening manner. The young one, no doubt awareof some danger, had drawn itself into its smallest bulk, and was clewedup behind her. The puma dashed forward, open-mouthed, and began the attack. He lookedas though he would carry everything by the first assault; but a sharptear from the tamanoir's claws drew the blood from his cheek, andalthough it rendered him more furious, it seemed to increase hiscaution. In the two or three successive attempts he kept prudently outof reach of these terrible weapons. His adversary held her fore-legswide open, as though she was desirous of getting the other to rushbetween them, that she might clutch him, after the manner of the bears. This was exactly what she wanted, and in this consists the chief mode ofdefence adopted by these animals. The puma, however, seemed to be up toher trick. This thrust-and-parry game continued for some minutes, and might havelasted longer, had it not been for the young tamanoir. This foolishlittle creature, who up to that moment was not very sure what the fusswas all about, had the imprudent curiosity to thrust out its slendersnout. The puma espied it, and making a dart forward, seized the snoutin his great teeth, and jerked the animal from under. It uttered a lowsquall, but the next moment its head was "crunched" between the muscularjaws of the puma. The old one now appeared to lose all fear and caution. Her tail felldown. Her long snout was unsheathed from under its protection, and sheseemed undecided what to do. But she was not allowed much time toreflect. The puma, seeing the snout, the most vulnerable part, uncovered, launched himself forward like an arrow, and caught hold of itin his bristling fangs. Then having dragged his victim forward, he flungher upon her breast, and mounting rapidly on her back, proceeded toworry her at his pleasure. Although Leon pitied the poor tamanoir, yet he dared not interfere, andwould have permitted the puma to finish his work, but at that moment asharp pain, which he suddenly felt in his ankle, caused him to startupon his seat, and utter an involuntary scream. CHAPTER XXVI. ATTACK OF THE WHITE ANTS. Leon looked down to ascertain what had caused him such a sudden pain. The sight that met his eyes made his blood run cold. The ground belowwas alive and moving. A white stratum of ants covered it on all sides tothe distance of several yards. _They were ascending the tree!_ Nay, more; a string of them had already crawled up; the trunk was crowded byothers coming after; and several were upon his feet, and legs, andthighs! It was one of these that had stung him! The fate of the aïs--which he had just witnessed--and the sight of thehideous host, caused him again to scream out. At the same time he hadrisen to his feet, and was pulling himself up among the upper branches. He soon reached the highest; but he had not been a moment there, when hereflected that it would be no security. The creatures were crawlingupwards as fast as they could come. His next thought was to descend again, leap from the tree, and crushingthe vermin under his feet, make for the bark-cutters. He had made up hismind to this course, and was already half-down, when _he remembered thepuma_! In his alarm at the approach of the ants he had quite forgottenthis enemy, and he now remembered that it was directly in the way of hisintended escape. He turned his eyes in that direction. It was not there!The ant-bears were still upon the ground--the young one dead, and themother struggling in her last agonies; but no puma! The boy began to hope that his cries had frightened him off. His hopewas short-lived; for on glancing around the glade, he now beheld thefierce brute crouching among the grass, and evidently coming towardshim! What was to be done? Would the puma attack him in the tree? Surelyhe would; but what better would he be on the ground? No better, butworse. At all events he had not time for much reflection, for before twoseconds the fierce puma was close to the tree. Leon was helpless--hegave himself up for lost. He could only cry for help, and he raised hisvoice to its highest pitch. The puma did not spring up the tree at once, as Leon had expected. Onthe contrary, it crouched round and round with glaring eyes and waggingtail, as if calculating the mode of attack. Its lips were red--stainedwith the blood of the ant-eaters--and this added to the hideousness ofits appearance. But it needed not that, for it was hideous enough at anytime. Leon kept his eyes upon it, every moment expecting it to spring up thetree. All at once he saw it give a sudden start, and at the same instanthe heard a hissing noise, as if something passed rapidly through theair. Ha! something sticking in the body of the puma! It is an arrow, --apoisoned arrow! The puma utters a fierce growl--it turns uponitself--the arrow is crushed between its teeth. Another "hist!"--anotherarrow! Hark! a well-known voice--well-known voices--the voices of DonPablo and Guapo! See! they burst into the glade--Don Pablo with his axe, and Guapo with his unerring gravatána! The puma turns to flee. He has already reached the border of the wood;he staggers--the poison is doing its work. Hurrah! he is down; but thepoison does not kill him, for the axe of Don Pablo is crashing throughhis skull. Hurrah! the monster is dead, and Leon is triumphantly borneoff on the shoulders of the faithful Guapo! Don Pablo dragged the puma away, in order that they might get his fineskin. The ant-eaters, both of which were now dead, he left behind, as hesaw that the termites were crawling thickly around them, and had alreadybegun their work of devastation. Strange to say, as the party returnedthat way, going to dinner, not a vestige remained either of the aïs orthe ant-eaters, except a few bones and some portions of coarse hair. Therest of all these animals had been cleared off by the ants, and carriedinto the cells of their hollow cones! It was, no doubt, the noise of the bark-hunters that had started theant-eaters abroad, for these creatures usually prowl only in the night. The same may have aroused the fierce puma from his lair, although he isnot strictly a nocturnal hunter. A curious incident occurred as they approached the glade on their wayhome. The male tamanoir was roused from his nest among the dry leaves, and Guapo, instead of running upon him and killing the creature, warnedthem all to keep a little back, and he would show them some fun. Guaponow commenced shaking the leaves, so that they rattled as if rain wasfalling upon them. At this the ant-eater jerked up its broad tail, andappeared to shelter itself as with an umbrella! Guapo then went towardsit, and commenced driving it before him just as if it had been a sheepor goat, and in this manner he took it all the way to the house. Ofcourse Guapo took care not to irritate it; for, when that is done, theant-eater will either turn out of his way or stop to defend itself. The tamanoir is not so defenceless a creature as might at first sight beimagined by considering his small toothless mouth and slow motions. Hismode of defence is that which has been described, and which is quitesufficient against the tiger-cat, the ocelot, and all the smallerspecies of feline animals. No doubt the old female would have proved amatch for the puma had she not been thrown off her guard by his seizingupon her young. It is even asserted that the great ant-bear sometimeshugs the jaguar to death; but this I believe to be a mistake, as thelatter is far too powerful and active to be thus conquered. Doubtlessthe resemblance of the jaguar to some of the smaller spotted cats ofthese countries, leads to a great many misconceptions concerning theprowess of the _American tiger_. Besides the tamanoir there are two, or perhaps three, other species of_ant-bears_ in the forests of South America. These, however, are sodifferent in habits and appearance, that they might properly be classedas a separate genus of animals. They are _tree-climbers_, which thetamanoir is not, spite of his great claws. They pursue the ants thatbuild their nests upon the high branches, as well as the wasps and bees;and to befit them for this life, they are furnished with _nakedprehensile tails_, like the opossums and monkeys. These arecharacteristics entirely distinct from those of the _Myrmecophagajubata_, or _great_ ant-eater. One of these species is the _tamandua_, called by the Spano-Americans_Osso hormiguero_ (ant-bear). The tamandua is much less than thetamanoir, being only three and a half feet in length, while the latteris over seven. The former is of a stouter build, with neither so long asnout in proportion, nor such claws. The claws, moreover, are made fortree-climbing, and are not so much in the way when the animal walks onthe ground. It is, therefore, a more active creature, and stands betterupon its limbs. Its fur is short and silky, but the tail is nearlynaked, and, as already stated, highly prehensile, although it does notsleep hanging by the tail as some other animals do. The tamandua is usually of a dull straw-colour, although it varies inthis respect, so that several species have been supposed to exist. Itspends most of its time upon the trees; and in addition to its ant-diet, it feeds upon wild honey, and bees too, whenever it can catch them. Thefemale, like the tamanoir, produces only one young at a birth, and likethe other species, carries it upon her back until it is able to providefor itself. The tamandua has sometimes been called _tridactyla_, or the"three-toed ant-eater, " because it has only three claws upon each ofits fore-feet, whereas the tamanoir is provided with four. Another species of "ant-bear, " differing from both in size and in manyof its habits, is the "little ant-eater. " This one has only two claws oneach fore-foot, hence its specific name. It is a very smallcreature--not larger than the common grey squirrel--with a prehensiletail like the tamandua. The tail, however, is not entirely naked--onlyon the under side near the point. It is not so good a walker as thethree-toed kind, though more active on its feet than the tamanoir. Standing upon its hind-feet, and supporting itself also by thetail--which it has already thrown around some branch--the littleant-eater uses its fore-feet as hands to carry food to its mouth. Itlives among the trees, and feeds upon wasps, bees, and especially thelarvĉ of both; but it does not use the tongue to any great extent. Itis, on this account, an essentially different sort of animal. The little ant-eater is usually of a bright yellow colour, brownish onthe back; but there are many varieties in this respect, and some are ofa snowy whiteness. Its fur is soft and silky, sometimes slightly curledor matted at the points, and the tail fur is annulated, or ringed, withthe prevailing colours of the body. So much for the ant-bears of America. CHAPTER XXVII. THE ANT-LION. Ants are disagreeable insects in any country, but especially so in warmtropical climates. Their ugly appearance, their destructive habits, but, above all, the pain of their sting, or rather bite--for ants do notsting as wasps, but bite with the jaws, and then infuse poison into thewound--all these render them very unpopular creatures. A superficialthinker would suppose that such troublesome insects could be of no use, and would question the propriety of Nature in having created them. But when we give the subject a little attention, we find that they werenot created in vain. Were it not for these busy creatures, what wouldbecome of the vast quantities of decomposing substances found in somecountries? What would be done with the decaying vegetation and the deadanimal matter? Why, in many places, were it not consumed by theseinsects, and reorganised into new forms of life, it would producepestilence and death; and surely these are far more disagreeable thingsthan ants. Of ants there are many different kinds; but the greatest number ofspecies belong to warm countries, where, indeed, they are most useful. Some of these species are so curious in their habits, that whole volumeshave been written about them, and naturalists have spent a life-time intheir study and observation. Their social and domestic economy is of themost singular character, more so than that of the bees; and I am afraidhere to give a single trait of their lives, lest I should be led on totalk too much about them. I need only mention the wonderful nests orhills which some species build--those great cones of twenty feet inheight, and so strong that wild bulls run up their sides and stand upontheir tops without doing them the least injury! Others make their houses of cylindrical form, rising several feet fromthe surface. Others, again, prefer nesting in the trees, where theyconstruct large cellular masses of many shapes, suspending them from thehighest branches; while many species make their waxen dwellings inhollow trunks, or beneath the surface of the earth. There is not aspecies, however, whose habits, fully observed and described, would notstrike you with astonishment. Indeed, it is difficult to believe allthat is related about these insects by naturalists who have made themtheir study. One can hardly understand how such little creatures can begifted with so much intelligence, or _instinct_, as some choose to callit. Man is not the only enemy of the ants. If he were so, it is to be fearedthat these small insignificant creatures would soon make the earth toohot for him. So prolific are they, that if left to themselves our wholeplanet would, in a short period, become a gigantic ants' nest! Nature has wisely provided against the over increase of the ant family. No living thing has a greater variety of enemies than they. In all thedivisions of animated nature there are ant-destroyers--_ant-eaters_! Tobegin with the mammalia, man himself feeds upon them--for there aretribes of Indians in South America, the principal part of whose foodconsists of dried termites, which they bake into a kind of "paste!"There are quadrupeds that live exclusively on them, as the ant-bear, already described, and the _pangolins_, or scaly ant-eaters of theEastern continent. There are birds, too, of many sorts that devour theants; and there are even some who make them exclusively their food, asthe genus _Myothera_, or "ant-catchers. " Many kinds of reptiles, bothsnakes and lizards, are ant-eaters; and, what is strangest of all, thereare _insects_ that prey upon them! No wonder, then, with such a variety of enemies that the ants are keptwithin proper limits, and are not allowed to overrun the earth. The observations just made are very similar to those that were addressedby Doña Isidora to the little Leona, one day when they were left alone. The others had gone about their usual occupation of bark-cutting, andthese, of course, remained at home to take care of the house and cookthe dinner. That was already hanging over a fire outside the house: forin these hot countries it is often more convenient to do the cookingout-of-doors. Doña Isidora, busy with some sewing, was seated under the shadow of thebanana-trees, and the pretty little Leona was playing near her. Leonahad been abusing the ants, partly on account of their having sofrightened Leon, and partly because one of the red species had bittenherself the day before; and it was for this reason that her mother hadentered into such explanations regarding these creatures, with a view ofexculpating them from the bitter accusations urged against them byLeona. Talking about ants very naturally led them to cast their eyes tothe ground to see if any of the creatures were near; and sure enoughthere were several of the red ones wandering about. Just then the eyesof Doña Isidora rested upon a very different insect, and she drew theattention of her daughter to it. It was an insect of considerable size, being full an inch in length, with an elongated oval body, and a small flat head. From the headprotruded two great horny jaws, that bore some resemblance to a pair ofcalliper compasses. Its legs were short and very unfitted for motion. Indeed they were not of much use for that purpose, as it could make verylittle way on them, but crawled only sidewards, or backwards, with greatapparent difficulty. The creature was of a greyish or sand colour; andin the sand, where it was seated, it might not have been observed at allhad not the lady's eyes been directed upon the very spot. But DoñaIsidora, who was a very good entomologist, recognised it; and, knowingthat it was a very curious insect, on this account called the attentionof her daughter to it. "What is it, mamma?" inquired the little Leona, bending forward toexamine it. "The _ant-lion_. " "The ant-lion! Why, mamma, it is an insect! How then can it be calledlion?" "It is a name given it, " replied the lady, "on account of its fiercehabits, which, in that respect, assimilate it to its powerfulnamesake, --the king of the beasts; and, indeed, this little creature hasmore strength and ferocity in proportion to its size than even the lionhimself. " "But why the _ant_-lion, mamma?" "Because it preys principally on ants. I have said there are insectant-eaters. This is one of them. " "But how can such a slow creature as that get hold of them? Why, theants could crawl out of its way in a moment!" "That is true. Nevertheless it manages to capture as many as itrequires. Remember 'the race is not always to the swift. ' It is bystratagem it succeeds in taking its prey--a very singular stratagem too. If you will sit back and not frighten it, I have no doubt it will soongive you an opportunity of seeing how it manages the matter. " Leona took a seat by the side of her mother. They were both at just sucha distance from the ant-lion that they could observe every movement itmade; but for a considerable time it remained quiet; no doubt, becausethey had alarmed it. In the interval Doña Isidora imparted to herdaughter some further information about its natural history. "The ant-lion, " said she, "is not an insect in its perfect state, butonly the _larva_ of one. The perfect insect is a very differentcreature, having wings and longer legs. It is one of the _neuropterous_tribe, or those with nerved wings. The wings of this species restagainst each other, forming a covering over its body, like the roof upona house. They are most beautifully reticulated like the finestlace-work, and variegated with dark spots, that give the insect a veryelegant appearance. Its habits are quite different to those which itfollows when a larva, or in that state when it is the ant-lion. It fliesbut little during the day, and is usually found quietly sitting amongstthe leaves of plants, and seems to be one of the most pacific andharmless of insects. How very different with the larva--the veryreverse--See!" Doña Isidora pointed to the ant-lion that was just then beginning tobestir itself, and both sat silent regarding it attentively. First, then, the little creature going backwards, and working with itscallipers, traced a circle on the surface of the sand. This circle wasbetween two and three inches in diameter. Having completed it, it nowcommenced to clear out all the sand within the circle. To accomplishthis, it was seen to scrape up the sand with one of its fore-feet, andshovel a quantity of it upon its flat head; then, giving a sudden jerkof the neck, it pitched the sand several inches outside the tracedcircumference. This operation it repeated so often, and so adroitly, that in a veryshort time a round pit began to show itself in the surface of theground. Whenever it encountered a stone, this was raised between itscallipers and pitched out beyond the ring. Sometimes stones occurredthat were too large to be thrown out in this way. These it managed toget upon its back, and, then crawling cautiously up the sides of thepit, it tumbled them upon the edge and rolled them away. Had it met witha stone so large as to render this impossible, it would have left theplace, and chosen another spot of ground. Fortunately this was not thecase, and they had an opportunity of watching the labour to itsconclusion. For nearly an hour they sat watching it--of course not neglecting theirother affairs--and, at the end of that time, the ant-lion had jerked outso much sand, that a little funnel-shaped pit was formed nearly as deepas it was wide. This was its trap, and it was now finished and ready foraction. Having made all its arrangements, it had nothing more to do than remainat the bottom of the pit, and wait patiently until some unfortunate antshould chance to come that way and fall in; and where these insects wereconstantly wandering over the ground, such an accident would, sooner orlater, be certain to take place. Lest the ant should peep into the pit, discover its hideous form below, and then retreat, this ant-lion had actually the cunning to bury itsbody in the sand, leaving only a small portion of its head to be seen. Both Doña Isidora and the little Leona remained watching with increasedinterest. They were very anxious to witness the result. They were notkept long in suspense. I have already stated that many ants werecrawling about. There were dozens of them "quatering" the ground inevery direction in search of their own prey; and they left not an inchof it unsearched. At last one was seen to approach the trap of theant-lion. Curiosity brings it to the very edge of that terriblepit-fall. It protrudes its head and part of its body over the brink--itis not such a terrible gulf to look into--if it should slip down, itcould easily crawl out again. Ha! it little knows the enemy that is ambushed there. It perceivessomething singular--an odd something--perhaps it might be something goodto eat. It is half resolved to slide down and make a closer examinationof this something. It is balancing on the brink, and would, no doubt, have gone down voluntarily, but that is no longer left to its ownchoice. The mysterious object at the bottom of the funnel suddenlysprings up and shows itself--it is the ant-lion in all its hideousproportions; and before the little ant can draw itself away, the otherhas flung around it a shower of sand that brings it rolling down theside of the pit. Then the sharp callipers are closed upon thevictim--all the moisture in his body is sucked out--and his remains, nowa dry and shapeless mass, are rested for a moment upon the head of thedestroyer, and then jerked far outside the pit! The ant-lion now dresses his trap, and, again burying himself in thesand, awaits another victim. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE TATOU-POYOU AND THE DEER CARCASS. Doña Isidora and Leona had watched all the manoeuvres of the ant-lionwith great interest, and Leona, after the bite she had had, was not inany mood to sympathise with the ants. Indeed, she felt rather gratefulto the ant-lion, ugly as he was, for killing them. Presently Leon returned from the woods, and was shown the trap in fulloperation; but Leon, upon this day, was full of adventures that hadoccurred upon the hills to himself, Guapo, and Don Pablo. In fact, hehad hastened home before the others to tell his mamma of the oddincidents to which he had been a witness. That morning they had discovered a new _mancha_ of cinchona trees. Whenproceeding towards them they came upon the dead carcass of a deer. Itwas a large species, the _Cervus antisensis_, but, as it had evidentlybeen dead several days, it was swollen out to twice its original size, as is always the case with carcasses of animals left exposed in a warmclimate. It was odd that some preying animals had not eaten it up. Aclump of tall trees, that shaded it, had, no doubt, concealed it fromthe sharp sight of the vultures, and these birds, contrary to what hasso often been alleged, can find no dead body by the smell. Neither antsnor animals that prey upon carrion had chanced to come that way, andthere lay the deer intact. So thought Don Pablo and Leon. Guapo, however, was of a differentopinion, and, going up to the body, he struck it a blow with his axe. Tothe surprise of the others, instead of the dead sound which theyexpected to hear, a dry crash followed the blow, and a dark holeappeared where a piece of thin shell-like substance had fallen off. Another blow from Guapo's axe, and the whole side went in. Not a bit ofcarcass was there; there were bones--clean bones--and dry hard skin, butno flesh, not an atom of flesh! "Tatou-poyou!" quietly remarked Guapo. "What!" said Don Pablo, "an armadillo, you think?" recognising, inGuapo's words, the Indian name for one of the large species ofarmadillos. "Yes, " replied Guapo. "All eaten by the tatou-poyou. See! there's hishole. " Don Pablo and Leon bent over the sham carcass, and, sure enough, underwhere its body had been they could see a large hole in the ground. Outside the carcass, also, at the distance of several feet was another. "This is where he entered, " said Guapo, pointing to the second. "He'snot about here now, " continued he, "no, no, --ate all the meat, and gonelong ago. " This was evident, as the hollow skeleton was quite dry, and hadevidently been empty for a good while. Don Pablo was pleased at this incident, as it gave him an opportunity ofverifying a curious habit of the armadillos. These creatures are amongthe finest burrowers in the world, and can bury themselves in the earthin a few seconds time; but, being badly toothed, --some of themaltogether without teeth, --they can only feed upon very soft substances. Putrid flesh is with them a favourite "dish, " and in order to get atthe softest side of a carcass, they burrow under, and enter it frombelow, rarely leaving their horrid cave until they have thoroughlycleared it out. The bark-hunters now passed on, Don Pablo making many inquiries aboutthe armadillos, and Guapo giving replies, while Leon listened withinterest. Guapo knew a good deal about these curious creatures, for hehad eaten many a dozen of them in his time, and as many different kindsof them too. Their feeding upon carrion had no effect on Guapo'sstomach, and, indeed, white people in South America relish them as muchas Indians. The white people, however, make a distinction in thespecies, as they suppose some kinds to be more disposed to a vegetablediet than others. There are some in the neighbourhood of the settlements, that_occasionally pay a visit to the graveyards or cemeteries_, and thesekinds do not go down well. All of them will devour almost any sort oftrash that is soft and pulpy, and they are more destructive to the antthan even the ant-eaters themselves. How so? Because, instead of makinga nice little hole in the side of the ant-hill, as the tamanoirs do, andthrough this hole eating the ants themselves, the armadillos break downa large part of the structure and devour the _larvĉ_. Now the ants lovethese _larvĉ_ more than their own lives, and when these are destroyed, they yield themselves up to despair, refuse to patch up the building, the rain gets in, and the colony is ruined and breaks up. It does not follow, however, that the flesh of the armadillo should be"queer" because the animal itself eats queer substances. Amongcarnivorous creatures the very opposite is sometimes the truth; and someanimals--as the tapir, for instance--that feed exclusively on sweet andsucculent vegetables, produce a most bitter flesh for themselves. Aboutthis there is no standing law either way. The flesh of the armadillo is excellent eating, not unlike young pork, and, when "roasted in the shell" (the Indian mode of cooking it), it isquite equal, if not superior, to a baked "pig, " a dish very much eatenin our own country. Guapo did not call them armadillos--he had several Indian names fordifferent kinds of them. "Armadillo" is the Spanish name, and signifiesthe "little armed one, " the diminutive of "armado" or "armed. " This nameis peculiarly appropriate to these animals, as the hard bony casingwhich covers the whole upper parts of their bodies, bears an exceedingresemblance to the suits of plate armour worn in the days of Cortez andchivalry. On the head there is the helmet, the back is shielded by a corslet, andeven the limbs are covered with greaves. Of course, this armour isarranged differently in the different species, and there is more or lesshair upon all, between the joinings of the plates. These points were not touched upon by Guapo, but others of equalinterest were. He went on to say that he knew many different kinds ofthem;--some not bigger than a rat, and some as large as a full-grownsheep; some that were slow in their paces, and others that could outruna man; some that were flat, and could squat so close as hardly to beseen against the ground, --(these were _tatou-poyous_, the sort that hadhollowed out the deer); and some again that were high-backed and nearlyglobe-shaped. Such was Guapo's account of these curious animals whichare found only in the warmer regions of North and South America. CHAPTER XXIX. AN ARMADILLO HUNT. Conversing in this way, the bark-hunters, at length, reached thecinchona-trees, and then all talk about armadillos was at an end. Theywent lustily to their work--which was of more importance--and, underGuapo's axe, several of the cinchonas soon "bit the dust. " There was a spot of open ground just a little to one side of where thesetrees stood. They had noticed, on coming up, a flock of zamuros, orblack vultures, out upon this ground, clustered around some object. Itwas the carcass of another deer. The first blow of the axe startled thebirds, and they flapped a short way off. They soon returned, however, not being shy birds, but the contrary. There was nothing in all this to create surprise, except, perhaps, thedead deer. What had been killing these animals? Not a beast of prey, forthat would have devoured them, unless, indeed, it might be the puma, that often kills more than he can eat. The thought had occurred to Don Pablo that they might have died from thepoisoned arrows of an Indian. This thought somewhat disquieted him, forhe knew not what kind of Indians they might be, --they might be friendlyor hostile;--if the latter, not only would all his plans be frustrated, but the lives of himself and party would be in danger. Guapo could notassure him on this head; he had been so long absent from the GreatMontaña that he was ignorant of the places where the tribes of theseparts might now be located. These tribes often change their homes. He knew that the Chunchos sometimes roamed so far up, and they were themost dangerous of all the Indians of the Montaña, --haters of the whites, fierce and revengeful. It was they who several times destroyed thesettlements and mission stations. If Chunchos were in the woods theymight look out for trouble. Guapo did not think there were any Indiansnear. He would have seen some traces of them before now, and he hadobserved none since their arrival. This assurance of the knowing Indianquite restored Don Pablo's confidence, and they talked no longer on thesubject. After a while, their attention was again called to thevultures. These filthy creatures had returned to the deer, and werebusily gorging themselves, when, all at once, they were seen to rise upas if affrighted. They did not fly far, --only a few feet, --and stoodwith outstretched necks looking towards the carrion, as if whatever hadfrightened them was there. The bark-hunters could perceive nothing. It was the body of a smalldeer, already half eaten, and no object bigger than a man's hand couldhave been concealed behind it. The zamuros, however, _had_ seensomething strange--else they would hardly have acted as they did--and, with this conviction, the bark-hunters stopped their work to observethem. After a while the birds seemed to take fresh courage, hopped back to thecarrion, and recommenced tearing at it. In another moment they againstarted and flew back, but, this time, not so far as before, and thenthey all returned again, and, after feeding another short while, startedback a third time. This was all very mysterious, but Guapo, guessing what was the matter, solved the mystery by crying out, -- "_Tatou-poyou_!" "Where?" inquired Don Pablo. "Yonder, master, yonder in the body of the beast. " Don Pablo looked, and, sure enough, he could see something moving; itwas the head and shoulders of an armadillo. It had burrowed and come upthrough the body of the deer, thus meeting the vultures half-way! Nodoubt, it was the mysterious mode by which it had entered on the stagethat had frightened them. They soon, however, got over their affright, and returned to theirrepast. The armadillo--a very large one--had, by this time, crept out into theopen air, and went on eating. For a while the zamuros took no heed of him, deeming, perhaps, that, although he had come in by the back-door, he might have as good a rightupon the premises as themselves. Their pacific attitude, however, wasbut of short duration; something occurred to ruffle their temper--somesilent affront, no doubt, for the bark-hunters heard nothing. Perhapsthe _tatou_ had run against the legs of one, and scraped it with thesharp edge of his corslet. Whether this was the cause or no, a scufflecommenced, and the beast in armour was attacked by all the vultures atonce. Of course he did not attack in turn, he had no means; he actedaltogether on the defensive; and this he was enabled to do by simplydrawing in his legs and flattening himself upon the ground. He was thenproof, not only against the beaks and weak talons of a vulture, but hemight have defied the royal eagle himself. After flapping him with their wings, and pecking him with their filthybeaks, and clawing him with their talons, the zamuros saw it was all tono purpose, and desisted. If they could not damage him, however, theycould prevent him from eating any more of the deer; for the moment hestretched out his neck, several vultures sprang at him afresh, and wouldhave wounded him in the tender parts of his throat had he not quicklydrawn in his head again. Seeing that his feast was at an end--at leastabove ground--he suddenly raised his hind-quarters, and in a brace ofseconds buried himself in the earth. The vultures pecked him behind ashe disappeared, but the odd manner of his exit, like that of his_entrée_, seemed to mystify them, and several of them stood for somemoments in neck-stretched wonder. This scene had scarcely ended when a pair of fresh armadillos wereespied, coming from the farther edge of the opening, and, in fact, fromthe edge of a precipice, for the river flowed close by, and its channelwas at that point shut in by cliffs. These two were large fellows, andwere making speedily towards the carrion, in order to get up before itwas all gone. Guapo could stand it no longer. Guapo had tasted roastarmadillo, and longed for more. In an instant, therefore, axe in hand, he was off to intercept the new-comers. Don Pablo and Leon followed tosee the sport and assist in the capture. The armadillos, although not afraid of the vultures, seeing the huntersapproach, turned tail and made for the precipice. Guapo took after one, while Don Pablo and Leon pursued the other. Guapo soon overhauled hisone, but, before he could lay his hands upon it, it had already halfburied itself in the dry ground. Guapo, however, seized the tail andheld on; and, although not able to drag it out, he was resolved itshould get no deeper. [Illustration: THE ESCAPE OF THE ARMADILLO. ] The one pursued by Don Pablo had got close to the edge of the precipice, before either he or Leon could come up with it. There it stood for amoment, as if in doubt what plan to pursue. Don Pablo and Leon werecongratulating themselves that they had fairly "cornered" it, for thecliff was a clear fall of fifty feet, and, of course, it could get nofarther in that direction, while they approached it from two sides soas to cut off its retreat. They approached it with caution, as they werenow near the edge, and it would not do to move too rashly. Both werebent forward with their arms outstretched to clutch their prey; theyfelt confident it was already in their grasp. Judge their astonishment, then, at seeing the creature suddenly clew itself into a round ball, androll over the cliff! They looked below. They saw it upon the ground; they saw it open outagain, apparently unharmed, for, the next moment, it scuttled off andhid itself among the rocks by the edge of the water! They turned toward Guapo, who was still holding his one by the tail, andcalling for help. Although it was but half buried, all three of themcould not have dragged it forth by the tail. That member would havepulled out before the animal could have been dislodged; and such is notan unfrequent occurrence to the hunters of the armadillo. Don Pablo, however, took hold of the tail and held fast until Guapo loosened theearth with his axe, and then the creature was more easily "extracted. " Ablow on its head from Guapo made all right, and it was afterwardscarried safely to the house, and "roasted in the shell. " That was a great day among the "armadillos. " CHAPTER XXX. THE OCELOT. During the whole summer, Don Pablo, Guapo, and Leon, continuedbark-gathering. Every day they went out into the woods, excepting Sundayof course. That was kept as a day of rest; for, although far fromcivilised society, there was not the less necessity for their beingChristians. God dwells in the wilderness as well as in the walled city, and worship to Him is as pleasing under the shadow of the forest leaves, as with sounding organ beneath the vaulted dome of the grand cathedral. During week-days, while the others were abroad, Doña Isidora and thelittle Leona were not idle at home; yet their whole time was not takenup by the mere concerns of the _cuisine_. They had an industry of theirown, and, in fact, one that promised to be almost as profitable in itsresults as the bark-gathering. This was neither more nor less thanpreparing _vanilla_. Some days after arriving in the valley, while exploring a wood that layat the back of the cultivated ground, Don Pablo discovered that everytree carried a creeper or parasite of a peculiar kind. It was a smallcreeper not unlike ivy, and was covered with flowers of agreenish-yellow colour, mixed with white. Don Pablo at once recognisedin this parasitical plant one of the many species of lianas that producethe delicious and perfumed vanilla. It was, in fact, the finest of thekind--that which, among the French, is called _leq_ vanilla; and, fromthe fact that every tree had a number of these parasites, and no otherclimbing vines, Don Pablo came to the conclusion that they had beenplanted by the missionaries. It is thus that vanilla is usuallycultivated, by being set in slips at the root of some tree which mayafterwards sustain it. In the course of the summer, these vanilla vines exhibited a differentappearance. Instead of flowers, long bean-like capsules made theirappearance. These capsules or pods were nearly a foot in length, thoughnot much thicker than a swan's quill. They were a little flattish, wrinkled, and of a yellow colour, and contained inside, instead ofbeans, a pulpy substance, surrounding a vast quantity of small seeds, like grains of sand. These seeds are the perfumed vanilla so muchprized, and which often yield the enormous price of fifty dollars apound! To preserve these, therefore, was the work of Doña Isidora andLeona; and they understood perfectly how to do it. First, they gathered the pods before they were quite ripe. These theystrung upon a thread, taking care to pass the thread through that endnearest the footstalk. The whole were next plunged for an instant intoboiling water, which gave them a blanched appearance. The thread wasthen stretched from tree to tree, and the pods, hanging like a string ofcandles, were then exposed to the sun for several hours. Next day, theywere lightly smeared with an oiled feather, and then wrapped in oiledcotton of the _Bombax ceiba_, to prevent the valves from opening. When they had remained in this state for a few days, the string wastaken out, and passed through the other ends, so that they should hangin an inverted position. This was to permit the discharge of a viscidliquid from the footstalk end; and in order to assist this discharge, the pods were several times lightly pressed between the fingers. Theynow became dry and wrinkled. They had also shrunk to less than halftheir original size, and changed their colour to a reddish-brown. Another delicate touch of the oil-feather, and the vanilla was ready forthe market. Nothing remained but to pack them in small cases, which hadalready been prepared from the leaf of a species of palm-tree. In such a way did the lady Isidora and her daughter pass their time; andbefore the summer was out they had added largely to the stock of wealthof our exiles. Although these two always remained by the house, they were not without_their_ adventures as well, one of which I shall describe. It occurredwhile they were getting in their crop of vanilla. Leona was in the porchin front, busy among the vanilla-beans. She had a large needle and athread of palm-leaf fibre, with which she was stringing the long pods, while her mother was inside the house packing some that had been alreadydried. Leona rested for a moment, and was looking over the water, when, all atonce, she exclaimed, "Maman--Maman! come out and see! oh! what a beautiful cat!" The exclamation caused Doña Isidora to start, and with a feeling ofuneasiness. The cause of her uneasiness was the word "cat. " She fearedthat what the innocent child had taken for a "beautiful cat" might proveto be the dreaded jaguar. She ran at once out of the door, and looked inthe direction pointed out by Leona. There, sure enough, on the otherside of the water, was a spotted creature, looking in the distance, verymuch like a cat; but Doña Isidora saw at a glance that it was a farlarger animal. Was it the jaguar? It was like one, in its colour and markings. It wasof a yellowish colour, and covered all over with black spots, which gaveit the semblance of the jaguar. Still Doña Isidora thought that it wasnot so large as these animals usually are; and this, to some extent, restored her confidence. When first seen, it was close down to thewater's edge, as if it had come there to drink; and Doña Isidora was inhopes that, after satisfying its thirst, it would go away again. Whatwas her consternation to see it make a forward spring, and, plunginginto the water, swim directly for the house! Terrified, she seized Leona by the hand, and retreated inside. She shutthe door, and bolted it. If it were a jaguar, what protection would thatbe? Such a creature could dash itself through the frail bamboo wall, ortear the door to pieces with his great claws in a moment. "If it be ajaguar, " thought she, "we are lost!" Doña Isidora was a woman of courage. She was determined to defend thelives of herself and daughter to the last. She looked around the housefor a weapon. The pistols of Don Pablo were hanging against the wall. She knew they were loaded. She took them down, and looked to the flintsand priming, and then stationed herself at a place where she could seeout through the interstices of the bamboos. The little Leona kept by herside, though she knew, that in a struggle with a ferocious jaguar, shecould give no help. By this time the animal had crossed the river, and she could see itspring out on the bank, and come on towards the house. In a few secondsit was close to the porch, where it halted to reconnoitre. Doña Isidorasaw it very plainly, and would now have had a very good chance to fireat it; but she did not wish to begin the combat. Perhaps it might goaway again, without attempting to enter the house. In order not to drawits attention, she stood perfectly quiet, having cautioned Leona to dothe same. It was not a large animal, though its aspect was fierce enough toterrify any one. Its tiger-like eyes, and white teeth, which it showedat intervals, were anything but pleasant to look upon. Its size, however, was not so formidable; and Doña Isidora had understood thejaguar to be a large animal; but there is also a smaller species ofjaguar. This might be the one. After halting a moment, the creature turned to one side, and thenproceeded at a skulking trot around the house. Now and then it stoppedand looked toward the building, as if searching for some aperture bywhich it might get in. Doña Isidora followed it round on the inside. Thewalls were so open that she could mark all its movements; and, with apistol in each hand, she was ready for the attack, determined to firethe moment it might threaten to spring against the bamboos. On one side of the house, at a few paces distance, stood the mule. Thehorse had been taken to the woods, and the mule was left alone. Thisanimal was tied to a tree, which shaded her from the sun. As soon as thefierce creature got well round the house, it came in full view of themule, which now claimed its attention. The latter, on seeing it, hadstarted, and sprung round upon her halter, as if badly terrified by theapparition. Whether the beast of prey had ever before seen a mule was a question. Most likely it had not; for, half-innocently, and half as if with theintention of making an attack, it went skulking up until it was close tothe heels of the latter. It could not have placed itself in a betterposition to be well kicked; and well kicked it was, for, just at thatmoment, the mule let fling with both her heels, and struck it upon theribs. A loud "thump" was heard by those within the house, and DoñaIsidora, still watching through the canes, had the satisfaction to seethe spotted creature take to its heels, and gallop off as if a kettlehad been tied to its tail! It made no stop, not even to look back; buthaving reached the edge of the water, plunged in, and swam over to theopposite shore. They could see it climb out on the other side, and then, with a cowed and conquered look, it trotted off, and disappeared amongthe palm-trees. Doña Isidora knew that it was gone for good; and having now no furtherfear went on with her work as before. She first, however, carried out alarge measure of the _murumuru_ nuts, and gave them to the mule, pattingthe creature upon the nose, and thanking her for the important serviceshe had rendered. When Don Pablo and the rest returned, the adventure was, of course, related; but from the description given of the animal, neither Don Pablonor Guapo believed it could have been the jaguar. It was too small forthat. Besides a jaguar would not have been cowed and driven off by amule. He would more likely have killed the mule, and dragged its bodyoff with him across the river, or perhaps have broken into the house, and done worse. The animal was, no doubt, the "ocelot, " which is also spotted, or rathermarked with the eye-like rosettes which distinguish the skin of thejaguar. Indeed, there are quite a number of animals of the cat genus inthe forests of the Montaña; some spotted like the leopard, othersstriped as the tiger, and still others of uniform colour all over thebody. They are, of course, all preying animals, but none of them willattack man, except the jaguar and the puma. Some of the others, whenbrought to bay, will fight desperately, as would the common wild catunder like circumstances; but the largest of them will leave man alone, if unmolested themselves. Not so with the jaguar, who will attack eitherman or beast, and put them to death, unless he be himself overpowered. The jaguar, or, as he is sometimes called, "ounce, " and by mostSpanish-Americans "tiger, " is the largest and most ferocious of all theAmerican _Felidĉ_. He stands third in rank as to these qualities--thelion and tiger of the Eastern continent taking precedence of him. Specimens of the jaguar have been seen equal in size to the Asiatictiger; but the average size of the American animal is much less. He isstrong enough, however, to drag a dead horse or ox to his den--often toa distance of a quarter of a mile--and this feat has been repeatedlyobserved. The jaguar is found throughout all the tropical countries of SpanishAmerica, and is oftener called tiger than jaguar. This is a misappliedname; for although he bears a considerable likeness to the tiger, bothin shape and habits, yet the markings of his skin are quite different. The tiger is striated or striped, while the black on the jaguar is inbeautiful eye-like rosettes. The leopard is more like the jaguar thanany other creature; and the panther and cheetah of the Eastern continentalso resemble him. The markings of the jaguar, when closely examined, differ from all of these. The spots on the animals of the old world aresimple spots or black rings, while those of the American species arerings with a single spot in the middle, forming _ocellĉ_, or eyes. Each, in fact, resembles a rosette. Jaguars are not always of the same colour. Some have skins of an orangeyellow, and these are the most beautiful. Others are lighter-coloured;and individuals have been killed that were nearly white. But there is a"black jaguar, " which is thought to be of a different species. It islarger and fiercer than the other, and is found in the very hottestparts of the Great Montaña. Its skin is not quite jet-black, but of adeep maroon brown; and upon close inspection, the spots upon it can beseen of a pure black. This species is more dreaded by the inhabitants ofthose countries than the other; and it is said always to attack manwherever it may encounter him. In the forests of South America, the jaguar reigns with undisputed sway. All the other beasts fear, and fly from him. His roar produces terrorand confusion among the animated creation, and causes them to fly inevery direction. It is never heard by the Indian without some feeling offear, --and no wonder; for a year does not pass without a number of thesepeople falling victims to the savage ferocity of this animal. There are those, however, among them who can deal single-handed with thejaguar, --regular "jaguar-hunters" by profession, --who do not fear toattack the fierce brute in his own haunts. They do not trust tofire-arms, but to a sharp spear. Upon this they receive his attack, transfixing the animal with unerring aim as he advances. Should theyfail in their first thrust, their situation is one of peril; yet allhope is not lost. On their left arm they carry a sort of sheep-skinshield. This is held forward, and usually seized by the jaguar; andwhile he is busy with it, the hunter gains time for a second effort, which rarely fails to accomplish his purpose. The jaguars are killed for many reasons. Their beautiful skins sell forseveral dollars; besides, in many places a price is set upon theirheads, on account of their destructive habits. Thousands are destroyedevery year. For all this, they do not seem to diminish in numbers. Theintroduction of the large mammalia into America has provided them withincreased resources; and in many places, where there are herds ofhalf-wild cattle, the number of the jaguars is said to be greater thanformerly. It is difficult for one, living in a country where such fierceanimals are unknown, to believe that they may have an influence over manto such an extent as to prevent his settling in a particular place; yetsuch is the fact. In many parts of South America, not only plantations, but whole villages, have been abandoned solely from fear of the jaguars! CHAPTER XXXI. A FAMILY OF JAGUARS. As yet none of the exiles had seen any tracks or indications of theterrible jaguar, and Don Pablo began to believe that there were none inthat district of country. He was not allowed to remain much longer inthis belief, for an incident occurred shortly after proving that atleast one pair of these fierce animals was not far off. It was near the end of the summer, and the cinchona-trees on the side ofthe river on which stood the house had been all cut down and "barked. "It became necessary, therefore, to cross the stream in search of others. Indeed, numerous "manchas" had been seen on the other side, and to thesethe "cascarilleros" now turned their attention. They, of course, reached them by crossing the tree-bridge, and then keeping up the streamon the farther side. For several days they had been at work in this new direction, and weregetting bark in by the hundred-weight. One day Guapo and Leon had gone by themselves--Guapo to fell the treesas usual, and Leon who was now an expert bark-peeler, to use thescalping-knife. Don Pablo had remained at home, busy with work in thegreat magazine, for there was much to do there in the packing andstoring. An hour or two after, Guapo was seen to return alone. He had broken thehandle of his axe, and having, several spare ones at the house, he hadreturned to get one. Leon had remained in the woods. Now Leon had finished his operations on such trees as Guapo had alreadycut down, and not finding a good seat near, had walked towards theprecipice which was farther up the hill, and sat down upon one of theloose rocks at its base. Here he amused himself by watching the parrotsand toucans that were fluttering through the trees over his head. He noticed that just by his side there was a large hole or cave in thecliff. He could see to the further end of it from where he sat, butcuriosity prompted him to step up to its mouth, and gave it a closerexamination. On doing so, he heard a noise, not unlike the mew of a cat. It evidently came from the cave, and only increased his curiosity tolook inside. He put his head to the entrance, and there, in a sort ofnest, upon the bottom of the cave, he perceived two creatures, exactlylike two spotted kittens, only larger. They were about half as big asfull-grown cats. "Two beauties!" said Leon to himself; "they are the kittens of some wildcat--that's plain. Now we want a cat very much at home. If these werebrought up in the house, why shouldn't they do? I'll warrant they'd betame enough. I know mamma wants a cat. I've heard her say so. I'll giveher an agreeable surprise by taking this pair home. --The beauties!" Without another word Leon climbed up, and taking hold of the two spottedanimals, returned with them out of the cave. They were evidently veryyoung creatures, yet for all that they growled, and spat, and attemptedto scratch his hands; but Leon was not a boy to be frightened attrifles, and after getting one under each arm, he set off in triumph, intending to carry them direct to the house. Guapo was in front of the house busy in new-hafting his axe. Don Pablowas at his work in the store-room. Doña Isidora and the little Leonawere occupied with some affair in the porch. All were engaged one way orother. Just then a voice sounded upon their ears, causing them all tostop their work, and look abroad. It even brought Don Pablo out of thestorehouse. It was the voice of Leon, who shouted from the other side ofthe lake, where they all saw him standing, with a strange object undereach arm. "Hola!" cried he. "Look, mamma! See what I've got! I've brought you acouple of cats--beauties, ain't they?" And as he said this, he held thetwo yellow bodies out before him. Don Pablo turned pale, and even the coppery cheek of Guapo blanched atthe sight. Though at some distance, both knew at a glance what theywere. Cats, indeed! _They were the cubs of the jaguar!_ "My God!" cried Don Pablo, hoarse with affright. "My God! the boy willbe lost!" and as he spoke he swept the upper edge of the lake with ananxious glance. "Run, little master!" shouted Guapo. "Run for your life; make for thebridge--for the bridge!" Leon seemed astonished. He knew by the words of Guapo, and the earnestgestures of the rest, that there was some danger:--but of what? Why washe to run? He could not comprehend it. He hesitated, and might havestayed longer on the spot, had not his father, seeing his indecision, shouted out to him in a loud voice-- "Run, boy! run! The jaguars are after you!" This speech enabled Leon to comprehend his situation for the first time, and he immediately started off towards the bridge, running as fast as hewas able. Don Pablo had not seen the jaguars when he spoke, but his words wereprophetic, and that prophecy was speedily verified. They had hardly beenuttered when two yellow bodies, dashing out of the brushwood, appearednear the upper end of the lake. There was no mistaking what they were. Their orange flanks and ocellated sides were sufficientlycharacteristic. _They were jaguars!_ A few springs brought them to the edge of the water, and they were seento take the track over which Leon had just passed. They were followingby the scent--sometimes pausing--sometimes one passing the other--andtheir waving tails and quick energetic movements showed that they werefurious and excited to the highest degree. Now they disappeared behindthe palm-trunks, and the next moment their shining bodies shot out againlike flashes of light. Doña Isidora and the little Leona screamed with affright. Don Pabloshouted words of encouragement in a hoarse voice. Guapo seized hisaxe--which fortunately he had finished hafting--and ran towards thebridge, along the water's edge. Don Pablo followed with his pistols, which he had hastily got his hands upon. For a short moment there was silence on both sides of the river. Guapowas opposite Leon, both running. The stream narrowed as it approachedthe ravine, and Leon and Guapo could see each other, and hear every worddistinctly. Guapo now cried out, -- "Drop one! young master--_only one_!" Leon heard, and, being a sharp boy, understood what was meant. Up tothis moment he had not thought of parting with his "cats"--in fact, itwas because he had _not_ thought of it. Now, however, at the voice ofGuapo, he flung one of them to the ground, without stopping to see whereit fell. He ran on, and in a few seconds again heard Guapo cry out-- "_Now the other!_" Leon let the second slip from his grasp, and kept on for the bridge. It was well he had dropped the cubs, else he would never have reachedthat bridge. When the first one fell the jaguars were not twenty pacesbehind him. They were almost in sight, but by good fortune the weeds andunderwood hid the pursued from the pursuers. On reaching their young, the first that had been dropped, both stopped, and appeared to lick and caress it. They remained by it but a moment. One parted sooner than the other--the female it was, no doubt, in searchof her second offspring. Shortly after the other started also, and bothwere again seen springing along the trail in pursuit. A few stretchesbrought them to where the second cub lay, and here they again halted, caressing this one as they had done the other. Don Pablo and Doña Isidora, who saw all this from the other side, werein hopes that having recovered their young, the jaguars might give overtheir chase, and carry them off. But they were mistaken in this. TheAmerican tiger is of a very different nature. Once enraged, he will seekrevenge with relentless pertinacity. It so proved. After delaying amoment with the second cub. Both left it, and sprang forward upon thetrail, which they knew had been taken by whoever had robbed them. By this time Leon had gained the bridge--had crossed it--and was liftedfrom its nearer end by Guapo. The latter scarce spoke a word--onlytelling Leon to hurry towards the house. For himself he had other workto do than run. The bridge he knew would be no protection. The jaguarswould cross over it like squirrels, and then---- Guapo reflected no further, but bending over the thick branch, attackedit with his axe. His design was apparent at once. He was going to cut itfrom the cliff! He plied the axe with all his might. Every muscle in his body was atplay. Blow succeeded blow. The branch was already creaking, when, to hishorror, the foremost of the jaguars appeared in sight on the oppositeside! He was not discouraged. Again fell the axe--again and again; thejaguar is upon the bank; it has sprung upon the root of the tree! Itpauses a moment--another blow of the axe--the jaguar bounds upon thetrunk--its claws rattle along the bark--it is midway over the chasm!Another blow--the branch crackles--there is a crash--it parts from thecliff--it is gone! Both tree and jaguar gone--down--down to the sharprocks of the foaming torrent! A loud yell from the Indian announced his triumph. But it was not yetcomplete. It was the female jaguar--the smaller one that had fallen. Themale still remained--where was he? Already upon the opposite brink ofthe chasm! He had dashed forward, just in time to see his mate disappearing intothe gulf below. He saw, and seemed to comprehend all that had passed. His eyes glared with redoubled fury. There was vengeance in his look, and determination in his attitude. For a moment he surveyed the wide gulf that separated him from hisenemies. He seemed to measure the distance at a glance. His heart wasbold with rage and despair. He had lost his companion--his faithfulpartner--his wife. Life was nothing now--he resolved upon revenge ordeath! He was seen to run a few paces back from the edge of the chasm, and thenturning suddenly, set his body for the spring. It would have been beautiful to have beheld the play of his glisteningflanks at that moment had one been out of danger; but Guapo was not, andhe had no pleasure in the sight. Guapo stood upon the opposite brink, axe in hand, ready to receive him. The Indian had not long to wait. With one desperate bound the jaguarlaunched his body into the air, and, like lightning, passed to theopposite bank. His fore-feet only reached it, and his claws firmlygrasped the rock. The rest of his body hung over, clutching the cliff! In a moment he would have sprung up, and then woe to his antagonist! buthe was not allowed that moment, for he had scarcely touched the rockwhen the Indian leaped forward and struck at his head with the axe. Theblow was not well aimed, and although it stunned the jaguar, he stillclung to the cliff. In setting himself for a second blow, Guapo came toonear, and the next moment the great claws of the tiger were buried inhis foot! It is difficult to tell what might have been the result. It would, nodoubt, have been different. Guapo would have been dragged over, and thatwas certain death; but at this moment a hand was protruded betweenGuapo's legs--the muzzle of a pistol was seen close to the head of thejaguar--a loud crack rang through the ravine, and when the smoke clearedaway the jaguar was seen no more! Guapo, with his foot badly lacerated, was drawn back from the cliff intothe arms of Don Pablo. CHAPTER XXXII. THE RAFT. This was the most exciting day that had been passed since their arrivalin the Montaña; and considering the result it was well that theoccurrence had taken place. It had rid them of a pair of badneighbours--there would soon have been four--that some time or otherwould have endangered the lives of some of the party. It was the opinionof Guapo that they need not, at least for a while, have any fear ofjaguars. It was not likely there was another pair in that district;although, from the roaming disposition of this animal, fresh ones mightsoon make their appearance; and it was deemed best always to act asthough some were already in the neighbourhood. The cubs were disposed of. It was not deemed advisable to bring them upas "cats. " After what had occurred that was voted, even by Leon, adangerous experiment--too dangerous to be attempted. They were still onthe other side of the river, and the bridge was now gone. If left tothemselves, no doubt they would have perished, as they were very youngthings. Perhaps some carnivorous creature--wolf, coati, eagle, orvulture--would have devoured them, or they might have been eaten up bythe ants. But this was not to be their fate. Guapo swam across, andstrangled them. Then tying them together, he suspended the pair over hisshoulders, and brought them with him to be exhibited as a curiosity. Moreover Guapo had a design upon their skins. It was not long after that a pleasanter pet than either of them wasfound, and this was a beautiful little saïmiri monkey, about the size ofa squirrel, which Guapo and Leon captured one day in the woods. Theyheard a noise as they were passing along, and going up to the spot, sawon the branch of a low tree nearly a dozen little monkeys all rolled uptogether in a heap with their tails wrapped round each other as if tokeep themselves warm. Nearly another dozen were running about, whining and apparently tryingto get in among the rest. Guapo and Leon made a sudden rush upon them, and were able to capture three or four before the creatures could freethemselves; but only one lived, and that became a great pet andfavourite. It was a beautiful little creature--a true saïmiri, orsquirrel-monkey, called the "titi. " Its silky fur was of a richolive-green colour; and its fine large eyes expressed fear or joy--nowfilling with tears, and now brightening again--just like those of achild. During the summer our bark-gatherers continued their labour withoutinterruption, and on account of the great plenty of the cinchona-trees, and their proximity to the house, they were enabled to accumulate a verylarge store. They worked like bees. Although this forest life was not without its pleasures and excitements, yet it began to grow very irksome both to Don Pablo and Doña Isidora. Life in the wilderness, with its rude cares and rude enjoyments, may bevery pleasant for a while to those who seek it as amateurs, or to thatclass who as colonists intend to make it a permanent thing. But neitherDon Pablo nor his wife had ever thought of colonisation. With them theirpresent industry was the result of accident and necessity. Their tastesand longings were very different. They longed to return to civilisedlife; and though the very misfortune which had driven them forth intothe wilderness had also guided them to an opportunity of making afortune, it is probable they would have passed it by, had they not knownthat, penniless as they were, they would have fared still worse in anycity to which they might have gone. But before the first year was out, they yearned very much to return tocivilisation, and this desire was very natural. But there were otherreasons that influenced them besides the mere _ennui_ of the wilderness. The lives of themselves and their children were constantly in dangerfrom jaguars, pumas, and poisonous reptiles. Even man himself might atany moment appear as their destroyer. As yet no Indian--not even a traceof one--had been seen. But this was not strange. In the tangled and impenetrable forests of the Great Montaña two tribesof Indians may reside for years within less than a league's distance ofeach other, without either being aware of the other's existence!Scarcely any intercourse is carried on, or excursions made, except bythe rivers--for they are the only roads--and where two of these runparallel, although they may be only at a short distance from each other, people residing on one may never think of crossing to the other. Notwithstanding that no Indians had yet appeared to disturb them, therewas no certainty that these might not arrive any day, and treat them asenemies. On this account, Don Pablo and Doña Isidora were never withouta feeling of uneasiness. After mutual deliberation, therefore, they resolved not to prolong theirstay beyond the early part of spring, when they would carry out theiroriginal design of building a _balza_ raft, and commit themselves to thegreat river, which, according to all appearance, and to Guapo'sconfident belief, flowed directly to the Amazon. Guapo had never eitherdescended or ascended it himself, and on their first arrival was not sosure about its course; but after having gone down to its banks, andexamined its waters, his recollections revived, and he remembered manyaccounts which he had heard of it from Indians of his own tribe. He hadno doubt but it was the same which, under the name of the "Purus, "falls into the Amazon between the mouths of the Madeira and the Coary. Upon this stream, therefore, in a few months they would embark. Butthese intervening months were not spent in idleness. Although the seasonfor bark-gathering was past, another source of industry presenteditself. The bottom lands of the great river were found to be coveredwith a network of underwood, and among this underwood the principalplant was a well-known briar, _Smilax officinalis_. This is the creepingplant that yields the celebrated "sarsaparilla;" and Don Pablo, havingmade an analysis of some roots, discovered it to be the most valuablespecies--for it is to be remembered, that, like the cinchona, a wholegenus, or rather several genera, furnish the article of commerce. The briar which produces the sarsaparilla is a tall creeping plant, which throws out a large number of long wrinkled roots of a uniformthickness, and about the size of a goose-quill. Nothing is requiredfurther than digging and dragging these roots out of the ground, dryingthem a while, and then binding them in bundles with a small "sipo, " ortough forest creeper. These bundles are made up, so as to render theroots convenient for packing and transport. During several months this branch of industry occupied Don Pablo, Guapo, and Leon; so that when the time drew nigh for their departure, what withthe cinchona-bark, the sarsaparilla, and the vanilla-beans, there wasnot an empty inch in the large storehouse. Guapo had not been all the time with them. For several days Gruapo wasnot to be seen at the house, nor anywhere around it. Where had Guapobeen all this time? I will tell you; Guapo _had been to the mountains_! Yes, Don Pablo had sent him on an important mission, which he hadperformed with secrecy and despatch. Don Pablo, before braving thedangers of the vast journey he had projected, had still a lingering hopethat something might have happened--some change in the government ofPeru--perhaps a new Viceroy--that might enable him to return with safetyto his native land. To ascertain if such had taken place, Guapo had madehis journey to the mountains. He went no farther than the Puna--no farther than the hut of his friendthe vaquero--who, by a previous understanding with Guapo, had kepthimself informed about political matters. There was no hope; the same Council, the same Viceroy, the same priceupon the head of Don Pablo--who, however, was believed to have escapedin an American ship, and to have taken refuge in the great Republic ofthe North. With this news Guapo returned, and now the preparations for the rivervoyage were set about in earnest. A balza raft was built out of largetrunks of the _Bombax ceiba_, which, being light wood, was the best forthe purpose. Of course these trunks had been cut long ago with a view tousing them in this way. A commodious cabin, or "toldo, " was constructedon the raft, built of palm and bamboos, and thatched with the broadleaves of the bussu. A light canoe was also hollowed out, as a sort oftender to the raft, and a couple of very large canoes for the purpose ofgiving buoyancy to it, were lashed one upon each side. The "merchandise"was carefully "stowed" and covered with "tarpaulins" of palm-leaves, andthe stores laid in with every providential care and calculation. You will be wondering what was done with the horse and mule, --thosecreatures who had served the exiles so faithfully and so well? Were theyleft behind to become a prey to the jaguars and the large blood-suckingbats, that kill so many animals in these parts? No--they were not to beleft to such a fate. One of them--the mule--had been already disposedof. It was a valuable beast, and partly on that account, and partly fromgratitude felt towards it for the well-timed kick it had given theocelot, it was to be spared. Guapo had taken both the mule and the horseon his mountain journey, and presented the former to his friend thevaquero. But the horse was still on hand. What was to be done with him? Leave himbehind? That would be certain death, for no horse, that was not caredfor, could exist in the Montaña ten days without being eaten up by thefierce creatures that inhabit it. The bats would surely have destroyedhim. Well, what was done? He could not be carried on the raft. But hewas, though, --_in a way. _ Guapo was resolved that the bats should not have him, nor the jaguarsneither. He was in fine condition--fat as a pig. The fruit of themurumuru had agreed with him. He was just in the condition in which anIndian thinks a horse "good for killing, " and _Guapo killed him_! Yes, Guapo killed him! It is true it was a sort of a Virginius tragedy, andGuapo had great difficulty in nerving himself for the task. But theblow-gun was at length levelled, and the _curare_ did its work. ThenGuapo skinned him, and cut him into strips, and dried him into"charqui, " and carried him on board the raft. That was the closingscene. All left the house together, carrying with them the remains of theirhastily-created _penates_. On reaching the end of the valley, theyturned and threw back a last glance at a home that had to them been ahappy one; and then, continuing their journey, they were soon upon thebalza. The only living creature that accompanied them from their valleyhome was the pretty saïmiri, carried on the shoulder of the littleLeona. The cable of piassaba-palm was carefully taken in and coiled, the raftwas pushed out, and the next moment floated lightly upon the broad bosomof the river. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE GUARDIAN BROTHER. The current of the river flowed at the rate of about four miles an hour, and at this speed they travelled. They had nothing to do but guide theraft in the middle part of the stream. This was effected by means of alarge stern-oar fixed upon a pivot, and which served the purpose of arudder. One was required to look after this oar, and Don Pablo and Guapotook turns at it. It was not a very troublesome task, except where somebend had to be got round, or some eddy was to be cleared, when both hadto work at it together. At other times the balza floated straight on, without requiring the least effort on the part of the crew; and thenthey would all sit down and chat pleasantly, and view the changingscenery of the forest-covered shores. Sometimes tall palms lined the banks, and sometimes great forest treesnetted together by thick parasites that crept from one to the other, and twined around the trunks like monster serpents. Sometimes the shoreswere one unbroken thicket of underwood, where it would have been almostimpossible to make a landing had they wished it. At other places therewere sand-bars, and even little islets with scarce any vegetation uponthem; and they also passed many other islets and large islands thicklywooded. The country generally appeared to be flat, though at one or twoplaces they saw hills that ran in to the banks of the river. Of course the change of scenery, and the many fresh vistas continuallyopening before them, rendered their voyage both cheerful andinteresting. The many beautiful birds too, and new kinds of trees andanimals which they saw, were a constant source of varied enjoyment, andfurnished them with themes of conversation. During the first day they made a journey of full forty miles. Havingbrought their balza close to the shore, and secured it to a tree, theyencamped for the night. There was no opening of any extent, but for somedistance the ground was clear of underwood, and the trunks of great oldtrees rose like columns losing themselves amidst the thick foliageoverhead. A dark forest only could be seen, and, as night drew on, thehorrid cries of the alouattes, or howling monkeys, mingling with thevoices of other nocturnal animals, filled the woods. They had no fear ofmonkeys, but now and then they thought they could distinguish the cry ofthe jaguar, and of him they had fear enough. Indeed the jaguar possessesthe power of imitating the cry of the other animals of the forest, andoften uses it to draw them within reach of him. In addition to the fire upon which they had cooked their supper, as soonas night had fairly set in, they kindled others, forming a sort ofsemicircle, the chord of which was the bank of the river itself. Withinthis semicircle the hammocks were stretched from tree to tree; and, asall were fatigued with the day's exertions, they climbed into them at anearly hour, and were soon asleep. One alone sat up to keep watch. Asthey thought they had heard the jaguar, this was deemed best; for theyknew that fire will not always frighten off that fierce animal. As theneighbourhood looked suspicious, and also as it was their firstencampment, they, like all travellers at setting out, of course weremore timid and cautious. To Leon was assigned the first watch; for Leon was a courageous boy, andit was not the first time he had taken his turn in this way. He was tosit up for about two hours, and then wake Guapo, who would keep themidnight watch; after which Don Pablo's turn would come, and that wouldterminate in the morning at daybreak. Leon was instructed to rouse theothers in case any danger might threaten the camp. Leon from choice had seated himself by the head of the hammock in whichslept the little Leona; in order, no doubt, to be nearer her, as she wasthe most helpless of the party, and therefore required more immediateprotection. He had both the pistols by him--ready to his hand andloaded--and in case of danger he knew very well how to use them. He had been seated for about half-an-hour, now casting his eyes up tothe red and wrinkled trunks of the trees, and then gazing into the darkvistas of the surrounding forest, or at other times looking out upon theglistening surface of the river. Many a strange sound fell upon hisear. Sometimes the whole forest appeared to be alive with voices--thevoices of beasts and birds, reptiles, and insects--for the tree-frogsand ciendas were as noisy as the larger creatures. At other times aperfect stillness reigned, so that he could distinctly hear the tiny humof the mosquito; and then, all at once, would fall upon his ear themelancholy wailing of the night-hawk--the "_alma perdida_, " or "lostsoul"--for such is the poetical and fanciful name given by the SpanishAmericans to this nocturnal bird. While thus engaged Leon began to feel very drowsy. The heavy day's work, in which he had borne part, had fatigued him as well as the others; and, in spite of the odd voices that from time to time fell upon his ear, hecould have lain down upon the bare ground and slept without a feeling offear. Snakes or scorpions, or biting lizards or spiders, would not havekept him from going to sleep at that moment. It is astonishing how thedesire of sleep makes one indifferent to all these things, which atother times we so much dread. Leon did not fear them a bit, but kepthimself awake from a feeling of pride and honour. He reflected that itwould never do to be unfaithful to the important trust confided to him. No; that would never do. He rubbed his eyes, and rose up, and approachedthe bank, and dipped his hands in the water, and came back to his formerplace, and sat down again. Spite of all his efforts, however, he feltvery heavy. Oh! when would the two hours pass that he might rouse Guapo? "Car-r-ambo! I nev-er was so s-s-sleepy. _Vamos_! Leon! you mustn't givein!" And striking himself a lively slap on the chest, he straightened hisback, and sat upright for a while. He was just beginning to get bowed about the shoulders again, and to noda little, when he was startled by a short sharp exclamation uttered bythe little Leona. He looked up to her hammock. He could perceive it hadmoved slightly, but it was at rest again, and its occupant was evidentlyasleep. "Poor little sis! she is dreaming, " he muttered half aloud. "Perhapssome horrid dream of jaguars or serpents. I have half a mind to awakeher. But, no, she sleeps too soundly; I might disturb them all;" andwith these reflections Leon remained upon his seat. Once more his head was beginning to bob, when the voice of Leona againstartled him, and he looked up as before. The hammock moved slightly, but there was no appearance of anything wrong. From where he sat hecould not see well into it, but the outlines of the child's body wereeasily discernible through the elastic netting; and at the farther endhe could just perceive one of her little feet, where it had escaped fromthe covering, and rested partly over the edge. As he continued to gaze upon the delicate member, thinking whether hehad not better cover it against the mosquitoes, all at once his eye wasattracted by something red--a crooked red line that traversed from thetoe downward along the side of the foot. It was red and glittering--itwas _a stream of blood_! His first feeling was one of horror. His next was a resolve to spring tohis feet and rouse the camp, but this impulse was checked by one ofgreater prudence. Whatever enemy had done it, thought he, must still beabout the hammock; to make a noise would, perhaps, only irritate it, andcause it to inflict some still more terrible wound. He would remainquiet, until he had got his eyes upon the creature, when he could springupon it, or fire his pistol before it could do further harm. With these ideas, quickly conceived, he rose silently to his feet, andstanding, or rather crouching forward, bent his eyes over the hammock. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE VAMPIRE. Leon's head was close to that of the sleeper, whose sweet breath hefelt, and whose little bosom rose and fell in gentle undulation. Hescanned the inside of the hammock from head to foot. He gazed anxiouslyinto every fold of the cover. Not an object could he see that should nothave been there--no terrible creature--no serpent--for it was this lastthat was in his mind. But something must have been there. What couldhave caused the stream of blood, that now being closer he could moreplainly see trickling over the soft blue veins? Some creature must havedone it! "Oh! if it be the small viper, " thought he, "or the coral snake, or thedeadly macaurel! If these----". His thoughts at this moment were interrupted. A light flapping of wingssounded in his ear--so light, that it appeared to be made by the softpinions of the owl, or some nocturnal bird. It was not by the wings of abird that that sound was produced, but by the wings of a hideouscreature. Leon was conscious, from the continued flapping, thatsomething was playing through the air, and that it occasionallyapproached close to his head. He gazed upward and around him, and atlength he could distinguish a dark form passing between him and thelight; but it glided into the darkness again, and he could see it nomore. Was it a bird? It looked like one--it might have been an owl--it wasfull as large as one; but yet, from the glance he had had of it, itappeared to be black or very dark, and he had never heard of owls ofthat colour. Moreover, it had not the look nor flight of an owl. Was ita bird at all? or whatever it was, was it the cause of the blood? Thisdid not appear likely to Leon, who still had his thoughts bent upon thesnakes. While he was revolving these questions in his mind, he again turned andlooked toward the foot of the hammock. The sight caused him a thrill ofhorror. There was the hideous creature, which, he had just seen, rightover the bleeding foot. It was not perched, but suspended in the air onits moving wings, with its long snout protruded forward and pressedagainst the toe of the sleeper! Its sharp white teeth were visible inboth jaws, and its small vicious eyes glistened under the light of thefires. The red hair covering its body and large membranous wings addedto the hideousness of its aspect, and a more hideous creature could nothave been conceived. _It was the vampire_, --the blood-sucking_phyllostoma_! A short cry escaped from the lips of Leon. It was not a cry of pain, butthe contrary. The sight of the great bat, hideous as the creature was, relieved him. He had all along been under the painful impression thatsome venomous serpent had caused the blood to flow, and now he had nofurther fear on that score. He knew that there was no poison in thewound inflicted by the phyllostoma--only the loss of a little blood; andthis quieted his anxieties at once. He resolved, however, to punish theintruder; and not caring to rouse the camp by firing, he stole a littlecloser, and aimed a blow with the butt of his pistol. [Illustration: THE VAMPIRE BAT. ] The blow was well aimed, and brought the bat to the ground, but itsshrill screeching awoke everybody, and in a few moments the camp was incomplete confusion. The sight of the blood on the foot of the littleLeona quite terrified Doña Isidora and the rest; but when the cause wasexplained, all felt reassured and thankful that the thing was no worse. The little foot was bound up in a rag; and although, for two or threedays after, it was not without pain, yet no bad effects came of it. The "blood-sucking" bats do not cause death either to man, or any otheranimal, by a single attack. All the blood they can draw out amounts toonly a few ounces, although after their departure, the blood continuesto run from the open wound. It is by repeating their attacks night afternight that the strength of an animal becomes exhausted, and it dies fromsheer loss of blood and consequent faintness. With animals this is farfrom being a rare occurrence. Hundreds of horses and cattle are killedevery year in the South American pastures. These creatures suffer, perhaps, without knowing from what cause, for the phyllostoma performsits cupping operation without causing the least pain--at all events thesleeper is very rarely awakened by it. It is easy to understand how it sucks the blood of its victim, for itssnout and the leafy appendage around its mouth--from whence it derivesthe name "phyllostoma"--are admirably adapted to that end. But how doesit make the puncture to "let" the blood? That is as yet a mystery amongnaturalists, as it also is among the people who are habitually itsvictims. Even Guapo could not explain the process. The large teeth--ofwhich it has got quite a mouthful--seem altogether unfitted to make ahole such as is found where the "phyllostoma" has been at work. Theirbite, moreover, would awake the soundest sleeper. Besides these, it has neither fangs, nor stings, nor proboscis, thatwould serve the purpose. How then does its reach the blood? Manytheories have been offered; some assert that it rubs the skin with itssnout until its brings it to bleeding: others say that it sets the sharppoint of one of its large tusks against the part, and then by plying itswings wheels round and round, as upon a pivot, until the point haspenetrated--that during this operation the motion of the wings fans andcools the sleeping victim, so that no pain is felt. It may be a longwhile before this curious question is solved, on account of thedifficulty of observing a creature whose habits are nocturnal, and mostof whose deeds are "done in the dark. " People have denied the existence of such a creature as the blood-suckingbat--even naturalists have gone so far. They can allege no bettergrounds for their incredulity than that the thing has an air of thefabulous and horrible about it. But this is not philosophy. Incredulityis the characteristic of the half-educated. It may be carried too far, and the fables of the vulgar have often a stratum of truth at thebottom. There is one thing that is almost intolerable, and that is theconceit of the "closet-naturalist, " who sneers at everything as untruethat seems to show the least _design_ on the part of the brutecreation--who denies everything that appears at all singular orfanciful, and simply because it appears so. With the truthfulobservations that have been made upon the curious domestic economy ofsuch little creatures as bees, and wasps, and ants, we ought to becautious how we reject statements about the habits of other animals, however strange they may appear. Who doubts that a mosquito will perch itself upon the skin of a humanbeing, pierce it with its proboscis, and suck away until it is gorgedwith blood! Why does it appear strange that a bat should do the same? Now your closet-naturalist will believe that the bat _does_ suck theblood of cattle and horses, but denies that it will attack man! This issheer nonsense. What difference to the vampire, whether its victim be abiped or quadruped? Is it fear of the former that would prevent it fromattacking him? Perhaps it may never have seen a human being before:besides, it attacks its victim while asleep, and is rarely ever caughtor punished in the act. Where these creatures are much hunted orpersecuted by man, they may learn to fear him, and their original habitsmay become changed, but that is quite another thing. As nature has formed them, the blood-sucking bats will make their attackindifferently, either upon man or large quadrupeds. There are a thousandproofs to be had in all the tropical regions of America. Every yearanimals are killed by the _phyllostoma hastatum_, not in hundreds, butin thousands. It is recorded that on one extensive cattle-farm severalhundred head were killed in the short period of six months by the bats;and the vaqueros, who received a bounty upon every bat they shouldcapture, in one year succeeded in destroying the enormous number of_seven thousand_! Indeed, "bat-hunting" is followed by some as aprofession, so eager are the owners of the cattle-farms to get rid ofthese pests. Many tribes of Indians and travellers suffer great annoyance from thevampire-bats. Some persons never go to sleep without covering themselveswith blankets, although the heat be ever so oppressive. Any part leftnaked will be attacked by the "phyllostoma", but they seem to have apreference for the tip of the great toe--perhaps because they have foundthat part more habitually exposed. Sometimes one sleeper is "cupped" bythem, while another will not be molested; and this, I may observe, istrue also of the mosquitoes. There may be some difference as to thestate of the blood of two individuals, that leads to this fastidiouspreference. Some are far more subject to their attack than others--somuch so that they require to adopt every precaution to save themselvesfrom being bled to death. Cayenne pepper rubbed over the skin is used tokeep them off, and also to cure the wound they have made; but even thissometimes proves ineffective. Of course there are many species of bats in South America besides thevampire; in fact, there is no class of mammalia more numerous in generaand species, and no part of the world where greater numbers are foundthan in the tropical regions of America. Some are insect-eaters, whileothers live entirely on vegetable substances; but all have the sameunsightly and repulsive appearance. The odour of some kinds is extremelyfetid and disagreeable. Notwithstanding this, they are eaten by many tribes of Indians, and eventhe French Creoles of Guiana have their "bat-soup, " which they relishhighly. The proverb "_De gustibus non disputandum est_, " seems to betrue for all time. The Spanish Americans have it in the phrase "_Cadauno a su gusto_;" "_Chacun à son goût_, " say the French; and on hearingthese tales about "ant-paste, " and "roast monkey, " and "armidillo donein the shell, " and "bat-soup, " you, boy reader, will not fail to exclaim"Every one to his liking. " The vampire appeared to be to Guapo's liking. It was now his turn tokeep watch, and as the rest of them got into their hammocks, and layawake for a while, they saw him take up the bat, spit it upon a forkedstick, and commence broiling it over the fire. Of course _he ate it_! When morning came, and they had got up, what was their astonishment tosee no less than fourteen bats lying side by side! They were dead, ofcourse: Guapo had killed them all during his watch. They had appeared atone period of the night in alarming numbers, and Guapo had done battlemanfully without awaking anybody. Another curious tableau came under their notice shortly after. Just asthey were about to embark, a singular looking tree was observed growingnear the bank of the river. At first they thought the tree was coveredwith birds'-nests, or pieces of some kind of moss. Indeed, it lookedmore like a tree hung over with rags than anything else. Curiosity ledthem to approach it. What was their astonishment to find that the nests, moss, or rags, were neither more or less than a vast assemblage of batssuspended, and asleep! They were hanging in all possible positions; somewith their heads down, some by the claws upon either wing, and some byboth, while a great many had merely hooked over the branch the littlehorny curvature of their tails. Some hung down along the trunk, suspended by a crack in the bark, while others were far out upon thebranches. It was certainly the oddest "roost" that any of the party (Guapo, perhaps, excepted) had ever witnessed; and, after gazing at it for sometime, they turned away without disturbing the sleepers, and getting onboard once more, floated adown the stream swiftly and silently. CHAPTER XXXV. THE MARIMONDAS. That day they made good progress, having dropped down the river adistance of fifty miles at least. They might even have gone farther, buta good camping-place offered, and they did not like to pass it, as theymight not find another so convenient. It was a muddy bank, or rather apromontory that ran out into the river, and was entirely without trees, or any other vegetation, as it was annually overflowed, and formed, infact, part of the bed of the river. At this time the mud was quite dryand smooth, and appeared as if it had been paddled and beaten down bythe feet of animals and birds. This was, in fact, the case, for thepoint was a favourite resting-place for the "chiguires, " or "capivaras, "on their passage to and from the water. There were tracks of tapirs, too, and peccaries, and many sorts of wading birds, that had been therewhile the mud was still soft. There were no trees to which to hang their hammocks, but the ground wassmooth and dry, and they could sleep well enough upon it. They would notbe troubled with the bats, as these creatures keep mostly in the darkshadowy places of the forest; and snakes would not likely be found outon the bare ground. They thought they would there be safer from jaguars, too. In fact, it was from these considerations that they had chosen theplace for their camp. They could go to the woods for an armful or two ofsticks to cook supper with, and that would suffice. The balza was brought close in on the upper side of the promontory, soas to be out of the current; and then all landed and made theirpreparations for passing the night. Guapo marched off with his axe toget some firewood, and Leon accompanied him to assist in carrying it. They had not far to go--only a hundred yards or so, for up at the end ofthe promontory the forest began, and there were both large trees andunderwood. As they walked forward one species of trees caught their attention. Theywere palm-trees, but of a sort they had not yet met with. They were verytall, with a thick, globe-shaped head of pinnate, plume-like leaves. Butwhat rendered these trees peculiar was the stem. It was slender inproportion to the height of the tree, and was thickly covered with longneedle-shaped spines, not growing irregularly, but set in bands, orrings, around the tree. This new palm was the "pupunha, " or"peach-palm, " as it is called, from the resemblance which its fruitsbear to peaches. It is also named "pirijao" in other parts of SouthAmerica, and it belongs to the genus "_Gullielma_. " At the tops of these trees, under the great globe of leaves, Guapo andLeon perceived the nuts. They were hanging in clusters, as grapes grow;but the fruits were as large as apricots, of an oval, triangular shape, and of a beautiful reddish yellow colour. That they were deliciouseating, either roasted or boiled, Guapo well knew; and he was determinedthat some of them should be served at supper. But how were they to bereached? No man could climb such a tree as they grew upon! The needleswould have torn the flesh from any one who should have attempted it. Guapo knew this. He knew, moreover, that the Indians, who are very fondof the fruit of this tree, --so much so that they plant large _palmares_of it around their villages--have a way of climbing it to get at theripe clusters. They tie cross pieces of wood from one tree to the other, and thus make a sort of step-ladder, by which they ascend to the fruit. It is true, they might easily cut down the trees, as the trunks are notvery thick; but that would be killing the goose that gave the goldeneggs. Guapo, however, had no farther interest in this wild orchard than tomake it serve his turn for that one night; so, laying his axe to one ofthe "pupunhas, " he soon levelled its majestic stem to the ground. Nothing more remained than to lop off the clusters, any one of which wasas much as Leon could lift from the ground. Guapo found the wood hardenough even in its green state, but when old it becomes black, and isthen so hard that it will turn the edge of an axe. There is, perhaps, nowood in all South America harder than that of the pirijao palm. It is with the needle-like spines of this species that many tribes ofIndians puncture their skins in tattooing themselves, and other uses aremade by them of different parts of this noble tree. The macaws, parrots, and other fruit-eating birds, are fonder of the nuts of the pupunha thanperhaps any other species; and so, too, would be the fruit-eatingquadrupeds if they could get at them. But the thorny trunk renders themquite inaccessible to all creatures without wings, excepting manhimself. No; there is one other exception, and that is a creatureclosely allied to man, I mean the _monkey_. Notwithstanding the thorny stem, which even man cannot scale without acontrivance; notwithstanding the apparently inaccessibleclusters--inaccessible from their great height--there is a species ofmonkey that manages now and then to get a meal of them. How do thesemonkeys manage it? Not by climbing the stem, for the thorns are toosharp even for them. How then? Do the nuts fall to the ground and allowthe monkeys to gather them? No. This is not the case. How then? We shallsee! Guapo and Leon had returned to the camp, taking with them the pupunhafruit and the firewood. A fire was kindled, the cooking-pot hung over iton a tripod, and they all sat around to wait for its boiling. While thus seated, an unusual noise reached their ears coming from thewoods. There were parrots and macaws among the palms making noiseenough, and fluttering about, but it was not these. The noise that hadarrested the attention of our travellers was a mixture of screaming, andchattering, and howling, and barking, as if there were fifty sorts ofcreatures at the making of it. The bushes, too, were heard "switchingabout, " and now and then a dead branch would crack, as if snappedsuddenly. To a stranger in these woods such a blending of sounds wouldhave appeared very mysterious and inexplicable. Not so to our party. They knew it was only a troop of monkeys passing along upon one of theirjourneys. From their peculiar cries, Guapo knew what kind of monkeysthey were. "_Marimondas_, " he said. The marimondas are not true "howlers, " although they are of the sametribe as the "howling monkeys. " They belong to the genus _Ateles_, socalled because they want the thumb, and are therefore _imperfect_ or_unfinished_ as regards the hands. But what the ateles want in hands issupplied by another member--the tail, and this they have to allperfection. It is to them a fifth hand, and apparently more useful thanthe other four. It assists them very materially in travelling throughthe tree-tops. They use it to bring objects nearer them. They use it tosuspend themselves in a state of repose, and thus suspended, theysleep--nay more, thus suspended they often die! Of all the monkey tribethe ateles are those that have most prehensile power in their tails. There are several species of them known--the coaita, the white-faced, the black cayou, the beelzebub, the chamek, the black-handed, and themarimonda. The habits of all are very similar, though the species differin size and colour. The marimonda is one of the largest of South American monkeys, beingabout three feet standing upon its hind-legs, with a tail of immenselength, thick and strong near the root, and tapering to a point. On itsunder side, for the last foot or so from the end, there is no hair, buta callous skin, and this is the part used for holding on to thebranches. The marimonda is far from being a handsome monkey. Its long, thin arms and thumbless hands give it an attenuated appearance, which isnot relieved by the immense disproportioned tail. It is reddish, or of aparched coffee colour, on the upper part of the body, which becomesblanched on the throat, belly, and insides of the thighs. Its colour, infact, is somewhat of the hue of the half-blood Indian and Negro, --hencethe marimonda is known in some parts of Spanish America by the name of"mono zambo, " or "zambo" monkey--a "zambo" being the descendant ofIndian and Negro parents. The noise made by the marimondas which had been heard by our partyseemed to proceed from the bank of the river, some distance above thepromontory; but it was evidently growing louder every minute, and theyjudged that the monkeys were approaching. In a few minutes they appeared in sight, passing along the upper part ofa grove of trees that stood close to the water. Our travellers had nowan excellent view of them, and they sat watching them with interest. Their mode of progression was extremely curious. They never came to theground, but where the branches interlocked they ran from one to theother with the lightning speed of squirrels, or, indeed, like birds uponthe wing. Sometimes, however, the boughs stood far apart. Then the marimonda, running out as far as the branch would bear him, would wrap a few inchesof his tail around it and spring off into the air. In the spring hewould give himself such an impetus as would cause the branch to revolve, and his body following this circular motion, with the long thin armsthrown out in front, he would grasp the first branch that he couldreach. This, of course, would land him on a new tree, and over that hewould soon spring to the next. Among the troop several females were perceived with their young. Thelatter were carried on the backs of the mothers, where they held on bymeans of their own little tails, feeling perfectly secure. Sometimes themothers would dismount them, and cause them to swing themselves frombranch to branch, going before to show them the way. This was witnessedrepeatedly. In other places, where the intervening space was too widefor the females with their young to pass over, the males could be seenbending down a branch of the opposite tree, so as to bring it nearer, and assist them in crossing. All these movements were performed amidst aconstant gabble of conversation, and shouting, and chattering, and thenoise of branches springing back to their places. The grove through which the troop was passing ended just by the edge ofthe promontory. The palm-trees succeeded, with some trees of large sizethat grew over them. The marimondas at length reached the margin of the grove, and then theywere all seen to stop, most of them throwing themselves, heads down, andhanging only by their tails. This is the position in which they findthemselves best prepared for any immediate action; and it is into thisattitude they throw themselves when suddenly alarmed. They remained sofor some minutes; and from the chattering carried on among them, it wasevident that they were engaged in deliberation. A loud and generalscream proclaimed the result; and all of them, at one and the sameinstant, dropped down to the ground, and were seen crossing over amongthe palm-trees. They had to pass over a piece of open ground with only some weeds uponit; but their helplessness on the ground was at once apparent. Theycould not place their palms on the surface, but doubled them up andwalked, as it were, on the backs of their hands in the most awkwardmanner. Every now and again, they flung out their great tails, in hopesof grasping something that would help them along; and even a large weedwas a welcome support to them. On the ground they were evidently "out oftheir element. " In fact, the _ateles_ rarely descend from the trees, which are their natural _habitat_. At length they reached the palms; and, seated in various attitudes, looked up at the tempting fruit, all the while chattering away. How werethey to reach it? Not a tree that was not covered with long needles--nota bunch of the luscious fruit that was not far above the height of thetallest marimonda! How were they to get at it?--that was the question. It might have been a puzzling question to so many boys--to the monkeysit was not; for in less than a score of seconds they had settled it intheir minds how the pupunhas were to be plucked. Rising high over the palms grew a large tree, with long out-reachingbranches. It was the "zamang" tree--a species of _mimosa_, and one ofthe most beautiful trees of South America. Its trunk rose full seventyfeet without a branch; and then it spread out in every direction innumerous horizontal limbs, that forked and forked again until theybecame slender boughs. These branches were clad with the delicatepinnate leaves that characterise the family of the mimosas. Many of the pupunha palms grew under the shadow of this zamang, but notthe tallest ones. These were farther out. There were some, however, whose tufted crowns reached within a few yards of the lower limbs of themimosa. The monkeys, after a short consultation, were seen scampering up thezamang. Only some of the old and strong ones went--the rest remainedwatching below. From the earnestness of their looks it was evident they felt a livelyinterest in the result. So, too, did the party of travellers; for thesewatched so closely, that the pot was in danger of boiling over. The marimondas, having climbed the trunk, ran out upon the lowermostlimbs, until they were directly above the palms. Then one or two wereseen to drop off, and hang down by their tails. But, although, withtheir fore-arms at full stretch, they hung nearly five feet from thebranch, they could not even touch the highest fronds of the palms, muchless the fruit-clusters that were ten or twelve feet farther down. Theymade repeated attempts; suspending themselves over the very tallestpalms, but all to no purpose. One would have supposed they would have given it up as a bad job. Sothought Doña Isidora, Leon, and the little Leona. Don Pablo knew betterby his reading, and Guapo by his experience. When they saw that no oneof them could reach the nuts, several were seen to get together on oneof the branches. After a moment one dropped down head-foremost asbefore, and hung at his full length. Another ran down the body of thisone, and taking a turn of his tail round his neck and fore-arm, skippedoff and also hung head downwards. A third joined himself on to thesecond in a similar manner, and then a fourth. The fore-arms of thefourth rested upon the fruit-cluster of the pupunha! The chain was now long enough for the purpose. In a few minutes the lastmonkey on the chain, with his teeth and hands, had separated thefootstalk of the spathes, and the great clusters--two of them therewere--fell heavily to the bottom of the tree. The marimondas on theground ran forward; and, in the midst of loud rejoicings began to pulloff the "peaches" and devour them. But the monkeys above did not cease their labours. There were manymouths to feed, and they wanted more nuts. Without changing theirposition, they, by means of their arms and legs, threw themselves into avibrating motion, and by this means the last on the string soon seizedupon another pupunha, and also detached its fruit. In this way theycontinued, until they had stripped every tree within their reach; when, judging they had got enough, the lowermost monkey _climbed back uponhimself_, then up his companions to the branch, and in the same stylewas followed by the other three in succession. As soon as they wereclear of one another, the whole party came down by the trunk to theground, and joined their comrades below in the luxurious repast. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE MONKEY MOTHER. Now you will, perhaps, imagine that Guapo, having sat so quiet duringall this scene, had no desire for a bit of roast-monkey to supper. Inthat fancy, then, you would be quite astray from the truth. Guapo had a_strong_ desire to eat roast marimonda that very night; and, had he notbeen held back by Don Pablo, he would never have allowed the monkeys toget quietly out of the zamang--for it being an isolated tree, it wouldhave afforded him a capital opportunity of "treeing" them. His blow-gunhad been causing his fingers to itch all the time; and as soon as DonPablo and the rest were satisfied with observing the monkeys, Guapo setout, blow-gun, in hand, followed by Leon. There was no cover by which he might approach the group; and, therefore, no course was left for him but to run up as quickly forward as possible, and take his chance of getting a shot as they made off. This course he pursued; but, before he was within anything like fairrange, the monkeys, uttering their shrill screams, scampered over theopen ground, much faster than before, and took to the grove, from whichthey had approached the spot. Guapo followed at a slashing pace, and was soon under the trees, Leon athis heels. Here they were met by a shower of sticks, pieces of bark, half-eaten "peaches, " and something that was far less pleasant to theirolfactory nerves! All these came from the tops of the trees--the verytallest ones--to which the monkeys had retreated, and where they werenow hidden among the llianas and leaves. You may fancy that it is easy to pursue a troop of monkeys in a forest. But it is not easy--in most cases it is not _possible_. The tangledunderwood below puts a stop to the chase at once, as the monkeys canmake their way through the branches above much quicker than the huntercan through the creeping plants below. The pursuit would have been all up with Guapo, for the marimondas hadsoon got some way beyond the edge of the grove; but just as he wasturning to sulk back, his keen Indian eye caught sight of one that wasfar behind the rest--so far, indeed, that it seemed determined to seekits safety rather by hiding than by flight. It had got under cover of abunch of leaves, and there it lay quiet, uttering neither sound norsyllable. Guapo could just see a little bit of its side, and at this inan instant the gravatána was pointed. Guapo's chest and cheeks were seento swell out to their fullest extent, and off went the arrow. A shriekfollowed--the monkey was hit--beyond a doubt. Guapo coolly waited theresult. A movement was visible among the leaves; the marimonda was seen to turnand double about, and pluck something from its side; and then the brokenarrow came glancing among the twigs, and fell to the ground. The monkeywas now perceived to be twisting and writhing upon the branches, and itswild death-screams was answered by the voices of the others farther off. At length its body was seen more distinctly; it no longer thought ofconcealment; but lay out along the limb; and the next moment it droppedoff. It did not fall to the ground, though. It had no design ofgratifying its cruel destroyer to that extent. No; it merely dropped tothe end of its tail, which, lapped over the branch, held it suspended. Afew convulsive vibrations followed, and it hung down dead! Guapo was thinking in what way he might get it down, for he knew thatunless he could reach it by some means, it would hang there until theweather rotted it off, or until some preying bird or the tree-ants hadeaten it. He thought of his axe--the tree was not a very thick one, andit was a soft-wood tree. It would be worth the labour of cutting itdown. He was about turning away to get the axe, when his eye was attracted bythe motion of some object near the monkey. "Another!" he muttered, and sure enough, another, --a littletiny-creature, --ran out from among the leaves, and climbed down the tailand body of the one already shot, threw it arms around her neck andwhined piteously. It was the young one--Guapo had shot the mother! The sight filled Leon with pity and grief; but Guapo knew nothing ofthese sentiments. He had already inserted another arrow into hisgravatána, and was raising his tube to bend it, when, all at once, therewas a loud rustling among the leaves above--a large marimonda that hadreturned from the band was seen springing out upon the branch--he wasthe husband and father! He did not pause a moment. Instinct or quick perception taught him thatthe female was dead: his object was to save the young one. He threw his long tail down, and grasped the little creature in its firmhold, jerked it upward; and then mounting it on his back, bore it offamong the branches! All this passed so quickly, that Guapo had not time to deliver hissecond arrow. Guapo saw them no more. The Indian, however, was not to be cheated out of his supper ofroasted-monkey. He walked quietly back for his axe; and bringing it up, soon felled the tree, and took the marimond mother with him to the camp. His next affair was to skin it, which he did by stripping the pelt fromthe head, arms, legs, and all; so that after being skinned, the creaturebore a most hideous resemblance to a child! The process of cooking came next, and this Guapo made more tedious thanit might have been, as he was resolved to dress the marimonda after themanner practised by the Indians, and which by them is esteemed the best. He first built a little stage out of split laths of the pupunha palm. For this a hard wood that will resist fire a long time is necessary, andthe pupunha was just the thing. Under this stage Guapo kindled a fire of dry wood, and upon the laths heplaced his monkey in a sitting posture, with its arms crossed in front, and its head resting upon them. The fire was then blown upon, until itbecame a bright blaze, which completely enveloped the half-upright formof the monkey. There was plenty of smoke; but this is nothing in theeyes of a South American Indian, many of whom prefer the "smoky flavour"in a roast monkey. Guapo had now no more to do, but wait patiently until the body should bereduced to a black and charred mass, for this is the condition in whichit is eaten by these strange people. When thus cooked, the flesh becomesso dry that it will keep for months without spoiling. The white people who live in the _monkey countries_ eat roast monkey aswell as the Indians. Many of them, in fact, grow very fond of it. Theyusually dress it, however, in a different manner. They take off the headand hands before bringing it to the table; so that the "child-like"appearance is less perceptible. Some species of monkeys are more delicate food than others, and thereare some kinds that _white_ monkey-eaters will not touch. As for the Indians, it seems with them to be "all fish, " &c. ; and theydevour all kinds indifferently, whether they be "howlers, " or "ateles, "or "capuchins, " or "ouistitis, " or "sajous, " or "sakis, " or whateversort. In fact, among many Indian tribes, monkey stands in the same placethat mutton does in England; and they consider it their staple articleof flesh meat. Indeed, in these parts, no other animal is so common asthe monkey; and, with the exception of birds and fish, they have littlechance of getting any other species of animal food. The best "Southdown"would, perhaps, be as distasteful to them as monkey meat would be toyou; so here again we are met by that same eternal proverb, --_Chacun àson goût. _ CHAPTER XXXVII. AN UNEXPECTED GUEST. Guapo sat by the fire patiently awaiting the "doing" of the marimonda. The rest had eaten their supper, and were seated some distance apart. They were looking out upon the broad river, and watching the movementsof the various birds. They could see tall scarlet flamingoes on thefarther shore, and smaller birds of the ibis kind. They could see the"tiger crane, " so called from its colour and spots resembling themarkings of the jaguar. Among some tall canes on the banks the"ciganos, " or gipsy birds, fluttered about with their great crest, looking like so many pheasants, but far inferior to these creatures intheir flesh. In fact, the flesh of the "cigano" is so bitter anddisagreeable that even _Indians will not eat it_. Sitting upon a naked branch that projected over the water they noticedthe solitary sky-blue king-fisher. Over the water swept the great harpyeagle--also a fisher like his white-headed cousin of the North; and nowand then flocks of muscovy ducks made the air resound with their strongbroad wings. They saw also the "boat-bill, " or "crab-eater, " a curiouswading bird of the heron kind, with a large bill shaped like two boatslaid with their concave sides against each other. This, like theking-fisher, sat solitarily upon a projecting stump, now and thendashing into the shallow water, and scooping up the small fishes, frogs, and crustacea with its huge mandibles. Another curious bird was observed, which had something of the appearanceof the water-hen--to which kind it is also assimilated in its habits. Itwas the "faithful jacana" or "chuza, " as it is called in some places. There are several species of "jacana" in South America, and also somespecies in the tropical countries of the East. That known as the"faithful jacana" has a body about the size of a common fowl; but itslegs and neck are longer, so that when standing it is a foot and a halfin height. The body is of a brownish colour; and there is a crest oftwelve black feathers on the nape of the neck, three inches in length. At the bend of the wings there are horny spurs, half an inch long, withwhich the bird can defend itself when attacked. It is, however, apacific bird, and only uses them in defence. The most singular character of the jacana is its long toes and claws. There are four upon each foot: three in front, and one directedbackwards, and when standing these cover a base nearly as large as thebody of the bird; and, indeed, upon ordinary ground they interfere withthe freedom of its walking. But these spreading feet were not designedfor ordinary ground. They were given it to enable it to pass lightlyover the leaves of water-lilies, and other yielding surfaces, throughwhich a narrow-footed bird would at once sink. Of course, as naturedesigned them for this purpose, they answer admirably, and the jacanaskims along the surface of lily-covered ponds or streams withoutsinking. From the leaves it picks up such insects and larvĉ as lodgethere, and which form its principal food. The jacana utters a singular cry when alarmed. It remains silent duringthe whole day, and also at night, unless disturbed by the approach ofsome danger, when it utters its "alarm cry. " So quick is its ear, thatit can detect the least noise or rustling caused by any one approaching. For this reason some tribes of Indians have tamed the jacana, and use itas a sentinel or "watch-dog, " to apprise them of the approach of theirenemies during the darkness of the night. Another use is also made of itby the Spanish-Americans. It is tamed and allowed to go about along withthe domestic poultry. When these are attacked by hawks or other birds ofprey, the jacana defends them with its sharp wing-spurs, and generallysucceeds in beating off the enemy. It never deserts the flock, butaccompanies it in all its movements, and will defend its charge withgreat fury and courage. Besides the water-birds which were noticed by our travellers, many kindswere seen by them upon the shore and fluttering among the trees. Therewere parrots in flocks, and macaws in pairs--for these birds usually goin twos--there were trogons, and great billed toucans, and their kindredthe aracaris; and there, too, were "umbrella-chatterers, " of which thereis a species quite white; and upon a fruit-covered tree, not far off, they saw a flock of the snow-white "bell-birds" (_Casmarhynchos_). These are about as large as blackbirds, with broad bills, from the baseof which grows a fleshy tubercle that hangs down to the length of nearlythree inches, like that of the turkey-cock. The name of "bell-birds" isgiven to them on account of the clear, bell-like ring of their note, which they utter about the middle of the day, when most other creaturesof the tropical world are in silence or asleep. Of course Don Pablo as a naturalist was interested in all those birds, and observed their habits and movements with attention. There was noneof them about which he had not some strange story to tell, and in thisway he was beguiling the after-supper hour. It was too early for them togo to rest--indeed it was not quite sunset; and Guapo for one had notyet had his supper, although that meal was now very near at hand. Themarimonda was becoming charred and black, and would soon be ready formastication. Guapo sat by the fire, now and again raking up the cinders with a longpole which he held in his hand, while his eyes from time to time restedon the marimonda that was directly in front of him, _vis-à-vis_. At length the monkey appeared to him to be "done to a turn, " and withhis _macheté_ in one hand, and a forked stick in the other, he was justbending forward to lift it off the fire, when, to his horror, the groundwas felt to move beneath him, causing him to stagger, and almostthrowing him from his feet! Before he could recover himself, the surfaceagain heaved up, and a loud report was heard, like the explosion of someterrible engine. Then another upheaval--another report--the groundopened into a long fissure--the staging of palms, and the half-burnedcinders, and the charred monkey, were flung in all directions, and Guapohimself went sprawling upon his back! Was it an earthquake? So thought the others, who were now on their feetrunning about in great consternation--the females screaming loudly. So, too, thought Guapo for the moment. Their belief in its being an earthquake, however, was of short duration. The shocks continued; the dried mud flew about in large pieces, and theburnt wood and splinters were showered in the air. The smoke of thesecovered the spot, and prevented a clear view; but through the smoke theterrified spectators could perceive that some large body was inmotion--apparently struggling for life! In another moment it brokethrough the bending stratum of mud, causing a long rift, and there wasdisplayed before their eyes the hideous form of a gigantic crocodile! Though not quite so terrible as an earthquake, it was a fearful monsterto behold. It was one of the largest, being nearly twenty feet inlength, with a body thicker than that of a man. Its immense jaws were ofthemselves several feet long, and its huge tusks, plainly seen, gave ita most frightful appearance. Its mouth was thrown open, as though itgasped for air, and a loud bellowing proceeded from its throat thatsounded like a cross between the grunting of a hog and the lowing of abull. The air was filled with a strong musky odour, which emanated from thebody of the animal; and, what with the noise made by the crocodileitself, the screams and shouts of the party, the yelling of the variousbirds--for they, too, had taken up the cue--there was for some momentsan utter impossibility of any voice being heard above the rest. It was, indeed, a scene of confusion. Don Pablo and his companions were runningto and fro--Guapo was tumbling about where he had fallen--and the greatlizard was writhing and flapping his tail, so that pots, pans, half-burnt faggots, and even Guapo's monkey, were being knocked about inevery direction. Of course such a violent scene could not be of long duration. It mustend one way or the other. Guapo, who soon came to himself, now that hesaw what it was that had pitched him over, had already conceived a planfor terminating it. He ran for his axe, which fortunately lay out of therange of the crocodile's tail, and having laid his hands upon it, heapproached in a stealthy manner with the intention of striking a blow. He directed himself towards the root of the reptile's tail, for he knewthat that was the only place where a blow of the axe would cripple it;but, just as he was getting within reach, the crocodile suddenly shiftedhimself round, making his tail fly like a piece of sprung whalebone. Guapo leaped hastily back--as hastily, I will make bold to say, as anyIndian of his years could have done, but not quick enough to clearhimself quite. He wanted about eight inches; but in this case incheswere as good as miles for the crocodile's purpose, for about eightinches of the tip of his tail came "smack" across Guapo's naked shins, and sent the old Indian head over heels. It was just an accident that Guapo's shanks were not broken like sticksof sealing-wax; and had the blow been directed with the crocodile's fullforce, such would have been the unhappy result. As it was they were only"scratched, " and Guapo, leaping to his feet, ran to recover his axe, forthat weapon had flown several yards out of his hands at the blow. By the time he laid hold of it, however, the _saurian_, was no longer ondry ground. His newly-opened eyes--opened, perhaps, for the first timefor months--caught sight of the water close by, and crawling forward astep or two, he launched his ugly, mud-bedaubed carcass into the welcomeelement. The next moment he had dived, and was out of sight. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE CROCODILE AND CAPIVARAS. Guapo was in no humour for enjoying the conversation of that evening. The crocodile had "choused" him out of his favourite supper. The monkeywas literally knocked to "smithereens, " and the pieces that stilladhered together were daubed all over with mud. It wasn't fit meat--evenfor an Indian--and Guapo had to content himself with a dried plantainand a stew of jerked horse-flesh. Of course Don Pablo and the rest examined with curiosity the great holein the mud that had contained the crocodile. There it had lain duringmonths of the dry season in a state of torpidity, and would, no doubt, have remained still longer, but that it was aroused by the big fire thatGuapo had built over it. The irritation produced by this had been thecause of its sudden resurrection, for the crocodiles that thus burythemselves usually come out after the beginning of the heavy rains. It was a true long-snouted crocodile, as Don Pablo had observed in theshort opportunity he had had; and not an alligator--for it must be hereremarked, that the true crocodile is found in many parts of SpanishAmerica, and also in many of the West Indian Islands. For a long time itwas believed that only alligators existed in America, and that thecrocodiles were confined to the Eastern Continent. It is now known thatat least one species of crocodile is an American animal, and severaldistinct species of alligators are inhabitants of the New World. There is the alligator of the Mississippi--which is the "caïman" or"cayman" of the Spanish Americans; there is the spectacled alligator, asouthern species, so called from a pair of rings around its eyes havinga resemblance to spectacles; and there is a still smaller species calledthe "bava, " which is found in Lake Valencia, and in many South Americanrivers. The last kind is much hunted by the Indians, who, although theyeat parts of all these creatures, are fonder of the flesh of the bavathan of any of the others. They had not intended to keep watch this night, as the naked promontoryseemed to be a safe place to sleep upon; but now, after their adventurewith the crocodile, they changed their minds, and they resolved to mountguard as before. The monster might easily crawl out of the water again, and, judging from the size of his mouth, it is not improbable to supposethat he might have swallowed one of the smaller individuals of the partyat a single effort. Lest he might return to use either his teeth or histail, the watch was set as on other nights--Leon taking the first turn, Guapo the second, and Don Pablo sitting it out till daybreak. The nightpassed through, however, without any unusual disturbance; and althoughan occasional plunge was heard in the water close by, no more was seenof the crocodile until morning. I have said _until_ morning--for he was seen then. Yes! indeed. Thatbeauty was not going to let them off without giving them another peep athim--not he. They were awake and up before day; and as the fire had been kept burningall night, they had now nothing more to do than rake up the embers, andhang on the coffee-kettle. It was not yet bright day when breakfast wasalready cooked, and they sat down to eat it. While engaged in this operation, they noticed a string of flamingoes onthe muddy promontory, at the end where it joined the land. They wereranged in line, like soldiers, some of them balanced on one long thinleg, as these birds do. They appeared in the grey light to be unusuallytall; but when it became a little clearer, our travellers could perceivethat they were not upon the ground, but standing upon an old log. This, of course, made them look taller. They were just in the very track bywhich Guapo and Leon had passed to get the wood the evening before. Now, neither Guapo nor Leon remembered any log. They were certain there wasnone there, else they would have cut it up for firewood, that was a surething; and it was very mysterious who could have rolled a log thereduring the night! While discussing this point it became clearer; and, to the astonishmentof all, what they had taken to be an old log turned out to be nothingelse than their old friend the crocodile! I have said to theastonishment of all--that is not strictly correct. Guapo saw nothing toastonish him in that sight. He had witnessed a similar one many a time, and so does every one who travels either on the Amazon or the Orinoco. These flamingoes were perfectly safe, so far as the crocodile wasconcerned, and they knew it. As long as they kept out of the reach ofhis jaws and tail, he could not hurt them. Although he could bendhimself to either side, so as to "kiss" the tip of his own tail, hecould not reach any part of his back, exert himself as he might. Thisthe flamingoes and other birds well know, and these creatures being fondof a place to perch upon, often avail themselves of the long serratedback of the crocodile, or the caïman. As the day became brighter the flamingoes sat still--not appearing to bealarmed by the movements at the camp, which was about an hundred yardsdistant from their perch. It was likely they had never been frightenedby the hunter, for these birds in districts where they are hunted areexceedingly shy. All at once, however, as if by a given signal, thewhole flock rose together, and flew off with loud screams. Thecrocodile, too, was seen to move, but it was not this which had scaredthem off. It was after they had gone that he had stirred himself; andeven, had it not been so, they would not have regarded his movements, asthese birds are often seen perched upon a _crawling_ crocodile! No. Something else had affrighted them, and that was a noise in thebushes beyond, which was now distinctly heard at the camp. There was arustling of leaves and a crackling of branches, as if more than onecreature made the noise. So it appeared, for the next moment nearly ascore of animals dashed out of the bushes, and ran on towards the water. These creatures were odd enough to fix the attention of the party at thecamp. They were about the size of small hogs--very much of the samebuild--and covered with a thin sandy bristly hair, just like some hogsare. They were not "pig-headed, " however. Their heads were exactly likethose of the grey rabbit, and instead of hoofs they were toed andclawed. This gave them altogether a lighter appearance than hogs, andyet they did not run as fast, although when first noticed they appearedto be doing their best. Our travellers knew them at once, for they were animals that are commonupon the rivers in all the warm parts of South America. They were"_capivaras_, " or "chiguires, " as they are also called. These creaturesare peculiar to the American continent. They are, in fact, "guinea-pigs"on a large scale, and bear the greatest resemblance to those well-knownanimals, except in size and colour; for the capivaras are of uniformsandy brown. They are of the same genus as the guinea-pigs, though the systematizershave put them into a separate one, and have also made a third genus tosuit another animal of very similar shape and habits. This is the"moco, " which is between the guinea-pig and capivara in size, and of agreyish olive colour. All three are natives of South America, and intheir wild state are found only there, though from the absurd name"guinea-pig, " you may be led to think that this little creature cameoriginally from Africa. The three are all "rodent" animals, and the capivara is the largest"rodent" that is known. It, moreover, is amphibious, quite as much so asthe tapir, and is found only near the banks of rivers. It is more athome in the water than on dry land, or perhaps it has more numerousenemies on land; though, poor, persecuted creature! it is not withoutsome in either element, as will be seen by what follows. The drove of the capivaras counted nearly a score, and they were makingfor the water as fast as their legs could carry them. The crocodile laydirectly across their path, but their black eyes, large and prominent, seemed to be occupied with something behind; and they had run up almostagainst the body of the reptile before they saw it. Uttering a sort ofsqueak they made a half-pause. Some sprang up and leaped over--othersattempted to go round. All succeeded except one; but the crocodile, onseeing their approach--no doubt it was for this he had been in wait allthe morning--had thrown himself into the form of a half-moon; and asthey passed he let fly at them. His powerful tail came "flap" againstthe nearest, and it was pitched several yards, where, after a kick ortwo, it lay upon its side as dead as a herring, a door-nail, or evenJulius Cĉsar--take your choice. CHAPTER XXXIX. FIGHT OF THE JAGUAR AND CROCODILE. The chiguires that escaped past the crocodile, the next instant plungedinto the river, and disappeared under the water. They would come to thesurface for breath in ten or twelve minutes, but at such a distance offthat they needed no longer fear pursuit from the same enemy. Our travellers took no notice of them from the moment they were fairlyout of the bushes. They saw that the crocodile had knocked one of themover; but the eyes of Guapo and Don Pablo were directed upon a differentplace--the point at which the chiguires had sallied out of theunderwood. These knew that the animals had not issued forth in theirnatural way, as if they were going to the stream to drink, or in searchof food. No--quite different. Their bristles were erect--they wereexcited--they were terrified--beyond a doubt they were pursued! Who or what was their pursuer? It might be an ocelot, or the yaguarundi, or some one of the smaller cats; for many of these prey on thedefenceless capivara. It _might_ be one of these, thought Don Pablo andGuapo; but what if it was not? What else could it be? What else? _Thejaguar!_ It _was_ the jaguar? As they stood gazing with looks full ofapprehension, the leaves of the underwood were seen to move, and then abeautiful but terrible object, the spotted head of a jaguar, was thrustforth. It remained a moment as if reconnoitring, and then the wholebody, bright and glistening, glided clear of the leaves, and stoodboldly out in front of the underwood. Here it halted anothermoment--only a moment. The crocodile had turned itself, and was aboutclosing its jaws upon the body of the chiguire, when the jaguar seeingthis, uttered a loud scream, and making one bound forward, seized thedead animal almost at the same instant. They were now face to face, --the great lizard and the great cat; andtheir common prey was between them. Each had a firm hold with hispowerful jaws, and each appeared determined to keep what he had got. Theyellow eyes of the jaguar seemed to flash fire, and the black sunkenorbs of the saurian glared with a lurid and deadly light. It was aterrible picture to look upon. For some seconds both remained apparently gazing into each other's eyes, and firmly holding the prey between them. The tail of the jaguarvibrated in sudden angry jerks, while that of the crocodile lay bentinto a semicircle, as if ready to be sprung at a moment's notice. This inaction did not last long. The fury of the jaguar was evidently onthe increase. He was indignant that he, the king of the American forest, should thus meet with opposition to his will; and, indeed, the crocodilewas about the only creature in all the wide Montaña that dare oppose himin open fight. But he was determined to conquer even this enemy, and forthat purpose he prepared himself. Still holding on to the capivara, and watching his opportunity, hesprang suddenly forward, throwing one of his great paws far in advance. His object was to _claw the eye_ of his adversary; for he well knew thatthe latter was vulnerable neither upon its long snout, nor its gauntjaws, nor even upon the tough scaly skin of its throat. Its eyes alonecould be injured, and these were the objects of the jaguar's attack. The thrust was a failure. The crocodile had anticipated such a manoeuvre, and suddenly raising himself on his fore-legs, threw up one of his greatscaly hands and warded off the blow. The jaguar fearing to be clutchedbetween the strong fore-arms of the saurian, drew back to his formerposition. This manoeuvre, and its counter-manoeuvre, were repeated several times, and although each time the struggle lasted a little longer than before, and there was a good deal of lashing of tails and tearing of teeth, andscratching of claws, still neither of the combatants seemed to gain anygreat advantage. Both were now at the height of their fury, and a thirdenemy approaching the spot would not have been heeded by either. From the first the head of the crocodile had been turned to the water, from which he was not distant over ten feet. He had, in fact, beencarrying his prey towards it when he was interrupted by the attack ofthe jaguar; and now at every fresh opportunity he was pushing on, bit bybit, in that direction. He knew that in his own proper element he wouldbe more than a match for his spotted assailant, and no doubt he mighthave escaped from the contest by surrendering his prey. Had he been asmaller crocodile he would have been only too glad to have done so; buttrusting to his size and strength, and perhaps not a little to thejustice of his cause, he was determined not to go without taking thecapivara along with him. The jaguar, on the other hand, was just as determined he should not. He, too, had some rights. The capivara would not have been killed so easily, had he not frightened it from behind; besides, the crocodile was out ofhis element. He was poaching on the domain of the forest monarch. Bit by bit, the crocodile was gaining ground--at each fresh pause in thestruggle he was forging forward, pushing the chiguire before him, and ofcourse causing his antagonist to make ground backwards. The jaguar at length felt his hind-feet in the water; and this seemedto act upon him like a shock of electricity. All at once he let go hishold of the capivara, ran a few feet forward, and then flattening hisbody along the ground, prepared himself for a mighty spring. Before asecond had passed, he launched his body high into the air, and descendedupon the back of the crocodile just over his fore-shoulders! He did notsettle there, but ran nimbly down the back of the saurian towards itshinder part, and its claws could be heard rattling against its scalyskin. In a moment more he was seen close-squatted along the crocodile's body, and with his teeth tearing fiercely at the root of its tail. He knewthat after the eyes this was the most vulnerable part of his antagonist, and if he had been allowed but a few minutes' time, he would soon havedisabled the crocodile; for to have seriously wounded the root of histail, would have been to have destroyed his essential weapon of offence. The jaguar would have succeeded had the encounter occurred only a dozenyards farther from the water. But the crocodile was close to the river'sedge, and perceiving the advantage against him, and that there was nohope of dismounting his adversary, he dropped the capivara, and crawlingforward, plunged into the water. When fairly launched, he shot out fromthe shore like an arrow, carrying the jaguar along, and the next momenthe had dived to the depth of the stream. The water was lashed into foamby the blows of his feet and tail; but in the midst of the froth, theyellow body of the jaguar was seen rising to the surface, and afterturning once or twice, as if searching for his hated enemy, the creatureheaded for the bank and climbed out. He stood for a moment looking backinto the stream. He appeared less cowed than angry and disappointed. Heseemed to vow a future revenge; and then seizing the half-torn carcassof the capivara, he threw it lightly over his shoulder and trotted offinto the thicket. Our travellers had not watched this scene either closely orcontinuously. They had been too busy all the time. From its commencementthey had been doing all in their power to get away from the spot; forthey dreaded lest the jaguar might either first overpower the crocodileand then attack them, or being beaten off by the latter, might take itinto his head to revenge himself by killing whatever he could. Withthese apprehensions, therefore, they had hastily carried everythingaboard, and drawing in their cable, pushed the balza from the shore. When the fight came to an end, they had got fairly into the current, andjust as the jaguar disappeared, the raft was gliding swiftly down thebroad and rippling stream. CHAPTER XL. ADVENTURE WITH AN ANACONDA. For several days they voyaged down-stream, without any occurrence ofparticular interest. Once or twice they saw Indians upon the shore; butthese, instead of putting off in their canoes, seemed frightened at solarge a craft, and remained by their "maloccas, " or greatvillage-houses, in each of which several families live together. Notcaring to have any dealings with them, our travellers were only too gladto get past without molestation; and, therefore, when they passed anyplace where they thought they observed the signs of Indians on the bank, they kept on for hours after, without stopping. A curious incident occurred one evening as they were bringing the balzato her moorings, which compelled them to drop a little fartherdown-stream, and, in fact, almost obliged them to float all night, whichwould have been a dangerous matter, as the current at the place happenedto be sharp and rapid. They had been on the look-out for some time for a good camping-place, asit was their usual hour to stop. No opening, however, appeared forseveral miles. The banks on both sides were thickly-wooded to theriver's edge, and the branches of the trees even drooped into the water. At length they came in sight of a natural raft that had been formed bydriftwood in a bend of the stream; and as the logs lay thickly together, and even piled upon each other, it appeared an excellent place to encampon. It was, at all events, better than to attempt to penetrate the thickjungles which met them everywhere else; and so the balza was directedtowards the raft, and soon floated alongside it. They had already got ashore on the raft, which was dry and firm, andwould have served their purpose well enough; when, all at once, Guapowas heard uttering one of those exclamations, which showed that all wasnot right. The rest looked towards him for an explanation. He wasstanding by the edge of the floating timber, just where the balzatouched it, with his arms stretched out in an attitude that betokenedtrouble. They all ran up. They saw what was the matter at a glance. Thousands of red ants were climbing from the raft to the balza!Thousands, --nay, it would be nearer the truth to say millions! At one glance Don Pablo saw that it would be a terrible calamity, shouldthese creatures gain a lodgment on the balza. Not only were they thedreaded stinging ants, but in a short time nothing on board would beleft. In a few hours they would have eaten all his stores, --his bark, his vanilla, and his roots. Already quite a number had got upon thecanoe, and were crossing it toward the body of the balza. Without saying another word, he ordered all to get on board as quicklyas possible, each taking some utensil that had already been carried onshore. He and Guapo flew to the poles; and, having hastily unfastenedand drawn in the cable, they pushed the balza out into the stream. Thenwhile Guapo managed the great oar, Don Pablo, assisted by Leon and byDoña Isidora, went to work with scoops and pails, dashing water upon theants; until every one of them had disappeared, drowned in the canoe orwashed off into the river. Fortunate for them, they had observed thisstrange enemy in time. Had they not done so--in other words, had theygone to sleep, leaving the balza where it was during the night--theywould have awakened in the morning to find their stores completelydestroyed, their labour of a year brought to nothing in the space of asingle night. This is no uncommon occurrence to the merchant or thecolonist of tropical America. They had made a narrow escape, but a fortunate one. They were notwithout their troubles, however. No open ground could be found for milesbelow; and, as it was growing dark, they approached the thickly-woodedbank; and, after a good deal of scratching among the branches, at lengthsucceeded in making the cable fast to a tree. The balza then swunground, and floated at the end of the cable, half of it being buriedunder the long hanging branches. They spent their night on board, for it was no use attempting to geton shore through the underwood; and even if they had, they could nothave encamped very comfortably in a thicket. On the other hand, thebalza did not afford the best accommodation for sleeping. The little"toldo, " or cabin, was not large enough to swing a hammock in. It wouldonly contain a few persons seated close together; and it had been builtmore for the purpose of keeping the sun off during the hot hours of theday than for sleeping in. The rest of the balza was occupied with thefreight; and this was so arranged with sloping sides, thatched with thebussu-leaves, that there was no level place where one could repose uponit. The night, therefore, was passed without very much sleep having beenobtained by any one of the party. Of course, the moment the firststreaks of day began to appear along the Eastern sky, they were allawake and ready to leave their disagreeable anchorage. As they were making preparations to untie the cable, they noticed thatjust below where the balza lay, a horizontal limb stretched far out overthe river. It was the lowermost limb of a large zamang-tree, that stoodon the bank close to the edge of the water. It was not near the surface, but a good many feet above. Still it was not certain that it was highenough for the roof of the toldo to clear it. That was an importantquestion; for although the current was not very rapid just there, it wassufficiently so to carry the balza under this branch before they couldpush it out into the stream. Once the cable was let go, they mustinevitably pass under the limb of the zamang; and if that caught thetoldo, it would sweep off the frail roof like so much spider's-web. Thiswould be a serious damage; and one to be avoided, if possible. Don Pablo and Guapo went to the end of the balza nearest the branch, andstood for some time surveying it. It was about eight or ten yardsdistant; but in the gray dawn they could not judge correctly of itsheight, and they waited till it grew a little clearer. At length theycame to the conclusion that the branch was high enough. The longpendulous leaves--characteristic of this great _mimosa_ and the droopingbranchlets hung down much below the main shaft; but these, even if theytouched the roof, would do no injury. It was, therefore, determined tolet go the cable. It was now clear day, for they had been delayed a good while; but atlength all was ready, and Guapo untied the cable, and drew the end onboard. The balza began to move; slowly at first, for the current underthe bushes was very slight. All at once the attention of the voyagers was called to the strangeconduct of the pet monkey. That little creature was running to and fro, first upon the roof of the toldo, then down again, all the whileuttering the most piercing shrieks as if something was biting off itstail! It was observed to look forward and upward toward the branch ofthe zamang, as if the object it dreaded was in that quarter. The eyes ofall were suddenly bent in the same direction. What was their horror onbeholding, stretched along the branch, the hideous body of an enormousserpent! Only part of it could be seen; the hinder half and the tailwere hidden among the bromelias and vines that in huge masses clusteredaround the trunk of the zamang, and the head was among the leaflets ofthe mimosa; but what they saw was enough to convince them that it was asnake of the largest size--the great "_water boa_"--the _anaconda_! [Illustration: ADVENTURE WITH AN ANACONDA. ] That part of the body in sight was full as thick as a man's thigh, andcovered with black spots or blotches upon a ground of dingy yellow. Itwas seen to glisten as the animal moved, for the latter was in motion, crawling along the branch _outward_! The next moment its head appearedunder the pendulous leaves; and its long forking tongue, protrudingseveral inches from its mouth, seemed to feel the air in front of it. This tongue kept playing backwards and forwards, and its viscid coveringglittered under the sunbeam, adding to the hideous appearance of themonster. To escape from passing within its reach would be impossible. The balzawas gliding directly under it! It could launch itself aboard at will. Itcould seize upon any one of the party without coming from the branch. Itcould coil its body around them, and crush them with the constrictingpower of its muscles. It could do all this; for it had crushed beforenow the tapir, the roebuck, perhaps even the jaguar himself. All on board the boat knew its dangerous power too well; and, of course, terror was visible in every countenance. Don Pablo seized the axe, and Guapo laid hold of his _macheté_. DoñaIsidora, Leon, and the little Leona, were standing--fortunately theywere--by the door of the toldo; and, in obedience to the cries andhurried gestures of Don Pablo and the Indian, they rushed in and flungthemselves down. They had scarcely disappeared inside, when the forwardpart of the balza upon which stood Don Pablo and Guapo, came close tothe branch, and the head of the serpent was on a level with their own. Both aimed their blows almost at the same instant; but their footing wasunsteady, the boa drew back at the moment, and both missed their aim. The next moment the current had carried them out of reach, and they hadno opportunity of striking a second blow. The moment they had passed the hideous head again dropped down, and hungdirectly over, as if waiting. It was a moment of intense anxiety to DonPablo. His wife and children! Would it select one as its victim, andleave the others? or---- He had but little time for reflection. Already the head of the snake waswithin three feet of the toldo door. Its eyes were glaring--it was aboutto dart down. "Oh, God, have mercy!" exclaimed Don Pablo, falling upon his knees. "Oh, God!" At that moment a loud scream was heard. It came from the toldo; and, atthe same instant, the saïmiri was seen leaping out from the door. Alongwith the rest, it had taken shelter within; but just as the head of thesnake came in sight, a fresh panic seemed to seize upon it; and, as ifunder the influence of fascination, it leaped screaming in the directionof the terrible object. It was met half way. The wide jaws closed uponit, its shrieks were stifled, and the next moment its silken body, alongwith the head of the anaconda, disappeared among the leaves of themimosa. Another moment passed, and the balza swept clear of the branch, and floated triumphantly into the open water. Don Pablo sprang to his feet, ran into the toldo, and, after embracinghis wife and children, knelt down and offered thanks to God for theiralmost miraculous deliverance. CHAPTER XLI. A BATCH OF CURIOUS TREES. Of course the escape from danger so imminent, after the first momentswere over, produced a sort of reaction in the feelings of all and theywere now rather joyous than otherwise. But with all there was a mixtureof regret when they thought of the fate of little "titi. " It had beentheir only pet, and had grown to be such a favourite that its loss wasnow mourned by every one, and its absence caused them to feel as thoughone of the company had been left behind. Several times during that daypoor "titi" was the subject of conversation; indeed, they could hardlytalk about anything else. Little Leona was quite inconsolable; for thepretty creature had loved Leona, and used to perch on her shoulder bythe hour, and draw her silken ringlets through its tiny hand, and placeits dainty little nose against the rich velvet of her cheek, and playoff all sorts of antics with her ears. Many an hour did "titi" andLeona spend together. No wonder that the creature was missed. During the whole of that day they travelled through a country coveredwith dense forest. The river was a full half-mile wide, but sometimesthere were islands, and then the current became narrowed on each side, so that in passing, the balza almost touched the trees on one side orthe other. They saw many kinds of trees growing together, and rarely alarge tract covered with any one species of timber, for this, as alreadyremarked, is a peculiarity of the Amazon forest. Many new and curious trees were noticed, of which Don Pablo gave shortbotanical descriptions to the others, partly to instruct them, andpartly to while away the hours. Guapo, at the rudder, listened to theselearned lectures, and sometimes added some information of his own aboutthe properties of the trees, and the uses to which they were put by theIndians. This is what is termed the popular part of the science ofbotany, and, perhaps, it is more important than the mere classificationof genera and species, which is usually all the information that you getfrom the learned and systematic botanists. Among the trees passed to-day was one called the "volador. " This is alarge forest tree, with lobed leaves, of a heart-shape. But it is theseeds which are curious, and which give to the tree the odd name of"volador, " or "flier. " These seeds have each a pair of membranaceous andstriated wings, which, when the seeds fall, are turned to meet the airat an angle of 45°; and thus a rotatory motion is produced, and thefalling seeds turn round and round like little fly-wheels. It isaltogether a curious sight when a large volador is shaken in calmweather, to see the hundreds of seeds whirling and wheeling towards theground, which they take a considerable time in reaching. The volador isnot confined to South America, I have seen it in Mexico, and other partsof North America. Another singular tree noticed was a tree of the barberry family knownamong the Spanish-Americans as _barba de tigre_, or "tiger's beard. "This name it derives from the fact of its trunk--which is very large andhigh--being thickly set all over with sharp, branching thorns, that arefancied to resemble the whiskers of the jaguar, or South American"tiger. " A third remarkable tree (or bush) observed was the _Bixa orellana_, which yields the well-known _arnatto_ dye. This bush is ten or twelvefeet in height, and its seeds grow in a burr-like pericarp. These seedsare covered with a reddish pulp, which produces the dye. The mode ofmaking it is simple. The Indian women throw the seeds into a vessel ofhot water, and stir them violently for about an hour, until they havetaken off the pulp. The water is then poured off, and the deposit, separated from the seeds, is mixed with oil of turtle-eggs, or crocodilefat, and kneaded into cakes of three or four ounces weight. It is then "anoto, " sometimes written "arnatto, " sometimes "arnotto, "sometimes "onoto, " and sometimes "anato. " The first is the properspelling. In Brazil it is called "urucu, " whence the French name"rocou;" and the Peruvians have still another designation for it, "achoté. " Of course each tribe of Indians calls it by a separate name. The botanic name, _Bixa_, is the ancient name by which it was known tothe Indians of Hayti, for it is found in most parts of tropical Americagrowing wild, although it is also cultivated. It is an article in greatdemand among all the Indians of South America, who use it for paintingtheir bodies, and dyeing the cotton cloth of which they make theirgarments. But these people are very skilful in drawing pigments from plants andtrees of many kinds; in fact, their practical chemistry, so far as itrelates to dyes and poisons, is quite surprising, and from time to timeGuapo pointed out trees that were used by them, for such purposes. One was a climbing plant, whose tendrils reached to the tops of thehighest trees. It had beautiful violet-coloured flowers, an inch long, and Don Pablo saw that it was a species of _bignonia_. Guapo called it"chica. " When in fruit it carries a pod two feet in length, full ofwinged seeds. But Guapo said it was not from the seeds that the dye wasobtained, but from the leaves, which turn red when macerated in water. The colouring matter comes out of the leaves in the form of a lightpowder, and is then shaped into cakes, which sell among the Indians forthe value of a dollar each. This colour has a tinge of lake in it, andis prized even more highly than the anoto. Indeed, red dyes among allsavage nations seem to hold a higher value than those of any othercolour. Another dye-tree was the "huitoc. " This one is a slender tree, abouttwenty feet high, with broad leaves shooting out from the stem, and nutsgrowing at their bases, after the manner of the bread-fruit. These nutsresemble black walnuts, and are of a russet colour outside; but the pulpinside, which produces the huitoc, is of a dark blue, or purple tint. The "wild indigo tree, " was also seen growing in the woods, with a leafnarrow at the base, and broad at the extremity. With these and manyother dyes the Indians of the Montaña paint their bodies in fantasticmodes. So much are they addicted to these customs, that, among theIndians who labour at the missions, some have been known to work nearlya month to procure paint enough to give their body a single coat, andthe missionaries have made a merchandise of this gigantic folly. But thepaint is not always to be looked upon in the light of a mere folly, orvanity. Sometimes it is used to keep off the "zancudos, " or mosquitoes, so numerous and annoying in these regions. Another singular tree was observed, which Guapo called the "marima, " or"shirt-tree. " The use of this he explained. The tree stands fifty orsixty feet high, with a diameter of from two to three. When they findthem of this size, the Indians cut them down, and then separate thetrunk into pieces of about three feet long. From these pieces they stripthe bark, but without making any longitudinal incision, so that thepiece of bark when taken off is a hollow cylinder. It is thin andfibrous, of a red colour, and looks like a piece of coarsely-wovensack-cloth. With this the shirt is made, simply by cutting two holes inthe sides to admit the arms, and the body being passed into it, it isworn in time of rain. Hence the saying of the old missionaries, that inthe "forests of America garments were found ready-made on the trees. " Many other trees were noticed valuable for their fruits, or leaves, orbark, or roots, or their wood. There was the well-known "seringa, " orIndia-rubber tree; the great courbaril, the "dragon's-blood" tree, notthat celebrated tree of the East but one of a different genus from whosewhite bark flows a red blood-like juice. They saw, also, a species of cinnamon-tree though not the cinnamon ofcommerce; the large tree that bears the Brazilian nut-meg (the Puxiri);and that one, also, a large forest tree, that bears the nuts known as"Tonka beans, " and which are used in the flavouring of snuff. But of all the trees which our travellers saw on that day, none madesuch a impression upon them as the "juvia, " or Brazil-nut tree. Thistree is not one with a thick trunk; in fact, the largest ones are notthree feet in diameter, but it rises to a height of 120 feet. Its trunkis branchless for more than half that height, and the branches thenspread out and droop, like the fronds of the palm. They are naked neartheir bases, but loaded towards the top with tufts of silvery greenleaves, each two feet in length. The tree does not blossom until itsfifteenth year, and then it bears violet-coloured flowers; althoughthere is another species, the "sapucaya, " which has yellow ones. But itis neither the trunk, nor the branches, nor the leaves, nor yet theflowers of this tree, that render it such an object of curiosity. It isthe great woody and spherical pericarps that contain the nuts or fruitsthat are wonderful. These are often as large as the head of a child, andas hard as the shell of the cocoa-nut! Inside is found a largenumber--twenty or more--of those triangular-shaped nuts which you maybuy at any Italian warehouse under the name of "Brazil-nuts. " CHAPTER XLII. THE FOREST FESTIVAL. In consequence of their having rested but poorly on the preceding night, it was determined that they should land at an early hour; and this theydid, choosing an open place on the shore. It was a very pretty spot, andthey could see that the woods in the background were comparatively open, as though there were some meadows or prairies between. These openings, however, had been caused by fire. There had been agrowth of cane. It had been burned off and as yet was not grown upagain, though the young reeds were making their appearance like a fieldof green wheat. Some places, and especially near the river, the groundwas still bare. This change in the landscape was quite agreeable to ourtravellers; so much so, that they resolved to exercise their limbs bytaking a short stroll; and, having finished their late dinner they setout. They all went together, leaving the balza and camp to take care ofthemselves. After walking a few hundred yards their ears were assailed by a confusednoise, as if all the animals in the forest had met and were holding a_conversazione_. Some low bushes prevented them from seeing what itmeant, but on pushing their way through, they saw whence and from whatsort of creatures the noise proceeded. Standing out in the open ground was a large and tall juvia-tree. Itsspreading branches were loaded with great globes as big as humanheads--each one, of course, full of delicious nuts. These were now ripe, and some of them had already fallen to the ground. Upon the ground an odd scene presented itself to the eyes of ourtravellers. Between birds and animals assembled there, there were notless than a dozen kinds, all as busy as they could be. First, then, there were animals of the rodent kind. These were pacas, agoutis and capivaras. The pacas were creatures a little larger thanhares, and not unlike them, except that their ears were shorter. Theywere whitish on the under parts, but above were of a dark brown colour, with rows of white spots along each side. They had whiskers like thecat, consisting of long white bristles; and their tails, like those ofhares, were scarcely visible. The agoutis bore a considerableresemblance to the pacas. Like these, they are also rodent animals, butless in size; and instead of being spotted, they are of a nearly uniformdark colour mixed with reddish brown. Both pacas and agoutis are found in most parts of tropical America. There are several species of each, and with the chinchillas andviscachas already described, they occupy the place in those regions thatthe hares and rabbits do in northern climates. Indeed, European settlersusually know them by the names of hare or rabbit, and hunt them in thesame way. The flesh of most species is very good eating, and they aretherefore much sought after both by the natives and colonists. Along with these, near the juvia-tree, were several capivaras, alreadynoticed. But still more singular creatures on the ground were themonkeys. Of these there were different kinds; but that which first drewthe attention of our party was the great Capuchin monkey. This creatureis not less than three feet in height and of a reddish maroon colour. Its body is entirely different from the "ateles" monkeys, being stouterand covered with a fuller coat of hair; and its tail is large and bushy, without any prehensile power. It is, in fact, less of a tree monkey thanthe _ateles_, although it also lives among the branches. The moststriking peculiarities of the Capuchin are its head and face. In theseit bears a stronger resemblance to the human being than any other monkeyin America. The top of its head is covered with a crop of coarse hair, that liessomewhat after the fashion of human hair; but, what most contributes tothe human expression is a large full beard and whiskers reaching down tothe breast, and arranged exactly after the fashion of the huge beardsworn by Orientals and some Frenchmen. There were only two of theseCapuchins on the ground--a male and female, for this species does notassociate in bands. The female one was easily distinguished by hersmaller size, and her beard was considerably less than that of the male. The beards seemed to be objects of special attention withboth--especially the male, as every now and then he was observed tostroke it down with his hand, just as a dandy may be seen doing with hismoustache or his well-brushed whiskers. Another peculiar habit of the Capuchins was noticed. There was a littlepool of water close by. Every now and then they ran to this pool andtook a drink from it. But in drinking they did not apply their lips tothe pool or lap like a dog. No; they lifted the water in the hollow oftheir hands--hence their specific name of _chiropotes_, or"hand-drinking monkeys. " They raised the water to their lips with greatcare, taking pains not to let a drop of it fall on their preciousbeards. From this habit of going so often to quench their thirst, theCapuchin monkeys have in some parts got the name of "hard-drinkingmonkeys. " Apart from these was a troop of monkeys of a very different species. They were nearly of the same size, but more of the shape of the"ateles;" and their long tails, naked underneath and curling downwardnear the points, showed that, like them too, they possessed prehensilepower in that member. Such was the fact, for they were "howlingmonkeys;" and some species of these can use the tail almost as adroitlyas the "ateles" themselves. Those that our travellers saw were the"guaribas, " nearly black in colour, but with their hands covered withyellow hair, whence their name among the naturalists of "yellow-handedhowler. " They were seated in a ring when first observed, and one--apparently thechief of the band--was haranguing the rest; but so rapid were hisarticulations, and so changeable the tones of his voice, that any onewould have thought the whole party were chattering together. This, ineffect, did occur at intervals, and then you might have heard them tothe distance of more than a mile. These creatures are enabled to producethis vast volume of voice in consequence of a hollow bony structure atthe root of the tongue, which acts as a drum, and which gives them theappearance of a swelling, or goitre, in the throat. This is common toall the howling monkeys as well as the guaribas. Besides the howlers there were other species--there were tamarins, andouistitis, and the black coaitas of the genus "ateles, " all assembledaround the juvia-tree. There were parrots, and macaws, and othernut-eating birds. High above in the air soared the great eagle watchinghis opportunity to swoop down on the pacas or agoutis, his natural prey. It was altogether a singular assemblage of wild animals--a zoologicalgarden of the wilderness. Our party, concealed by bushes, looked on for some time. They noticedthat not one of all the living things was _under_ the tree. On thecontrary, they formed--monkeys, cavies, parrots, and all--a sort of ringaround it, but at such a distance that none of the branches were abovethem! Why was this? Guapo knew the reason well, and before leaving theirplace of observation the others had an explanation of it. While they stood gazing, one of the great globes was seen to fall fromthe tree above. The loud report as it struck the earth could have beenheard a long way off. It caused the whole assemblage of living creaturesto start. The macaws flapped their wings, the monkeys ran outward andthen stopped, and a simultaneous cry from the voices of both birds andbeasts echoed on all sides; and then there was a general chattering andscreaming, as though the fall of the great pericarp had given pleasureto all parties. It was very evident from this circumstance why both beasts and birdskept so far out from the tree. One of these fruits coming down like anine-pound shot would have crushed any of them to atoms. Indeed, soheavy are they, that one of them falling from a height of fifty or sixtyfeet will dash out the brains of a man; and the Indians who gather themgo under the trees with great wooden helmets that cover both the headand shoulders! It would be no boy's play to "go a nutting" in a wood ofjuvia-trees. But how did the monkeys and birds get at the nuts? Neither of thesecould break open the outer shell. This is full half an inch thick, andso hard that it can scarcely be cut with a saw. How could either monkeysor birds open it?--that was the question put to Guapo. "Watch them, " said Guapo. All kept their eyes bent attentively on what was going on; and to theirastonishment they observed that neither the monkeys nor the birds hadanything to do with the opening of the shells. That was entirely thework of the rodent animals, the pacas, cavies, and agoutis. These withtheir fine cutting teeth laid open the thick pericarps, and whenever onewas seen to have succeeded, and the triangular nuts were scattered uponthe ground, then there was a general rush, and macaws, parrots, andmonkeys scrambled for a share. The monkeys, however, did their part of the work. Whenever a fruit fellfrom the tree, one or two of them, deputed by the others, were seen torun in and roll it out, all the while exhibiting symptoms of greatterror. They would then lift it in their hands, several of themtogether, and dash it repeatedly upon a stone. Sometimes, when the shellwas not a strong one, they succeeded in breaking it in this way; butoftener they were not able, and then it was left to the rodent animals, who were watched at their operations, and usually robbed of the fruitsof their labour. Such were the singular incidents witnessed at thisfestival of juvia-nuts. But the scene was brought to a sudden termination. A cry was heard thatrose far above all the other noises--a cry more terrible than thescreams of the parrots, or the shrieks of the howling monkeys--it wasthe cry of the jaguar! It came from a piece of wood close to thejuvia-trees, and the branches were heard to crackle as the dreadedutterer advanced. In a moment the ground was cleared of every creature. Even the wingedbirds had flew up from the spot, and perched upon the branches; thecavies took to the water; the pacas and agouties to their burrows; andthe monkeys to the tops of the adjacent trees; and nothing remained onthe ground but the empty shells of the juvias. Our party did not stay to notice the change. They, too, had been warnedby the roar of the tiger, and hastily leaving the spot, returned totheir place of encampment. On reaching it, they kindled a large circleof fire to keep them in safety during the night. They saw no more of thejaguar, although at intervals through the midnight hours, they wereawakened by his loud and savage cry, resounding through the openings ofthe forest. CHAPTER XLIII. ACRES OF EGGS. The next evening our travellers encamped on a sand-bar, or rather agreat bank of sand, that ran for miles along one side of the river. Ofcourse they had nothing to hang their hammocks to, but that was a matterof no importance, for the sand was dry and soft, and of itself wouldmake a comfortable bed, as pleasant to sleep on as a hair-mattress. Theyonly wanted wood enough to cook with, and to keep up their fire duringthe night--so as to frighten off the wild beasts. This night they kept watch as usual, Leon taking the first turn. Infact, they found that they must do so every night--as in each of thecamps where they had slept some danger had threatened; and they thoughtit would be imprudent for all to go to sleep at the same time. Theheaviest part of the sentinel's duty fell to Guapo's share; but Guapohad long accustomed himself to go without sleep, and did not mind it;moreover Don Pablo took longer spells at the stern-oar during the day, and allowed Guapo many a "cat-nap. " Leon seated himself upon a pile of sand that he had gathered up, and didhis best to keep awake, but in about an hour after the rest were asleephe felt very drowsy--in fact, quite as much so as on the night of theadventure with the vampire. He used pretty much the same means to keephimself awake, but not with so good success, for on this occasion hefell into a nap that lasted nearly half-an-hour, and might havecontinued still longer, had he not slid down the sand-hill and tumbledover on his side. This awoke him; and feeling vexed with himself, herubbed his eyes as if he was going to push them deeper into theirsockets. When this operation was finished, he looked about to see if any creaturehad ventured near. He first looked towards the woods--for of course thatwas the direction from which the tigers would come, and these were theonly creatures he feared; but he had scarcely turned himself when heperceived a pair of eyes glancing at him from the other side of thefire. Close to them another pair, then another and another, until havinglooked on every side, he saw himself surrounded by a complete circle ofglancing eyes! It is true they were small ones, and some of the headswhich he could see by the blaze, were small--they were not jaguars, butthey had an ugly look--they looked like the heads of serpents! Was itpossible that an hundred serpents could have surrounded the camp? Brought suddenly to his feet, Leon stood for some moments uncertain howto act. He fully believed they were snakes--anacondas, or water-snakesno doubt--that had just crept out of the river; and he felt that amovement on his part would bring on their united and simultaneous attackupon the sleeping party. Partly influenced by this fear, and againexhibiting that coolness and prudence which we have already noticed as atrait of his character, he remained for some moments silent andmotionless. Having already risen to his feet, his eyes were now above the level ofthe blaze, and, as they got the sleep well scared out of them, he couldsee things more distinctly. He now saw that the snake-like heads wereattached to large oval-shaped bodies, and that, besides the halfhundred or so that had gathered around the fires, there were wholedroves of the same upon the sandy beach beyond. The white surface wasliterally covered as far as he could see on all sides of him with blackmoving masses; and where the rays of the moon fell upon the beach, therewas a broad belt that glistened and sparkled as though she shone uponpieces of glass kept constantly in motion! A singular sight it was; and to Leon, who had never heard of suchbefore, a most fearful one. For the life of him he could not make outwhat it all meant, or by what sort of odd creatures they weresurrounded. He had but an indistinct view of them, but he could see thattheir bodies were not larger than those of a small sheep, and from theway in which they glistened under the moon he was sure they werewater-animals, and had come out of the river! He did not stay to speculate any longer upon them. He resolved to wakeGuapo; but in doing so the whole party were aroused, and started totheir feet in some alarm and confusion. The noise and movement had itseffect on the nocturnal visitors; for before Leon could explain himself, those immediately around the fires and for some distance beyond rushedto the edge, and were heard plunging by hundreds into the water. Guapo's ear caught the sounds, and his eye now ranging along the sandyshore, took in at a glance the whole thing. "Carapas, " he said laconically. "Carapas?" inquired Leon. "Oh!" said Don Pablo, who understood him. "Turtles is it?" "Yes, master, " replied Guapo. "This is, I suppose, one of their greathatching-places. They are going to lay their eggs somewhere in the sandabove. They do so every year. " There was no danger from the turtles, as Guapo assured everybody, butthe fright had chased away sleep, and they all lay awake for some timelistening to Guapo's account of these singular creatures, which we shalltranslate into our own phraseology. These large turtles, which in other parts of South America are called"arraus, " or simply "tortugas, " assemble every year in large armies, from all parts of the river. Each one of these armies chooses for itselfa place to breed--some sandy island, or great sand-bank. This theyapproach very cautiously--lying near it for some days, and reconnoitringit with only their heads above the water. They then crawl ashore atnight in vast multitudes--just as the party saw them--and each turtle, with the strong crooked claws of her hind feet, digs a hole for herselfin the sand. These holes are three feet in diameter and two deep. Inthis she deposits her eggs--from seventy to one hundred and twenty ofthem--each egg being white, hard-shelled, and between the size of apigeon's and pullet's. She then covers the whole with sand, levelling itover the top so that it may look like the rest of the surface, and sothat the precious treasure may not be found by vultures, jaguars, andother predatory creatures. When this is done the labour of the turtle isat an end. The great army again betakes itself to the water, and scatters in everydirection. The sun acting upon the hot sand does the rest; and in lessthan six weeks the young turtles, about an inch in diameter, crawl outof the sand, and at once make for the water. They are afterwards seen inpools and lakes, where the water is shallow, far from the place wherethey have been hatched; and it is well known that the first years oftheir life are not spent in the bed of the great river. How they findthese pools, or whether the mothers distinguish their own young andconduct them thither, as the crocodiles and alligators do, is a mystery. With these last the thing is more easy, as the crocodile mothers deposittheir eggs in separate places, and each returns for her young when theyare hatched, calls them by her voice, and guides them to the pool wherethey are to remain until partly grown. But among the thousands of little turtles hatched at one place and time, and that seek the water altogether, how would it be possible for theturtle mother to distinguish her own young? Yet an old female turtle isfrequently seen swimming about with as many as a hundred little onesafter her! Now are these her own, or are they a collection picked up outof the general progeny? That is an undetermined question. It would seemimpossible that each turtle mother should know her own young, yet amidstthis apparent confusion there may be some maternal instinct that guidesher to distinguish her own offspring from all the rest. Who can say? It is not often, however, that the turtle is permitted to have offspringat all. These creatures are annually robbed of their eggs in millions. They have many enemies, but man is the chief. When a turtle hatchingplace is discovered, the Indians assemble, and as soon as all the eggshave been deposited, they uncover and collect them. They eat them--butthat is not the principal use to which they are put. It is for themaking of oil, or "tortoise-butter, " they are collected. The eggs are thrown into a large trough or canoe, where they are brokenup with a wooden spade and stirred about for awhile. They then remainexposed to the sun, until the oily part collects on the surface, whichis then skimmed off and well boiled. The "tortoise-butter" is now made, and after being poured into earthen jars or bottles, it is ready formarket. The oil is clear, of a pale yellow colour, and some regard it asequal to the best olive oil, both for lamps and for cooking. Sometimes, however, it has a putrid smell, because many of the eggs are alreadyhalf hatched before the gathering takes place. What would be the result were these eggs not gathered by the Indians?Perhaps in the different rivers of South America more than an hundredmillions of them are deposited every year! In the Orinoco alone, inthree principal hatching places, it has been calculated that at leastthirty three millions are annually destroyed for the making oftortoise-butter! Fancy, then, one hundred millions of animals, each ofwhich grows to the weight of fifty or sixty pounds, being produced everyyear, and then the increase in production which these would make if leftto themselves! Why the rivers would be crowded; and it would be truewhat old Father Gumilla once asserted, that "It would be as difficult tocount the grains of sand on the shores of the Orinoco, as to count theimmense number of tortoises that inhabit its margins and waters. Were itnot for the vast consumption of tortoises and their eggs, the river, despite its great magnitude, would be unnavigable, for vessels would beimpeded by the enormous multitude of the tortoises. " But nature has provided against this "over-population" of the turtlesby giving them a great many enemies. The jaguars, the ocelots, thecrocodiles, the cranes, and the vultures, all prey upon them; and, perhaps, if man were to leave them alone, the result would be, not sucha great increase in the number of the turtles, but that the creatureswho prey upon them would come in for a larger share. The "carapa, " or arrau turtle, is, when full grown, forty or fiftypounds in weight. It is of a dark green colour above and orange beneath, with yellow feet. There are many other species of fresh-water turtles inthe rivers of South America, but these breed separately, each femalechoosing her own place, and making her deposit alone. Indeed, some ofthe smaller species, as the "terekay, " are more esteemed both for theirflesh and eggs; but as a large quantity of these eggs is never foundtogether, they are not collected as an article of trade, but only to beroasted and eaten. The white does not coagulate in roasting or boiling, and only the yolk is eaten, but that is esteemed quite as palatable asthe eggs of the common fowl. The flesh of all kinds is eaten by the Indians, who fry it in pots, andthen pour it with its own oil into other vessels and permit it to cool. When thus prepared, it will keep for a long time, and can be taken outwhen required for use. Most of the above particulars were communicated by Guapo; and when hehad finished talking, all the others went to sleep, leaving Guapo to hismidnight vigil. CHAPTER XLIV. A FIGHT BETWEEN TWO VERY SCALY CREATURES. When they awoke in the morning they found Guapo busy over the fire. Hehad already been at the turtles' nests, and had collected a largebasketful of the eggs, some of which he was cooking for breakfast. Inaddition to the eggs, moreover, half-a-dozen large turtles lay upontheir backs close by. The flesh of these Guapo intended to scoop out andfry down, so as to be carried away as a sort of stock of preservedmeat;--and a very excellent idea it was. He had caught them during hiswatch as they came out of the water. All the turtles had gone off, although this is not always the case; forfrequently numbers that have not finished covering their eggs during thenight may be seen hard at work in the morning, and so intent on it, thatthey do not heed the presence of their worst enemies. These the Indiansdenominate "mad tortoises. " This morning, however, no "mad tortoises" were to be seen; but when ourtravellers cast their eyes along the beach they saw quite a number thatappeared to be turned upon their backs just like those that Guapo hadcapsized. They were at some distance from the camp, but curiosityprompted our travellers to walk along the beach and examine them. Sureenough there were nearly a dozen large tortoises regularly laid on theirbacks, and unable to stir; but, besides these, there were severaltortoise-shells out of which the flesh had been freshly scooped, andthese were as neatly cleaned out as if the work had been done by ananatomist. All this would have been a mystery but for the experience ofGuapo; but Guapo knew it was the jaguar that had turned the tortoiseson their backs, and that had cleaned out and eaten the flesh from theempty shells! Now, it is no easy thing for a man, provided with the necessaryimplements, to separate the flesh of a tortoise from its shell, and yetthe jaguar, with his paw, can in a few minutes perform this operationmost adroitly, as our travellers had full proof. All that they saw hadbeen done that same night; and it gave them no very pleasant feeling toknow that the jaguar had been at work so near them. This animal, as Guapo said, in attacking the turtles, first turns themover, so as to prevent their escape--for the "carapas" are of thosetortoises that once upon their backs on level ground cannot rightthemselves again. He then proceeds to tear out the flesh, and eats it athis leisure. Oftentimes he capsizes a far greater number than he caneat, and even returns to the spot to have a second meal of them; butfrequently the Indians wandering along the river, find the tortoises hehas turned over, and of course make an easy capture of them. Guapo, upon this occasion, took advantage of the jaguar's skill, andcarried to the camp all that the latter had left. It was Guapo's designto make a large quantity of "turtle sausage-meat, " so that they mighthave a supply for many days, as by this time even Guapo himself wasgetting tired of the horse-flesh "charqui. " They were about returning to camp, when their attention was drawn to twodark objects upon the sand-beach a little farther on. These objects werein motion, and at first they believed they were a pair of "madtortoises" that had not yet returned to the water, although they wereclose to its edge. Led on by curiosity our party approached them, and saw that one only wasa tortoise, and one of the largest kind, being nearly three feet indiameter. The other animal was a small caïman or alligator. As our travellers drew near they saw that these two creatures wereengaged in a fierce and deadly combat. Now, it is a curious fact thatthe larger alligators and crocodiles are among the most destructiveenemies which the turtles have, eating thousands of the latter whilethey are still tiny little creatures and unable to defend themselves;and, on the other hand, that the turtles prey extensively on the youngof both alligators and crocodiles, eating them whenever they can catchthem! I say this is a curious fact in natural history, and it seems asort of retaliatory principle established between these two kinds ofreptiles, as if they ate one another's offspring _en revanche_. There is no feeling of revenge, however, in the matter. It is merely aninstinct of appetite by which both kinds will eat almost any small frythey come across. In fact, the alligators and crocodiles not only eatthe young of the turtles, but their own young as well. That is, the _oldmales_ do; and it has been stated, that the males of some species oftortoises have a similar unnatural appetite. The turtle of which we are speaking is one of the most carnivorous ofthe whole race, and one of the fiercest in its nature too; so much so, that it has earned the name of the "fierce tortoise. " It will eat fishand small crustacea, and almost any living thing it finds in the water, which is not too large for it. It is extremely expert in catching itsprey. It lies concealed at the bottom among the roots of flags andnymphĉ; and when any small fish chances to pass it, by means of its longneck darts out its head and seizes upon its unsuspecting victim. Oncethe bill of the "fierce turtle" has closed upon any object its hold issecure. You may cut its head off, but otherwise it cannot be forced tolet go, until it has either captured its prey or taken the piece withit. It will "nip" a stout walking-cane between its mandibles, as if itwas no more than a rush. A very good story is told of a thief and a tortoise. The thief wasprowling about the larder of an hotel in search of plunder, when he cameupon a large market-basket filled with provisions. He immediatelyinserted his hand to secure the contents, when he felt himself suddenlyseized by the fingers, and bitten so severely, that he was fain to drawback his hand in the most hasty manner possible. But along with the handhe drew out a "snapping" turtle. To get rid of the "ugly customer" washis next care; but, in spite of all his efforts, the turtle held on, determined to have the finger. The scuffle, and the shouts which paincompelled the thief to give utterance to, awoke the landlord and therest of the household; and before the thief could disengage himself andescape, he was secured and given into custody. Well, it was just a tortoise of this species, a "snapping turtle, " andone of the largest size, that our travellers now saw doing battle withthe caïman. The caïman was not one of large size, else the turtle wouldhave fled from it, not that even the largest caïmans are feared by thefull-grown _carapas_. No; the strong plate-armour of the latter protectsthem both from the teeth and tail of this antagonist. The jaguar, withhis pliable paws and sharp subtle claws, is to them a more dreadedassailant than the crocodile or caïman. The one in question was some six or seven feet long, and altogether notmuch heavier than the turtle itself. It was not for the purpose ofeating each other they fought. No--their strife was evidently on othergrounds. No doubt the caïman had been attempting to plunder the new-laideggs of the tortoise, and the latter had detected him in the act. At allevents, the struggle must have been going on for some time, for the sandwas torn up, and scored, in many places, by the sharp claws of both. The battle appeared to be still at its height when our party arrived onthe spot. Neither tortoise nor caïman paid any attention to theirpresence, but fought on pertinaciously. The aim of the caïman appearedto be to get the head of the tortoise in his mouth; but whenever heattempted this, the latter suddenly drew his head within the shell, andrepeatedly disappointed him. The tortoise, on its part, rose atintervals upon its hind-feet, and making a dash forward, would dartforth its long neck, and clutch at the softer parts of its antagonist'sbody just under the throat. Several times it had succeeded in thismanoeuvre, and each time it had brought the piece with it, so that thecaïman was already somewhat mangled. Another manoeuvre of the tortoisewas to seize the tail of its antagonist. Instinct seemed to teach itthat this was a vulnerable part, and for the purpose of reaching thetail, it constantly kept crawling and edging round towards it. Now, there is no movement so difficult for a reptile of the crocodilekind as to turn its body on dry land. The peculiar formation of thevertebrĉ, both of its neck and spine, renders this movement difficult;and in "changing front, " the reptile is forced to describe a full circlewith its unwieldy body--in fact to turn "all of a piece. " The tortoise, therefore, had the advantage, and, after several efforts, he at lengthsucceeded in outflanking his antagonist, and getting right round to hisrear. He lost no time, but, raising himself to his full height andmaking a dart forward, seized the tail and held on. He had caught by thevery tip, and it was seen that his horny mandibles had taken a properhold. Now commenced a somewhat ludicrous scene. The caïman, though but a smallone, with the immense muscular power which he possessed in his tail, ifnot able to detach his antagonist, was able to give him a sound shaking, and the turtle was seen vibrating from side to side, dragged along thesand. He held his broad yellow feet spread out on all sides, so as topreserve his equilibrium, for he well knew that to lose that would be tolose his life. Should he get turned on his back it would be all overwith him; but he carefully guarded against such a fatal catastrope. Ofcourse there were intervals when the caïman became tired, and remainedstill for a moment; and at each of these intervals the tortoise renewedhis hold, and, in fact, as our party now perceived, was slowly, thoughsurely, _eating the tail_! When this had continued a short while, the great saurian seemed todespair. The pain, no doubt, caused him to weep "crocodile's tears, "though none were seen, but his eyes glared with a lurid light, and hebegan to look around for some means of escape from his painful position. His eye fell upon the water. That promised something, although he knewfull well the turtle was as much at home there as he. At all events, hissituation could not be a worse one, and with this, or some suchreflection, he made a "dash" for the water. He was but a few feet fromit, but it cost him a good deal of pulling and dragging, and clawing thesand, before he could get into it. In fact, the tortoise knew that itsposition could not be benefited by the change, and would have preferredfighting it out on dry land, and to do this he set _his_ claws as firmlyas possible, and pulled the tail in the opposite direction! The strength of the caïman at length prevailed. He got his body into thewater, and, with a few strokes of his webbed feet, jerked the turtleafter, and both were now fairly launched. Once in the river, the caïmanseemed to gain fresh vigour. His tail vibrated violently and rapidly, throwing the tortoise from side to side until the foam floated aroundthem, and then both suddenly sank to the bottom. Whether they continued "attached, " or became "separated" there, orwhether the turtle killed the lizard, or the lizard the turtle, or "eachdid kill the other, " no one ever knew, as it is highly probable that nohuman eye ever saw either of them again. At all events, no one of _our_ party saw any more of them; and, havingwatched the surface for some time, they turned in their steps and walkedback to the camp. CHAPTER XLV. A PAIR OF VALIANT VULTURES. They had got into a part of the river that seemed to be a favouriteresort with turtles and crocodiles, and creatures of that description. At different times they saw turtles of different kinds; among others, the "painted turtle, " a beautiful species that derives its name from thefine colouring of its shell, which appears as if it had been painted inenamel. Of crocodiles, too, they saw three or four distinct species, andnot unfrequently, the largest of all, the great black crocodile (_Jacarenigra_). This was sometimes seen of the enormous length of over twentyfeet! Terrible-looking as these crocodiles are, they are not masters ofevery creature upon the river. There are even birds that can sorely vexthem, and compel them to take to the water to save themselves from afearful calamity--blindness. One day, while descending the river, our travellers were witness to anillustration of this. They were passing a wide sand-bank that shelved back from the river, with a scarcely perceptible slope, when they saw, at a distance of abouttwo hundred yards from the water's edge, a crocodile making for theriver. He looked as though he had just awoke from his torpid sleep, forhis body was caked all over with dry mud, and he seemed both hungry andthirsty. It was like enough he was coming from some inland pond, wherethe water had dried up, and he was now on his way to the river. All at once two dark shadows were seen passing over the white surface ofthe sand-bank. In the heaven two large birds were wheeling about, crossing each other in their courses, and holding their long necksdownwards, as if the crocodile was the object of their regard. The latter, on seeing them, paused; and lowered his body into a squattedor crouching attitude, as if in the birds he recognised an enemy. Andyet what could such a large creature fear from a pair of"king-vultures?" for king vultures they were, as was easily seen bytheir red-orange heads and cream-coloured plumage. What could acrocodile, full ten feet long, fear from these, even had they beeneagles, or the great condor himself? No matter; he was evidentlyfrightened at them; and each time that they drew near in their flight, he stopped and flattened his body against the sand, as if that mightconceal him. As soon as they flew off again to a more distant point oftheir aërial circle, he would once more elevate himself on his arms, andmake all haste toward the water. He had got within about an hundred yards of the river, when the birdsmade a sudden turn in the sky, and swooping down, alighted upon the sanddirectly before the snout of the crocodile. The latter stopped again, and kept his eyes fixed upon them. They did not leave him long to rest;for one of them, making a few hops towards him, came so close, that itmight have been supposed the crocodile could have seized it in his jaws. This, in fact, he attempted to do; but the wary bird threw up its broadwings, and flapped to one side out of his reach. Meanwhile, the other had hopped close up to his opposite shoulder; andwhile the crocodile was engaged with the first one, this made a dashforward, aiming its great open beak at the eye of the reptile. Thecrocodile parried the thrust by a sudden turn of his head; but he hadscarcely got round, when the second vulture, watching its opportunity, rushed forward at the other eye. It must have succeeded in pecking it, for the great lizard roared out with the pain; and rushing forward abit, writhed and lashed the sand with his tail. The vultures paid no attention to these demonstrations, but only keptout of the way of the teeth and claws of their antagonist; and then, when he became still again, both returned to the attack as before. Oneafter the other was seen dashing repeatedly forward--using both legs andwings to effect their object, and each time darting out their greatbeaks towards the eyes of the reptile. The head of the latter keptcontinuously moving from side to side; but move where it would, thebeaks of the vultures were ready to meet it, and to pierce into thesockets of those deep lurid eyes. This terrible contest lasted all the time the balza was floating by. Itwas a slow current at this place, and our travellers were a long time inpassing, so that they had a good opportunity of witnessing the strangespectacle. Long after they had glided past, they saw that the conflictcontinued. They could still perceive the black body of the reptile uponthe white sand-bank, writhing and struggling, while the flapping wingsof the vultures showed that they still kept up their terrible attack. But the head of the crocodile was no longer directed towards the water. At the first onset the reptile had used every effort to retreat in thatdirection. He knew that his only safety lay in getting into the river, and sinking beyond the reach of his adversaries. At every intervalbetween their assaults, he had been seen to crawl forward, stopping onlywhen compelled to defend himself. Now, however, his head was seen turnedfrom the water; sometimes he lay parallel with the stream; and sometimeshe appeared to be heading back for the woods, while his struggles andcontortions betrayed the agony he was undergoing. But his turning inthis way was easily accounted for. He knew not in what direction lay theriver. He could no longer see. His eyes were mutilated by the beaks ofthe birds. _He was blind!_ Guapo said the vultures would not leave him until they had made a mealof his eyes, and that was all they wanted. He would then remain onshore, perhaps without finding his way back to the water, and mostlikely be attacked by jaguars, or other preying creatures, who couldconquer him the easier now that he was deprived of his sight! As the balza glided on, Guapo told our travellers many strange storiesof crocodiles. He stated, what is well known to be true, that in therivers of South America many people are every year killed by theseravenous creatures; in fact, far more than have ever fallen victims tothe salt-sea sharks. In some places they are much fiercer than inothers; but this may arise from different species being the inhabitantsof these different places. There is the true crocodile, with long sharpsnout, and large external tusks; and the caïman, with a snout broaderand more pike-shaped; and the former is a much more courageous andman-eating creature. Both are often found in the same river; but they donot associate together, but keep in distinct bands or societies; andthey are often mistaken for each other. This may account for the difference of opinion that exists in regard tothe fierceness of these reptiles--many asserting that they are utterlyharmless, and will not attack man under any circumstances; while others, who have witnessed their attacks, of course bearing testimony to thecontrary. There are many places in South America, where the nativeswill fearlessly enter a lake or river known to be full of crocodiles, and drive these creatures aside with a piece of a stick; but there areother districts where nothing will tempt an Indian to swim across ariver infested with these reptiles. In the Amazon districts, in everyIndian village, several people may be seen who have been maimed bycrocodiles. No wonder that among author-travellers there should be sucha difference of opinion. Guapo stated, that when an Indian has been seized by a crocodile in itsgreat jaws, he has only one chance of escape, and that is, by thrustinghis fingers into the eyes of the reptile. This will invariably cause itto let go its hold, and generally frighten it, so as to enable theperson to escape. It, of course, requires great presence of mind toeffect this, as the person who has been seized will himself be in greatpain from the tearing teeth of the monster, and, perhaps, will have beendrawn under the water, before he can gather his senses. But it has oftenoccurred that Indians, and even women, have escaped in this way. The eyes of the crocodile are its most tender parts, --in fact, the onlyparts that can be made to feel pain. A crocodile may be disabled bycutting at the root of its tail, but it can only be frightened by anattack upon the eyes; and this appears to be a well-known fact, not onlyto the Indians, but to all its other enemies among the birds andquadrupeds. The young crocodiles are often attacked, and have their eyes pecked out, by the small gallinazo or "zamuro" vultures just in the same way that wehave seen one of a larger size become the victim of the more powerfulking vultures. CHAPTER XLVI. THE "GAPO. " After many days of rafting our travellers arrived in a most singularcountry. They were now approaching the mighty Amazon, and the river uponwhich they had hitherto been travelling appeared to divide into manybranches, where it formed _deltas_ with the Amazon. Every day, andsometimes two or three times in the day, they passed places where theriver forked, as though each branch passed round an island, but ourtravellers perceived that these branches did not meet again; and theyconjectured that they all fell into the Amazon by separate embouchures. They were often puzzled to know which one to take, as the main river wasnot always broadest, and they might get into one that was not navigablebelow. A curious region it was through which they passed; for, in fact, they were now travelling in the country of the "Gapo. " What is the "Gapo?" you will ask. The "Gapo, " then, is the name given tovast tracts of country upon the Amazon and some of its tributarystreams, that are annually inundated, and remain under water for severalmonths in the year. It extends for hundreds of miles along the Amazonitself, and up many of the rivers, its tributaries also, for hundreds ofmiles. But the whole country does not become one clear sheet of water, as isthe case with floods in other parts of the world. On the contrary, highas is the flood, the tree-tops and their branches rise still higher, and we have in the "Gapo" the extraordinary spectacle of a floodedforest, thousands of square miles in extent! In this forest the trees do not perish, but retain life and verdure. Infact, the trees of this part are peculiar, most of them differing inkind from the trees of any other region. There are species of palmsgrowing in the "Gapo" that are found nowhere else; and there are animalsand birds, too, that remain in this region during the whole season offlood. It has been further asserted that there are tribes of "Gapo"Indians, who live in the middle of the inundation, making theirdwellings upon the trees, and who can pass from branch to branch andtree to tree almost as nimbly as monkeys. This may or may not be true. It would not be a new thing, if true, forit is well known that the Guarano Indians, at the mouth of the Orinoco, dwell among the tops of the murichi palms during many months of theseason of flood. These people build platforms on the palms, and uponthese erect roofs, and sling their hammocks, and, with little fireplacesof mud, are enabled to cook their provisions upon them. But they havecanoes, in which they are able to go from place to place, and capturefish, upon which they principally subsist. The murichi palm furnishesthem with all the other necessaries of life. This singular tree is one of the noblest of the palms. It rises to aheight of more than one hundred feet, and grows in immense _palmares_, or palm-woods, often covering the bank of the river for miles. It is oneof those called "fan-palm"--that is, the leaves, instead of beingpinnate or feathery, have long naked stalks, at the end of which theleaflets spread out circularly, forming a shape like a fan. One of themurichi leaves is a grand sight. The leaf-stalk, or petiole, is a footthick where it sprouts from the trunk; and before it reaches theleaflets it is a solid beam of ten or twelve feet long, while thecircular fan or leaf itself is nine or ten in diameter! A single leaf ofthe murichi palm is a full load for a man. With a score of such leaves, --shining and ever verdant as they are, --atthe top of its column-like trunk, what a majestic tree is the murichipalm! But it is not more beautiful than useful. Its leaves, fruit, and stem, are all put to some use in the domestic economy of the Indians. Theleaf-stalk, when dried, is light and elastic, like the quill of abird--owing to the thin, hard, outer covering and soft internal pith. Out of the outer rind, when split off, the Indian makes baskets andwindow-blinds. The pithy part is separated into laths, about half aninch thick, with which window-shutters, boxes, bird-cages, partitions, and even entire walls, are constructed. The epidermis of the leaves furnishes the strings for hammocks and allkinds of cordage. From the fruits a favourite beverage is produced, andthese fruits are also pleasant eating, somewhat resembling apples. Theyare in appearance like pine-cones, of a red colour outside and yellowpulp. The trunk itself furnishes a pith or marrow that can be used assago; and out of the wood the Indian cuts his buoyant canoe! In short, there are tribes of Indians that not only live, in a literal sense, _on_the murichi palms, but that almost subsist on them. Although the flood had, to a considerable extent, subsided, the river inmost places was still beyond its banks; and this made it difficult forour travellers to find a place for their night-camps. Several nightsthey were obliged to sleep, as they best could, on the balza, --thelatter being secured to a tree. Sometimes, by pushing some distance upthe mouth of an "igaripé, " or creek, they were able to find dry ground, on which to encamp. During their passage through this labyrinth ofrivers, they travelled but very slowly, and their provisions were fastrunning out. There was no chance for increasing their stock, as theycould not find either wild-hogs (peccaries) or capivaras. Thesecreatures, although they can swim well enough, would only be found uponthe banks of the river, when it returned within its proper channel. Now and then Guapo brought down a parrot, a macaw, or an aracari, withhis blow-gun; but these were only temporary supplies. They had oftenheard howling monkeys in the trees, but had not been able to see them;and none of the party would have refused to eat roast-monkey now, asthey had all tried it and found it quite palatable. Guapo, blow-gun inhand, was continually peering up among the tree-tops in search ofmonkeys or other game. He was, at length, rewarded for his vigilance. One night they had pushed the balza up an "igaripé" for a hundred yardsor so, where a dry bank gave them an opportunity of landing. The creekitself was not much wider than the balza, and tall trees stood upon bothbanks. In one or two places the thorny "jacitara" palm--which is a sortof climbing plant, often hanging over the branches of othertrees--nearly reached across the stream. These curious palms had even tobe cautiously pushed to one side as the balza passed, --for the arrowyclaws upon them, if once hooked into the clothes of passengers, wouldeither have dragged the latter from off the raft, or have torn out thepiece of cloth. CHAPTER XLVII. THE ARAGUATOES. Our party had passed several of these jacitaras, made the balza fast, landed, and were just cooking their scanty supper, when they heard aband of howling monkeys afar off in the woods. There was nothing unusualin this; for these creatures are heard at all times among the forests ofthe Amazon, especially at sunrise and before sunset, or whenever thereis any appearance of the approach of a rain-storm. Our travellers would not have noticed their voices on this occasion, butthat they seemed to be approaching in that direction; and as they werecoming along the bank of the main river, Guapo concluded that onarriving at the "igaripé" they would turn up it and pass near where thebalza was, and thus he might have them within reach of his gravatána. Itwas certain they were coming down the river side--of course upon thetree-tops, and would, no doubt, turn up as Guapo expected, for the treeson the opposite side of the igaripé stood too far apart even for monkeysto spring across. After waiting for half-an-hour or so, the hideous howling of the monkeyscould be heard at no great distance, and they were taking the desiredroute. In fact, in a few minutes after, the troop appeared upon sometall trees that stood on the edge of the creek, not fifty yards fromwhere the balza was moored. They were large animals, of that lanky andslender shape that characterises the prehensile-tailed monkeys; butthese were different from the _ateles_ already mentioned. They weretrue howlers, as they had already proved by the cries they had beenuttering for the half-hour past. There are several species of howling monkeys, as we have already stated. Those that had arrived on the igaripé Guapo pronounced to be_araguatoes_. Their bodies are of a reddish-brown colour on the body andshoulders, lighter underneath, and their naked wrinkled faces are of abluish black, and with very much of the expression of an old man. Theirhair is full and bushy, and gives them some resemblance to a bear, whence their occasional name of "bear-ape, " and also their zoologicaldesignation, _Simia ursina_. The araguato is full three feet without thetail, and that powerful member is much longer. When the band made its appearance on the igaripé, they were seen to cometo a halt, all of them gathering into a great tree that stood by thewater's edge. This tree rose higher than the rest, and the most of themonkeys having climbed among the top branches, were visible from thebalza. There were about fifty in the troop, and one that seemed largerthan any of the others appeared to act as leader. Many of them werefemales, and there were not a few that had young ones, which theycarried upon their backs just as the Indian mothers and those of othersavage nations carry their children. Most of the little monkeys lay along the backs of their mothers, clasping them around the neck with their fore-arms, while their hindones girdled the middle of the body. But it was in their tails thelittle fellows seemed to place most reliance. The top parts of thesewere firmly lapped around the thick base of the tails of the old ones, and thus not only secured their seat, but made it quite impossible forthem to drop off. No force could have shaken them from this hold, without dragging out their tails or tearing their bodies to pieces, indeed, it was necessary they should be thus firmly seated, as theexertions of the mothers, --their quick motions and long springing leapsfrom tree to tree--would otherwise have been impossible. On reaching the bank of the igaripé, the araguatoes were evidently atfault. Their intention had been to proceed down along the main river, and the creek now interfered. Its water lay directly across theircourse, and how were they to get over it? Swim it, you may, say. Ha!little do you know the dread these creatures have of water. Yes; strangeto say, although many species of them pass their lives upon trees thatoverhang water, or even grow out of it, they are as much afraid of thewater beneath them as if it were fire. A cat is not half so dainty aboutwetting her feet as some monkeys are; and besides a cat can swim, whichthe monkeys cannot--at best so badly that in a few minutes they woulddrown. Strange, is it not, that among animals, those that approach nearest toman, like him are not gifted by nature with the power of swimming? It isevident, then, that that is an art left to be discovered by theintellect of man. To fall into the water would be a sad mishap for amonkey, not only on account of the ducking, but of the danger. There isnot much likelihood of an araguato falling in. Even though one branchmay have broken and failed it, in the great concave sphere which it canso quickly trace around it by means of its five long members, it is sureof finding a second. No; the araguatoes might spend a life-time in theflooded forest without even wetting a hair farther than what is wettedby the rain. From their movements, it was evident the igaripé had puzzled them; and aconsultation was called among the branches of the tall tree alreadymentioned. Upon one of the very highest sat the large old fellow who wasevidently leader of the band. His harangue was loud and long, accompanied by many gestures of his hands, head, and tail. It was, nodoubt, exceedingly eloquent. Similar speeches delivered by other oldaraguato chiefs, have been compared to the creaking of an ungreasedbullock-cart, mingled with the rumbling of the wheels! Our party thought the comparison a just one. The old chief finished atlength. Up to this point not one of the others had said a word. They allsat silent, observing perfect decorum; indeed, much greater than isobserved in the great British Parliament or the Congress of America. Occasionally one of the children might utter a slight squeak, or throwout its hand to catch a mosquito; but in such cases a slap from the pawof the mother, or a rough shaking, soon reduced it to quiet. When the chief had ended speaking, however, no debate in either Congressor Parliament could have equalled the noise that then arose. Everyaraguato seemed to have something to say, and all spoke at the sametime. If the speech of the old one was like the creaking of abullock-cart, the voices of all combined might appropriately be comparedto a whole string of these vehicles, with half the quantity of greaseand a double allowance of wheels! Once more the chief, by a sign, commanded silence, and the rest becamemute and motionless as before. This time the speech of the leader appeared to refer to the business inhand--in short, to the crossing of the igaripé. He was seen repeatedlypointing in that direction, as he spoke, and the rest followed hismotions with their eyes. CHAPTER XLVIII. BRIDGING AN IGARIPÉ. The tree upon which the araguatoes were assembled stood near the edge ofthe water, but there was another still nearer. This was also a tall treefree of branches for a great way up. On the opposite bank of the igaripéwas a very similar tree, and the long horizontal branches of the twowere separated from each other by a space of about twenty feet. It waswith these two trees that the attention of the araguatoes appeared to beoccupied; and our travellers could tell by their looks and gestures thatthey were conversing about, and calculating, the distance between theirupper branches. For what purpose? Surely they do not expect to be able to make a crossing between them? Nocreature without wings could pass from one to the other! Such were thequestions and doubts expressed by Leon, and indeed by all except Guapo, but Guapo had seen araguatoes before, and knew some of their tricks. Guapo, therefore, boldly pronounced that it was their intention to crossthe igaripé by these two trees. He was about to explain the manner inwhich they would accomplish it, when the movement commenced, andrendered his explanation quite unnecessary. At a commanding cry from the chief, several of the largest and strongestmonkeys swung themselves into the tree that stood on the edge of thewater. Here, after a moment's reconnoissance, they were seen to get upona horizontal limb--one that projected diagonally over the igaripé. Therewere no limbs immediately underneath it on the same side of the tree;and for this very reason had they selected it. Having advanced untilthey were near its top, the foremost of the monkeys let himself downupon his tail, and hung head downward. Another slipped down the body ofthe first, and clutched him around the neck and fore-arms with hisstrong tail, with his head down also. A third succeeded the second, anda fourth the third, and so on until a string of monkeys dangled from thelimb. A motion was now produced by the monkeys striking other branches withtheir feet, until the long string oscillated back and forwards like thependulum of a clock. This oscillation was gradually increased, until themonkey at the lower end was swung up among the branches of the tree onthe opposite side of the igaripé. After touching them once or twice, hediscovered that he was within reach; and the next time when he hadreached the highest point of the oscillating curve, he threw out hislong thin fore-arms, and firmly clutching the branches, held fast. The oscillation now ceased. The living chain stretched across theigaripé from tree to tree, and, curving slightly, hung like asuspension-bridge! A loud screaming, and gabbling, and chattering, andhowling, proceeded from the band of araguatoes, who, up to this time, had watched the manoeuvres of their comrades in silence--all except theold chief, who occasionally had given directions both with voice andgestures. But the general gabble that succeeded was, no doubt, anexpression of the satisfaction of all that the _bridge was built_. The troop now proceeded to cross over, one or two old ones going first, perhaps to try the strength of the bridge. Then went the motherscarrying their young on their backs, and after them the rest of theband. It was quite an amusing scene to witness, and the behaviour of themonkeys would have caused any one to laugh. Even Guapo could notrestrain his mirth at seeing those who formed the bridge biting theothers that passed over them, both on the legs and tails, until thelatter screamed again! The old chief stood at the near end and directed the crossing. Like abrave officer, he was the last to pass over. When all the others hadpreceded him, he crossed after, carrying himself in a stately anddignified manner. None dared to bite at _his_ legs. They knew betterthan play off their tricks on _him_, and he crossed quietly and withoutany molestation. Now the string still remained suspended between the trees. How were themonkeys that formed it to get themselves free again? Of course the onethat had clutched the branch with his arms might easily let go, but thatwould bring them back to the same side from which they had started, andwould separate them from the rest of the band. Those constituting thebridge would, therefore, be as far from crossing as ever! There seemed to be a difficulty here--that is, to some of ourtravellers. To the monkeys themselves there was none. They knew wellenough what they were about, and they would have got over the apparentdifficulty in the following manner:--The one at the tail end of thebridge would simply have let go his hold, and the whole string wouldthen have swung over and hung from the tree on the opposite bank, intowhich they could have climbed at their leisure. I say they _would_ havedone so had nothing interfered to prevent them from completing themanoeuvre. But an obstacle intervened which brought the affair to a verydifferent termination. Guapo had been seated along with the rest, gravatána in hand. He showedgreat forbearance in not having used the gravatána long before, for hewas all the while quite within reach of the araguatoes; but thisforbearance on his part was not of his own freewill. Don Pablo had, infact, hindered him, in order that he and the others, should have anopportunity of witnessing the singular manoeuvres of the monkeys. Beforethe scene was quite over, however, the Indian begged Don Pablo to lethim shoot, reminding him how much they stood in need of a little"monkey-meat. " This had the effect Guapo desired; the consent was given, and the gravatána was pointed diagonally upwards. Once more Guapo'scheeks were distended--once more came the strong, quick puff--and awaywent the arrow. The next moment it was seen sticking in the neck of oneof the monkeys. Now, the one which Guapo had aimed at and hit was that which had graspedthe tree on the opposite side with its arms. Why did he chose this morethan any other? Was it because it was nearer, or more exposed to view?Neither of these was the reason. It was, that had he shot any of theothers in the string--they being supported by their tails--it would nothave fallen; the tail, as we have already seen, still retaining itsprehensile power even to death. But that one which held on to the treeby its fore-arms would in a second or two be compelled from weakness tolet go, and the whole chain would drop back on the near side of theigaripé. This was just what Guapo desired, and he waited for the result. It was necessary only to wait half-a-dozen seconds. The monkey wasevidently growing weak under the influence of the _curare_, and wasstruggling to retain its hold. In a moment it must let go. The araguato at the "tail-end" of the bridge, not knowing what hadhappened, and thinking all was right for swinging himself across, slipped his tail from the branch just at the very same instant that thewounded one let go, and the whole chain fell "souse" into the water!Then the screaming and howling from those on shore, the plunging andsplashing of the monkeys in the stream, mingled with the shouts of Leon, Guapo, and the others, created a scene of noise and confusion thatlasted for several minutes. In the midst of it, Guapo threw himself intothe canoe, and with a single stroke of his paddle shot right down amongthe drowning monkeys. One or two escaped to the bank, and made off;several went to the bottom;, but three, including the wounded one, fellinto the clutches of the hunter. Of course roast-monkey was added to the supper; but none of thetravellers slept very well after it, as the araguatoes, lamenting theirlost companions, kept up a most dismal wailing throughout the whole ofthe night. CHAPTER XLIX. THE MANATI. The araguatoes, with dried plantains and cassava, were the food of ourtravellers for several days after. On the evening of the third day theyhad a change. Guapo succeeded in capturing a very large turtle, whichserved for relish at several meals. His mode of taking the turtle wassomewhat curious, and deserves to be described. The balza had been brought to the bank, and they were just mooring it, when something out on the water attracted the attention of Leon andLeona. It was a small, darkish object, and would not have been observedbut for the ripple that it made on the smooth surface of the river, andby this they could tell that it was in motion. "A water-snake!" said Leon. "Oh!" ejaculated the little Leona, "I hope not, brother Leon. " "On second thoughts, " replied Leon, "I don't think it is a snake. " Of course the object was a good distance off, else Leon and Leona wouldnot have talked so coolly about it. But their words had reached the earof Doña Isidora, and drawn her attention to what they were talkingabout. "No; it is not a snake, " said she. "I fancy it is a turtle. " Guapo up to this had been busy with Don Pablo in getting the balza madefast. The word "turtle, " however, caught his ear at once, and he lookedup, and then out on the river in the direction where Leon and Leona werepointing. As soon as his eye rested upon the moving object he replied tothe remark of Doña Isidora. "Yes, my mistress, " said he, "it is a turtle, and a big one too. Pleaseall keep quiet--I think I can get him. " How Guapo was to get the turtle was a mystery to all. The latter wasabout thirty paces distant, but it would be difficult, if notimpossible, to hit his small snout--the only part above water--with thearrow of the blow-gun. Moreover, they thought that the arrow would notpenetrate the hard, bony substance, so as to stick there and infuse itspoison into the wound. These conjectures were true enough, but his gravatána was not the weaponwhich Guapo was about to use. He had other weapons as well--a fish-spearor harpoon, and a regular bow and arrows, which he had made during hisleisure hours in the valley. The latter was the weapon with which the tortoise was to be killed. Taking the bow, and adjusting an arrow to the string, Guapo steppedforward to the water's edge. All watched him, uttering their hopes ofhis success. It was still not clear with them how the turtle was to bekilled by an arrow shot from a bow any more than by one sent from ablow-gun. Would it not glance from the shell even should he succeed inhitting it under water! Surely it would! As they stood whispering their conjectures to one another, they observedGuapo, to their great astonishment, _pointing his arrow upward_, andmaking as if he was going to discharge it in the air! This he, in fact, _did_ do a moment after; and they would have been puzzled by hisapparently strange conduct, had they not observed, in the next instant, that the arrow, after flying high up, came down again head-foremost andstuck upright in the back of the turtle! The turtle dived at once, and all of them expected to see the uprightarrow carried under water. What was their surprise as well as chagrin tosee that it had fallen out, and was floating on the surface! Of coursethe wound had only been a slight one, and the turtle would escape, andbe none the worse for it. But Guapo shared neither their surprise nor chagrin. Guapo felt surethat the turtle was his, and said nothing; but, jumping into the canoe, began to paddle himself out to where the creature had been last seen. What could he be after? thought they. As they watched him, they saw that he made for the floating arrow. "Oh!"said they, "he is gone to recover it. " That seemed probable enough, but, to their astonishment, as heapproached the weapon it took a start, and ran away from him! Somethingbelow dragged it along the water. That was clear, and they began tocomprehend the mystery. The _head_ of the arrow was still sticking inthe shell of the turtle. It was only the shaft that floated, and thatwas attached to the head by a string! The latter had been but looselyput on, so that the pressure of the water, as the turtle dived, shouldseparate it from the shaft, leaving the shaft with its cord to act as abuoy, and discover the situation of the turtle. Guapo, in his swift canoe, soon laid hold of the shaft, and after alittle careful manoeuvring, succeeded in landing his turtle high and dryupon the bank. A splendid prize it proved. It was a "jurara"tortoise--the "tataruga, " or great turtle of the Portuguese, and itsshell was full three feet in diameter. Guapo's mode of capturing the "jurara" is the same as that generallypractised by the Indians of the Amazon, although strong nets and thehook are also used. The arrow is always discharged upwards, and therange calculated with such skill, that it falls vertically on the shellof the turtle, and penetrates deep enough to stick, and detach itselffrom the shaft. This mode of shooting is necessary, else the juraracould not be killed by an arrow, because it never shows more than thetip of its snout above water, and any arrow hitting it in a directcourse would glance harmlessly from its shell. A good bowman among theIndians will rarely miss shooting in this way, --long practice and nativeskill enabling him to guess within an inch of where his weapon willfall. In the towns of the Lower Amazon, where turtles are brought to market, asmall square hole may be observed in the shells of these creatures. Thatis the mark of the arrow-head. Guapo lost no time in turning his turtle inside out, and converting partof it into a savoury supper, while the remainder was fried intosausage-meat, and put away for the following day. But on that following day a much larger stock of sausage-meat wasprocured from a very different animal, and that was a "cow. " "How?" you exclaim, --"a cow in the wild forests of the Amazon! Why, youhave said that no cattle--either cows or horses--can exist there withoutman to protect them, else they would be devoured by pumas, jaguars, andbats. Perhaps they had arrived at some settlement where cows were kept?" Not a bit of it; your conjecture, my young friend, is quite astray. There was not a civilised settlement for many hundreds of miles fromwhere Guapo got his cow--nor a cow neither, of the sort you are thinkingof. But there are more kinds of cows than one; and, perhaps, you mayhave heard of a creature called the "fish-cow?" Well, that is the sortof cow I am speaking of. Some term it the "sea-cow, " but this is animproper name for it, since it also inhabits fresh-water riversthroughout all tropical America. It is known as the _Manati_, and thePortuguese call it "_peixe boi_, " which is only "fish-cow" done intoPortuguese. It is a curious creature the fish-cow, and I shall offer you a shortdescription of it. It is usually about seven feet in length, and fiveround the thickest part of the body, which latter is quite smooth, andtapers off into a horizontal flat tail, semicircular in shape. There areno hind-limbs upon the animal, but just behind the head are two powerfulfins of an oval shape. There is no neck to be perceived; and the head, which is not very large, terminates in a large mouth and fleshy lips, which are not unlike those of a cow: hence its name of "cow-fish. " Thereare stiff bristles on the upper lip, and a few thinly scattered hairsover the rest of the body. Behind the oval fins are two _mammĉ_, orbreasts, from which, when pressed, flows a stream of beautiful whitemilk. Both eyes and ears are very small in proportion to the size of theanimal, but, nevertheless, it has full use of these organs, and is noteasily approached by its enemy. The colour of the skin is a dusky lead, with some flesh-coloured markson the belly, and the skin itself is an inch thick at its thickest part, on the back. Beneath the skin is a layer of fat, of great, thickness, which makes excellent oil when boiled. As we have said, the manati hasno appearance of hind-limbs. Its fore-limbs, however, are highlydeveloped for a water animal. The bones in them correspond to those inthe human arm, having five fingers with the joints distinct, yet soenclosed in an inflexible sheath that not a joint can be moved. The cow-fish feeds on grass, coming in to the borders of the lakes andrivers to procure it. It can swim very rapidly by means of its flat tailand strong fins, and is not so easily captured as might be supposed. Allthe art of the hunter is required to effect its destruction. The harpoonis the weapon usually employed, though sometimes they are caught instrong nets stretched across the mouths of rivers or the narrow arms oflakes. The flesh of the manati is much esteemed, and tastes somewhatbetween beef and pork, altogether different from "fish. " Fried in itsown oil, and poured into pots or jars, it can be preserved for manymonths. As already stated, on the day after Guapo shot the turtle--in fact, thenext morning--just as they were going to shove off, some of the party, in gazing from the edge of the balza, noticed a queer-looking animal inthe clear water below. It was no other than a "fish-cow;" and, as theycontinued to examine it more attentively, they were astonished toobserve that, with its short paddle-like limbs, it hugged two miniaturemodels of itself close to its two breasts. These were the "calves" inthe act of suckling, for such is the mode in which the manati nourishesher young. All the others would have watched this spectacle for a while, interestedin the maternal and filial traits thus exhibited by a subaqueouscreature, but while they stood looking into the water, somethingglanced before their eyes, and glided with a plunge to the bottom. Itwas the harpoon of Guapo. Blood rose to the surface immediately, and there was a considerablesplashing as the strong manati made its attempt to escape; but the headof the harpoon was deeply buried in its flesh, and, with the attachedcord, Guapo soon hauled the animal ashore. It was as much as he and DonPablo could do to drag it on dry land; but the knife soon took it topieces; and then several hours were spent in making it fit forpreservation. Its fat and flesh yielded enough to fill every sparevessel our travellers had got; and, when all were filled, the balza waspushed off, and they continued their voyage without any fear of shortrations for some time to come. CHAPTER L. THE CLOSING CHAPTER. After many days of difficult navigation the balza floated upon the broadand mighty Amazon, whose yellowish-olive flood flowed yet fifteenhundred miles farther to the Atlantic Ocean. The current was in most places over four miles an hour, and thenavigation smooth and easy--so that our travellers rarely made less thanfifty miles a-day. There was considerable monotony in the landscape, onaccount of the absence of mountains, as the Amazon, through most of itscourse, runs through a level plain. The numerous bends and suddenwindings of the stream, however, continually opening out into new andcharming vistas, and the ever-changing variety of vegetation, formedsources of delight to the travellers. Almost every day they passed the mouth of some tributary river--many ofthese appearing as large as the Amazon itself. Our travellers werestruck with a peculiarity in relation to these rivers--that is, theirvariety of colour. Some were whitish, with a tinge of olive, like theAmazon itself; others were blue and transparent; while a third kind hadwaters as black as ink. Of the latter class is the great river of theRio Negro--which by means of a tributary (the Cassiquiare) joins theAmazon with the Orinoco. Indeed, the rivers of the Amazon valley have been classed into _white_, _blue_, and _black_. _Red_ rivers, such as are common in the northerndivision of the American continent, do not exist in the valley of theAmazon. There appears to be no other explanation for this difference in thecolour of rivers, except by supposing that they take their hue from thenature of the soil through which these channels run. But the _white_ rivers, as the Amazon itself, do not appear to be ofthis hue merely because they are "muddy. " On the contrary, they derivetheir colour, or most of it, from some impalpable substance held in astate of irreducible solution. This is proved from the fact, that evenwhen these waters enter a reservoir, and the earthy matter is allowed tosettle, they still retain the same tinge of yellowish olive. There aresome white rivers, as the Rio Branco, whose waters are almost as whiteas milk itself! The _blue_ rivers of the Amazon valley are those with clear transparentwaters, and the courses of these lie through rocky countries where thereis little or no alluvium to render them turbid. The _black_ streams are the most remarkable of all. These, when deep, look like rivers of ink; and when the bottom can be seen, which isusually a sandy one, the sand has the appearance of gold. Even whenlifted in a vessel, the water retains its inky tinge, and resembles thatwhich may be found in the pools of peat-bogs. It is a generalsupposition in South America that the black-water rivers get theircolour from the extract of sarsaparilla roots growing on their banks. Itis possible the sarsaparilla roots may have something to do with it, incommon with both the roots and leaves of many other vegetables. No otherexplanation has yet been found to account for the dark colour of theserivers, except the decay of vegetable substances carried in theircurrent; and it is a fact that all the black-water streams run throughthe most thickly wooded regions. A curious fact may be mentioned of the black rivers; that is, thatmosquitoes--the plague of tropical America--are not found on theirbanks. This is not only a curious, but an important fact, and might besufficient to determine any one on the choice of a settlement. You maydeem a mosquito a very small thing, and its presence a triflingannoyance. Let me tell you that settlements have been broken up anddeserted on account of the persecution experienced from these littleinsects! They are the real "wild beasts" of South America, far more tobe dreaded than pumas, or crocodiles, or snakes, or even the fiercejaguar himself. Day after day our travellers kept on their course, meeting with manyincidents and adventures--too many to be recorded in this little volume. After passing the mouth of the Rio Negro, they began to get a peep nowand then of high land, and even mountains, in the distance; for thevalley of the Amazon, on approaching its mouth, assumes a differentcharacter from what it has farther up-stream. These mountains bendtowards it both from the Brazilian country on the south, and from Guianaon the north, and these are often visible from the bosom of the streamitself. It was about a month from their entering the main stream of the Amazon, and a little more than two from the first launching of their vessel, when the balza was brought alongside the wharf of Grand Para, and DonPablo and his party stepped on shore at this Brazilian town. Here, ofcourse, Don Pablo was a free man--free to go where he pleased--free todispose of his cargo as he thought best. But he did _not_ dispose of itat Grand Para. A better plan presented itself. He was enabled to freight part of avessel starting for New York, and thither he went, taking his family andcargo along with him. In New York he obtained a large price for hisbark, roots, and beans; in fact, when all were disposed of, he foundhimself nearly twenty thousand dollars to the good. With this to liveupon, he determined to remain in the great Republic of the North untilsuch time as his own dear Peru might be freed from the Spanishoppressor. Ten years was the period of his exile. At the end of that time theSpanish-American provinces struck almost simultaneously for liberty; andin the ten years' struggle that followed, not only Don Pablo, butLeon--now a young man--bore a conspicuous part. Both fought by the sideof Bolivar at the great battle of Junin, which crowned the patriot armywith victory. At the close of the War of Independence, Don Pablo was a general ofdivision, while Leon had reached the grade of a colonel. But as soon asthe fighting was over, both resigned their military rank, as they weremen who did not believe in soldiering as a _mere profession_. In fact, they regarded it as an unbecoming profession in time of peace, and inthis view _I_ quite agree with them. Don Pablo returned to his studies; but Leon organised an expedition of_cascarilleros_, and returned to the Montaña, where for many years heemployed himself in "bark-hunting. " Through this he became one of therichest of Peruvian "ricos. " Guapo, who at this time did not look a year older than when firstintroduced, was as tough and sinewy as ever, and was at the head of thecascarilleros; and many a _coceada_ did Guapo afterwards enjoy with hismountain friend the "vaquero" while passing backward and forward betweenCuzco and the Montaña. Doña Isidora lived for a long period an ornament to her sex, and thelittle Leona had _her_ day as the "belle of Cuzco. " But Leon and Leona both got married at length; and were you to visitCuzco at the present time, you might see several little Leons andLeonas, with round black eyes, and dark waving hair--all of themdescendants from our family of-- "FOREST EXILES. " THE BUSH-BOYS, OR ADVENTURES IN THE WILDS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA. CHAPTER I. THE BOERS. Hendrik Von Bloom was a _boer_. When I called Hendrik Von Bloom a boer, I did not mean him anydisrespect. Quite the contrary. All the same it may be well to explain that Mynheer Hendrik had notalways been a boer. He could boast of a somewhat higher condition--thatis, he could boast of a better education than the mere Cape farmerusually possesses, as well as some experience in wielding the sword. Hewas not a native of the colony, but of Holland; and he had found his wayto the Cape, not as a poor adventurer seeking his fortune, but as anofficer in a Dutch regiment then stationed there. His soldier-service in the colony was not of long duration. A certaincherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Gertrude--the daughter of a rich boer--hadtaken a liking to the young lieutenant; and he in his turn became vastlyfond of her. The consequence was, that they got married. Gertrude'sfather dying shortly after, the large farm, with its full stock ofhorses, and Hottentots, broad-tailed sheep, and long-horned oxen, becamehers. This was an inducement for her soldier-husband to lay down thesword and turn "vee-boer, " or stock farmer, which he consequently did. These incidents occurred many years previous to the English becomingmasters of the Cape colony. When that event came to pass, Hendrik VonBloom was already a man of influence in the colony and "field-cornet" ofhis district, which lay in the beautiful county of Graaf Reinet. He wasthen a widower, the father of a small family. The wife whom he hadfondly loved, --the cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Gertrude--no longerlived. History will tell you how the Dutch colonists, discontented with Englishrule, rebelled against it. The ex-lieutenant and field-cornet was one ofthe most prominent among these rebels. History will also tell you howthe rebellion was put down; and how several of those compromised werebrought to execution. Von Bloom escaped by flight; but his fine propertyin the Graaf Reinet was confiscated and given to another. Many years after we find him living in a remote district beyond thegreat Orange River, leading the life of a "trek-boer, "--that is, anomade farmer, who has no fixed or permanent abode, but moves with hisflocks from place to place, wherever good pastures and water may tempthim. From about this time dates my knowledge of the field-cornet and hisfamily. Of his history previous to this I have stated all I know, butfor a period of many years after I am more minutely acquainted with it. Most of its details I received from the lips of his own son. I wasgreatly interested, and indeed instructed, by them. They were my firstlessons in African zoology. Believing, boy reader, that they might also instruct and interest you, Ihere lay them before you. You are not to regard them as merely fanciful. The descriptions of the wild creatures that play their parts in thislittle history, as well as the acts, habits, and instincts assigned tothem, you may regard as true to Nature. Young Von Bloom was a student ofNature, and you may depend upon the fidelity of his descriptions. Disgusted with politics, the field-cornet now dwelt on the remotefrontier--in fact, beyond the frontier, for the nearest settlement wasan hundred miles off. His "kraal" was in a district bordering the greatKalihari desert--the Saära of Southern Africa. The region around, forhundreds of miles, was uninhabited, for the thinly-scattered, half-humanBushmen who dwelt within its limits, hardly deserved the name ofinhabitants any more than the wild beasts that howled around them. I have said that Von Bloom now followed the occupation of a "trek-boer. "Farming in the Cape colony consists principally in the rearing ofhorses, cattle, sheep, and goats; and these animals form the wealth ofthe boer. But the stock of our field-cornet was now a very small one. The proscription had swept away all his wealth, and he had not beenfortunate in his first essays as a nomade grazier. The emancipation law, passed by the British Government, extended not only to the Negroes ofthe West India Islands, but also to the Hottentots of the Cape; and theresult of it was that the servants of Mynheer Von Bloom had desertedhim. His cattle, no longer properly cared for, had strayed off. Some ofthem fell a prey to wild beasts--some died of the _murrain_. His horses, too, were decimated by that mysterious disease of Southern Africa, the"horse-sickness;" while his sheep and goats were continually beingattacked and diminished in numbers by the earth-wolf, the wild hound, and the hyena. A series of losses had he suffered until his horses, oxen, sheep, and goats, scarce counted altogether an hundred head. Avery small stock for a vee-boer, or South African grazier. Withal our field-cornet was not unhappy. He looked around upon his threebrave sons--Hans, Hendrik, and Jan. He looked upon his cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired daughter, Gertrude, the very type and image of what hermother had been. From these he drew the hope of a happier future. His two eldest boys were already helps to him in his daily occupations;the youngest would soon be so likewise. In Gertrude, --or "Trüey, " as shewas endearingly styled, --he would soon have a capital housekeeper. Hewas not unhappy therefore; and if an occasional sigh escaped him, it waswhen the face of little Trüey recalled the memory of that Gertrude whowas now in heaven. But Hendrik Von Bloom was not the man to despair. Disappointments hadnot succeeded in causing his spirits to droop. He only applied himselfmore ardently to the task of once more building up his fortune. For himself he had no ambition to be rich. He would have been contentedwith the simple life he was leading, and would have cared but little toincrease his wealth. But other considerations weighed upon hismind--the future of his little family. He could not suffer his childrento grow up in the midst of the wild plains without education. No; they must one day return to the abodes of men, to act their part inthe drama of social and civilised life. This was his design. But how was this design to be accomplished? Though his so called act oftreason had been pardoned, and he was now free to return within thelimits of the colony, he was ill prepared for such a purpose. His poorwasted stock would not suffice to set him up within the settlements. Itwould scarce keep him a month. To return would be to return a beggar! Reflections of this kind sometimes gave him anxiety. But they also addedenergy to his disposition, and rendered him more eager to overcome theobstacles before him. During the present year he had been very industrious. In order that hiscattle should be provided for in the season of winter he had planted alarge quantity of maize and buckwheat, and now the crops of both were inthe most prosperous condition. His garden, too, smiled, and promised aprofusion of fruits, and melons, and kitchen vegetables. In short, thelittle homestead where he had fixed himself for a time, was a miniatureoäsis; and he rejoiced day after day, as his eyes rested upon theripening aspect around him. Once more he began to dream ofprosperity--once more to hope that his evil fortunes had come to an end. Alas! It was a false hope. A series of trials yet awaited him--a seriesof misfortunes that deprived him of almost everything he possessed, andcompletely changed his mode of existence. Perhaps these occurrences could hardly be termed misfortunes, since inthe end they led to a happy result. But you may judge for yourself, boy reader, after you have heard the"history and adventures" of the "trek-boer" and his family. CHAPTER II. THE KRAAL. The ex-field-cornet was seated in front of his _kraal_--for such is thename of a South African homestead. From his lips protruded a large pipe, with its huge bowl of _meerschaum_. Every boer is a smoker. Notwithstanding the many losses and crosses of his past life, there wascontentment in his eye. He was gratified by the prosperous appearance ofhis crops. The maize was now "in the milk, " and the ears, folded withinthe papyrus-like husks, looked full and large. It was delightful to hearthe rustling of the long green blades, and see the bright golden tasselswaving in the breeze. The heart of the farmer was glad as his eyeglanced over his promising crop of "mealies. " But there was another promising crop that still more gladdened hisheart--his fine children. There they are--all around him. Hans--the oldest--steady, sober Hans, at work in the well-stockedgarden; while the diminutive but sprightly imp Jan, the youngest, islooking on, and occasionally helping his brother. Hendrik--the dashingHendrik, with bright face and light curling hair--is busy among thehorses, in the "horse-kraal;" and Trüey--the beautiful, cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Trüey--is engaged with her pet--a fawn of the springbokgazelle--whose bright eyes rival her own in their expression ofinnocence and loveliness. Yes, the heart of the field-cornet is glad as he glances from one to theother of these his children--and with reason. They are all fair to lookupon, --all give promise of goodness. If their father feels an occasionalpang, it is, as we have already said, when his eye rests upon thecherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Gertrude. But time has long since subdued that grief to a gentle melancholy. Itspang is short-lived, and the face of the field-cornet soon lightens upagain as he looks around upon his dear children, so full of hope andpromise. Hans and Hendrik are already strong enough to assist him in hisoccupations, --in fact, with the exception of "Swartboy, " they are theonly help he has. Who is Swartboy? Look into the horse-kraal, and you will there see Swartboy engaged, along with his young master Hendrik, in saddling a pair of horses. Youmay notice that Swartboy appears to be about thirty years old, and he isfull that; but if you were to apply a measuring rule to him, you wouldfind him not much over four feet in height! He is stoutly built, however, and would measure better in a horizontal direction. You maynotice that he is of a yellow complexion, although his name might leadyou to fancy he was black--for "Swartboy" means "black-boy. " You may observe that his nose is flat and sunk below the level of hischeeks; that his cheeks are prominent, his lips very thick, his nostrilswide, his face beardless, and his head almost hairless--for the smallkinky wool-knots thinly scattered over his skull can scarcely bedesignated hair. You may notice, moreover, that his head is monstrouslylarge, with ears in proportion, and that the eyes are set obliquely, andhave a Chinese expression. You may notice about Swartboy all thosecharacteristics that distinguish the "Hottentots" of South Africa. Yet Swartboy is not a Hottentot--though he is of the same race. He is aBushman. How came this wild Bushman into the service of the ex-field-cornet VonBloom? About that there is a little romantic history. Thus:-- Among the savage tribes of Southern Africa there exists a very cruelcustom, --that of abandoning their aged or infirm, and often their sickor wounded, to die in the desert. Children leave their parents behindthem, and the wounded are often forsaken by their comrades with no otherprovision made for them beyond a day's food and a cup of water! The Bushman Swartboy had been the victim of this custom. He had beenupon a hunting excursion with some of his own kindred, and had beensadly mangled by a lion. His comrades, not expecting him to live, lefthim on the plain to die; and most certainly would he have perished hadit not been for our field-cornet. The latter, as he was "trekking" overthe plains, found the wounded Bushman, lifted him into his wagon, carried him on to his camp, dressed his wounds, and nursed him till hebecame well. That is how Swartboy came to be in the service of thefield-cornet. Though gratitude is not a characteristic of his race, Swartboy was notungrateful. When all the other servants ran away, he remained faithfulto his master; and since that time had been a most efficient and usefulhand. In fact, he was now the only one left, with the exception of thegirl, Totty--who was, of course, a Hottentot; and much about the sameheight, size, and colour, as Swartboy himself. We have said that Swartboy and the young Hendrik were saddling a pair ofhorses. As soon as they had finished that job, they mounted them, andriding out of the kraal, took their way straight across the plain. Theywere followed by a couple of strong, rough-looking dogs. Their purpose was to drive home the oxen and the other horses that werefeeding a good distance off. This they were in the habit of doing everyevening at the same hour, --for in South Africa it is necessary to shutup all kinds of live stock at night, to protect them from beasts ofprey. For this purpose are built several enclosures with highwalls, --"kraals, " as they are called, --a word of the same significationas the Spanish "corral, " and I fancy introduced into Africa by thePortuguese--since it is not a native term. These kraals are important structures about the homestead of a boer, almost as much so as his own dwelling-house, which of itself also bearsthe name of "kraal. " As young Hendrik and Swartboy rode off for the horses and cattle, Hans, leaving his work in the garden, proceeded to collect the sheep and drivethem home. These browsed in a different direction; but, as they werenear, he went afoot, taking little Jan along with him. Trüey having tied her pet to a post, had gone inside the house to helpTotty in preparing the supper. Thus the field-cornet was left to himselfand his pipe, which he still continued to smoke. He sat in perfect silence, though he could scarce restrain from givingexpression to the satisfaction he felt at seeing his family thusindustriously employed. Though pleased with all his children, it must beconfessed he had some little partiality for the dashing Hendrik, whobore his own name, and who reminded him more of his own youth than anyof the others. He was proud of Hendrik's gallant horsemanship, and hiseyes followed him over the plain until the riders were nearly a mileoff, and already mixing among the cattle. At this moment an object came under the eyes of Von Bloom, that at oncearrested his attention. It was a curious appearance along the lower partof the sky, in the direction in which Hendrik and Swartboy had gone, butapparently beyond them. It resembled a dun-coloured mist or smoke, as ifthe plain at a great distance was on fire! Could that be so? Had some one fired the _karoo_ bushes? Or was it acloud of dust? The wind was hardly strong enough to raise such a dust, and yet it hadthat appearance. Was it caused by animals? Might it not be the dustraised by a great herd of antelopes, --a migration of the springboks, forinstance? It extended for miles along the horizon, but Von Bloom knewthat these creatures often travel in flocks of greater extent thanmiles. Still he could not think it was that. He continued to gaze at the strange phenomenon, endeavouring to accountfor it in various ways. It seemed to be rising higher against the bluesky--now resembling dust, now like the smoke of a widely-spreadconflagration, and now like a reddish cloud. It was in the west, andalready the setting sun was obscured by it. It had passed over the sun'sdisc like a screen, and his light no longer fell upon the plain. Was itthe forerunner of some terrible storm?--of an earthquake? Such a thought crossed the mind of the field-cornet. It was not like anordinary cloud, --it was not like a cloud of dust, --it was not likesmoke. It was like nothing he had ever witnessed before. No wonder thathe became anxious and apprehensive. All at once the dark-red mass seemed to envelope the cattle upon theplain, and these could be seen running to and fro as if affrighted. Thenthe two riders disappeared under its dun shadow! Von Bloom rose to his feet, now seriously alarmed. What could it mean? The exclamation to which he gave utterance brought little Trüey andTotty from the house; and Hans with Jan had now got back with the sheepand goats. All saw the singular phenomenon, but none of them could tellwhat it was. All were in a state of alarm. As they stood gazing, with hearts full of fear, the two riders appearedcoming out of the cloud, and then they were seen to gallop forward overthe plain in the direction of the house. They came on at full speed, butlong before they had got near, the voice of Swartboy could be heardcrying out, -- "Baas Von Bloom! _da springaans are comin'!--da springaan!--daspringaan!_" CHAPTER III. THE SPRING-HAAN. "Ah _the springaan_!" cried Von Bloom, recognising the Dutch name forthe far-famed migratory locust. The mystery was explained. The singular cloud that was spreading itselfover the plain was neither more nor less than a flight of locusts! It was a sight that none of them, except Swartboy, had ever witnessedbefore. His master had often seen locusts in small quantities, and ofseveral species, --for there are many kinds of these singular insects inSouth Africa. But that which now appeared was a true migratory locust(_Gryllus devastatorius_); and upon one of its great migrations--anevent of rarer occurrence than travellers would have you believe. Swartboy knew them well; and, although he announced their approach in astate of great excitement, it was not the excitement of terror. Quite the contrary. His great thick lips were compressed athwart hisface in a grotesque expression of joy. The instincts of his wild racewere busy within him. To them a flight of locusts is not an object ofdread, but a source of rejoicing--their coming as welcome as a take ofshrimps to a Leigh fisherman, or harvest to the husband-man. The dogs, too, barked and howled with joy, and frisked about as if theywere going out upon a hunt. On perceiving the cloud, their instinctenabled them easily to recognise the locusts. They regarded them withfeelings similar to those that stirred Swartboy--for both dogs andBushmen eat the insects with avidity! At the announcement that it was only locusts, all at once recovered fromtheir alarm. Little Trüey and Jan laughed, clapped their hands, andwaited with curiosity until they should come nearer. All had heardenough of locusts to know that they were only grasshoppers that neitherbit nor stung any one, and therefore no one was afraid of them. Even Von Bloom himself was at first very little concerned about them. After his feelings of apprehension, the announcement that it was aflight of locusts was a relief, and for a while he did not dwell uponthe nature of such a phenomenon, but only regarded it with feelings ofcuriosity. Of a sudden his thoughts took a new direction. His eye rested upon hisfields of maize and buckwheat, upon his garden of melons, and fruits, and vegetables: a new alarm seized upon him; the memory of many storieswhich he had heard in relation to these destructive creatures rushedinto his mind, and as the whole truth developed itself, he turned pale, and uttered new exclamations of alarm. The children changed countenance as well. They saw that their fathersuffered; though they knew not why. They gathered inquiringly aroundhim. "Alas! alas! Lost! lost!" exclaimed he; "yes, all our crop--our labourof the year--gone, gone! O my dear children!" "How lost, father?--how gone?" exclaimed several of them in a breath. "See the springaan! they will eat up our crop--all--all!" "'Tis true, indeed, " said Hans, who being a great student had often readaccounts of the devastations committed by the locusts. The joyous countenances of all once more wore a sad expression, and itwas no longer with curiosity that they gazed upon the distant cloud, that so suddenly had clouded their joy. Von Bloom had good cause for dread. Should the swarm come on, and settleupon his fields, farewell to his prospects of a harvest. They wouldstrip the verdure from his whole farm in a twinkling. They would leaveneither seed, nor leaf, nor stalk behind them. All stood watching the flight with painful emotions. The swarm was stilla full half-mile distant. They appeared to be coming no nearer, --good! A ray of hope entered the mind of the field-cornet. He took off hisbroad felt hat, and held it up to the full stretch of his arm. The windwas blowing from the north, and the swarm was directly to the west ofthe kraal. The cloud of locusts had approached from the north, as theyalmost invariably do in the southern parts of Africa. "Yes, " said Hendrik, who having been in their midst could tell what waythey were drifting, "they came down upon us from a northerly direction. When we headed our horses homewards, we soon galloped out from them, andthey did not appear to fly after us; I am sure they were passingsouthwards. " Von Bloom entertained hopes that as none appeared due north of thekraal, the swarm might pass on without extending to the borders of hisfarm. He knew that they usually followed the direction of the wind. Unless the wind changed they would not swerve from their course. He continued to observe them anxiously. He saw that the selvedge of thecloud came no nearer. His hopes rose. His countenance grew brighter. Thechildren noticed this and were glad, but said nothing. All stoodsilently watching. An odd sight it was. There was not only the misty swarm of the insectsto gaze upon. The air above them was filled with birds--strange birdsand of many kinds. On slow, silent wing soared the brown "oricou, " thelargest of Africa's vultures; and along with him the yellow "chassefiente, " the vulture of Kolbé. There swept the bearded "lamvanger, " onbroad extended wings. There shrieked the great "Caffre eagle, " and sideby side with him the short-tailed and singular "bateleur. " There, toowere hawks of different sizes and colours, and kites cutting through theair, and crows and ravens, and many species of _insectivora_. But far more numerous than all the rest could be seen the little_springhaan-vogel_, a speckled bird of nearly the size and form of aswallow. Myriads of these darkened the air above--hundreds of themcontinually shooting down among the insects, and soaring up again eachwith a victim in its beak. "Locust-vultures" are these creatures named, though not vultures in kind. They feed exclusively on these insects, andare never seen where the locusts are not. They follow them through alltheir migrations, building their nests, and rearing their young, in themidst of their prey! It was, indeed, a curious sight to look upon, that swarm of wingedinsects, and their numerous and varied enemies; and all stood gazingupon it with feelings of wonder. Still the living cloud approached nonearer, and the hopes of Von Bloom continued to rise. The swarm kept extending to the south--in fact, it now stretched alongthe whole western horizon; and all noticed that it was gradually gettinglower down--that is, its top edge was sinking in the heavens. Were thelocusts passing off to the west? No. "Da am goin roost for da nacht--now we'll get 'em in bag-full, " saidSwartboy, with a pleased look; for Swartboy was a regular locust-eater, as fond of them as either eagle or kite, --aye, as the "springhaan-vogel"itself. It was as Swartboy had stated. The swarm was actually settling down onthe plain. "Can't fly without sun, " continued the Bushman. "Too cold now. Dey godead till da mornin. " And so it was. The sun had set. The cool breeze weakened the wings ofthe insect travellers; and they were compelled to make halt for thenight upon the trees, bushes, and grass. In a few minutes the dark mist that had hid the blue rim of the sky, wasseen no more; but the distant plain looked as if a fire had swept overit. It was thickly covered with the bodies of the insects, that gave ita blackened appearance as far as the eye could reach. The attendant birds, perceiving the approach of night, screamed forawhile, and then scattered away through the heavens. Some perched uponthe rocks, while others went to roost among the low thickets of mimosa;and now for a short interval both earth and air were silent. Von Bloom now bethought him of his cattle. Their forms were seen afaroff in the midst of the locust-covered plain. "Let 'em feed um little while, baas, " suggested Swartboy. "On what?" inquired his master. "Don't you see the grass is covered!" "On de springhaan demself, baas, " replied the Bushman; "good for fattenbig ox--better dan grass--ya, better dan _mealies_. " But it was too late to leave the cattle longer out upon the plain. Thelions would soon be abroad--the sooner because of the locusts, for theking of the beasts does not disdain to fill his royal stomach with theseinsects--when he can find them. Von Bloom saw the necessity of bringing his cattle at once to theirkraal. A third horse was saddled, which the field-cornet himself mounted, androde off, followed by Hendrik and Swartboy. On approaching the locusts they beheld a singular sight. The ground wascovered with these reddish-brown creatures, in some spots to the depthof several inches. What bushes there were were clustered with them, --allover the leaves and branches, as if swarms of bees had settled uponthem. Not a leaf or blade of grass that was not covered with theirbodies! They moved not, but remained silent, as if torpid or asleep. The cold ofthe evening had deprived them of the power of flight. What was strangest of all to the eyes of Von Bloom and Hendrik, was theconduct of their own horses and cattle. These were some distance out inthe midst of the sleeping host; but instead of being alarmed at theirodd situation, they were greedily gathering up the insects in mouthfuls, and crunching them as though they had been corn! It was with some difficulty that they could be driven off; but the roarof a lion, that was just then heard over the plain, and the repeatedapplication of Swartboy's _jambok_, rendered them more tractable, and atlength they suffered themselves to be driven home, and lodged withintheir kraals. Swartboy had provided himself with a bag, which he carried back full oflocusts. It was observed that in collecting the insects into the bag, he actedwith some caution, handling them very gingerly, as if he was afraid ofthem. It was not them he feared, but snakes which, upon such occasionsare very plenteous, and very much to be dreaded--as the Bushman fromexperience well knew. CHAPTER IV. A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS. It was a night of anxiety in the kraal of the field-cornet. Should thewind veer round to the west, to a certainty the locusts would cover hisland in the morning, and the result would be the total destruction ofhis crops. Perhaps worse than that. Perhaps the whole vegetationaround--for fifty miles or more--might be destroyed; and then how wouldhis cattle be fed? It would be no easy matter even to save their lives. They might perish before he could drive them to any other pasturage! Such a thing was by no means uncommon or improbable. In the history ofthe Cape colony many a boer had lost his flocks in this very way. Nowonder there was anxiety that night in the kraal of the field-cornet. At intervals Von Bloom went out to ascertain whether there was anychange in the wind. Up to a late hour he could perceive none. A gentlebreeze still blew from the north--from the great Kaliharidesert--whence, no doubt, the locusts had come. The moon was bright, andher light gleamed over the host of insects that darkly covered theplain. The roar of the lion could be heard mingling with the shrillscream of the jackal and the maniac laugh of the hyena. All thesebeasts, and many more, were enjoying a plenteous repast. Perceiving no change in the wind, Von Bloom became less uneasy, and theyall conversed freely about the locusts. Swartboy took a leading part inthis conversation, as he was better acquainted with the subject than anyof them. It was far from being the first flight of locusts Swartboy hadseen, and many a bushel of them had he eaten. It was natural to suppose, therefore, that he knew a good deal about them. He knew not whence they came. That was a point about which Swartboy hadnever troubled himself. The learned Hans offered an explanation of theirorigin. "They come from the desert, " said he. "The eggs from which they areproduced, are deposited in the sands or dust; where they lie until rainfalls, and causes the herbage to spring up. Then the locusts arehatched, and in their first stage are supported upon this herbage. Whenit becomes exhausted, they are compelled to go in search of food. Hencethese 'migrations, ' as they are called. " This explanation seemed clear enough. "Now I have heard, " said Hendrik, "of farmers kindling fires aroundtheir crops to keep off the locusts. I can't see how fires would keepthem off--not even if a regular fence of fire were made all round afield. These creatures have wings, and could easily fly over the fires. " "The fires, " replied Hans, "are kindled, in order that the smoke mayprevent them from alighting; but the locusts to which these accountsusually refer are without wings, called _voetgangers_ (foot-goers). Theyare, in fact, the _larvĉ_ of these locusts, before they have obtainedtheir wings. These have also their migrations, that are often moredestructive than those of the perfect insects, such as we see here. Theyproceed over the ground by crawling and leaping like grasshoppers; for, indeed, they are grasshoppers--a species of them. They keep on in onedirection, as if they were guided by instinct to follow a particularcourse. Nothing can interrupt them in their onward march unless the seaor some broad and rapid river. Small streams they can swim across; andlarge ones, too, where they run sluggishly; walls and houses they canclimb--even the chimneys--going straight over them; and the moment theyhave reached the other side of any obstacle, they continue straightonward in the old direction. "In attempting to cross broad rapid rivers, they are drowned incountless myriads, and swept off to the sea. When it is only a smallmigration, the farmers sometimes keep them off by means of fires, as youhave heard. On the contrary, when large numbers appear, even the firesare of no avail. " "But how is that, brother?" inquired Hendrik. "I can understand howfires would stop the kind you speak of, since you say they are withoutwings. But since they are so, how do they get through the fires? Jumpthem?" "No, not so, " replied Hans. "The fires are built too wide and large forthat. " "How then, brother?" asked Hendrik. "I'm puzzled. " "So am I, " said little Jan. "And I, " added Trüey. "Well, then, " continued Hans, "millions of the insects crawl into thefires and put them out!" "Ho!" cried all in astonishment. "How? Are they not burned?" "Of course, " replied Hans. "They are scorched and killed--myriads ofthem quite burned up. But their bodies crowded thickly on the fireschoke them out. The foremost ranks of the great host thus becomevictims, and the others pass safely across upon the holocaust thus made. So you see, even fires cannot stop the course of the locusts when theyare in great numbers. "In many parts of Africa, where the natives cultivate the soil, as soonas they discover a migration of these insects, and perceive that theyare heading in the direction of their fields and gardens, quite a panicis produced among them. They know that they will lose their crops to acertainty, and hence dread a visitation of locusts as they would anearthquake, or some other great calamity. " "We can well understand their feelings upon such an occasion, " remarkedHendrik, with a significant look. "The flying locusts, " continued Hans, "seem less to follow a particulardirection than their larvĉ. The former seem to be guided by the wind. Frequently this carries them all into the sea, where they perish in vastnumbers. On some parts of the coast their dead bodies have been foundwashed back to land in quantities incredible. At one place the sea threwthem upon the beach, until they lay piled up in a ridge four feet inheight, and fifty miles in length! It has been asserted by severalwell-known travellers that the effluvium from this mass tainted the airto such an extent that it was perceived one hundred and fifty milesinland!" "Heigh!" exclaimed little Jan. "I didn't think anybody had so good anose. " At little Jan's remark there was a general laugh. Von Bloom did not joinin their merriment. He was in too serious a mood just then. "Papa, " inquired little Trüey, perceiving that her father did not laugh, and thinking to draw him into the conversation, --"Papa! were these thekind of locusts eaten by John the Baptist when in the desert? His food, the Bible says, was 'locusts and wild honey. '" "I believe these are the same, " replied the father. "I think, papa, " modestly rejoined Hans, "they are not exactly the same, but a kindred species. The locust of Scripture was the true _Gryllusmigratorius_, and different from those of South Africa, though verysimilar in its habits. But, " continued he, "some writers dispute thatpoint altogether. The Abyssinians say that it was beans of thelocust-tree, and not insects, that were the food of St. John. " "What is your own opinion, Hans?" inquired Hendrik, who had a greatbelief in his brother's book-knowledge. "Why, I think, " replied Hans, "there need be no question about it. It isonly torturing the meaning of a word to suppose that St. John ate thelocust fruit, and not the insect. I am decidedly of opinion that thelatter is meant in Scripture; and what makes me think so is, that thesetwo kinds of food, 'locusts and wild honey, ' are often coupled together, as forming at the present time the subsistence of many tribes who aredenizens of the desert. Besides, we have good evidence that both wereused as food by desert-dwelling people in the days of Scripture. It is, therefore, but natural to suppose that St. John, when in the desert, wasforced to partake of this food; just as many a traveller of modern timeshas eaten of it when crossing the deserts that surround us here in SouthAfrica. "I have read a great many books about locusts, " continued Hans; "and nowthat the Bible has been mentioned, I must say for my part, I know noaccount given of these insects so truthful and beautiful as that in theBible itself. Shall I read it, papa?" "By all means, my boy, " said the field-cornet, rather pleased at therequest which his son had made, and at the tenor of the conversation. Little Trüey ran into the inner room and brought out an immense volumebound in gemsbok skin, with a couple of brass clasps upon it to keep itclosed. This was the family Bible; and here let me observe, that asimilar book may be found in the house of nearly every boer, for theseDutch colonists are a Protestant and Bible-loving people--so much so, that they think nothing of going a hundred miles, four times in theyear, to attend the _nacht-maal_, or sacramental supper! What do youthink of that? Hans opened the volume, and turned at once to the book of the prophetJoel. From the readiness with which he found the passage, it wasevident he was well acquainted with the book he held in his hands. He read as follows: "A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains; a great people and a strong: there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be any more after it, even to the years of many generations. A fire devoureth before them, and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them. The appearance of them is as the appearance of horses; and as horsemen, so shall they run. Like the noise of chariots on the tops of mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong people set in battle array. The earth shall quake before them; the heavens shall tremble; the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining. How do the beasts groan! the herds of cattle are perplexed, because they have no pasture; yea, the flocks of sheep are made desolate. " Even the rude Swartboy could perceive the poetic beauty of thisdescription. But Swartboy had much to say about the locusts, as well as the inspiredJoel. Thus spoke Swartboy:-- "Bushman no fear da springhaan. Bushman hab no garden--no maize--nobuckwheat--no nothing for da springhaan to eat. Bushman eat locusthimself--he grow fat on da locust. Ebery thing eat dem dar springhaan. Ebery thing grow fat in da locust season. Ho! den for dem springhaan!" These remarks of Swartboy were true enough. The locusts are eaten byalmost every species of animal known in South Africa. Not only do the_carnivora_ greedily devour them, but also animals and birds of the gamekind--such as antelopes, partridges, guinea-fowls, bustards, and, strange to say, the giant of all--the huge elephant--will travel formiles to overtake a migration of locusts! Domestic fowls, sheep, horses, and dogs, devour them with equal greediness. Still another strangefact--the locusts eat one another! If any one of them gets hurt, so asto impede his progress, the others immediately turn upon him and eat himup! The Bushmen and other native races of Africa submit the locusts to aprocess of cookery before eating them; and during the whole eveningSwartboy had been engaged in preparing the bagful which he hadcollected. He "cooked" them thus:-- He first boiled, or rather steamed them, for only a small quantity ofwater was put into the pot. This process lasted two hours. They werethen taken out, and allowed to dry; and after that shaken about in apan, until all the legs and wings were broken off from the bodies. Awinnowing process--Swartboy's thick lips acting as a fan--was next gonethrough; and the legs and wings were thus got rid of. The locusts werethen ready for eating. A little salt only was required to render them more palatable, when allpresent made trial of, and some of the children even liked them. Bymany, locusts prepared in this way are considered quite equal toshrimps! Sometimes they are pounded when quite dry into a sort of meal, and withwater added to them, are made into a kind of stirabout. When well dried, they will keep for a long time; and they frequentlyform the only store of food which the poorer natives have to depend uponfor a whole season. Among many tribes--particularly among those who are notagricultural--the coming of the locusts is a source of rejoicing. Thesepeople turn out with sacks, and often with pack-oxen to collect andbring them to the villages; and on such occasions vast heaps of them areaccumulated and stored, in the same way as grain! Conversing of these things the night passed on until it was time forgoing to bed. The field-cornet went out once again to observe the wind;and then the door of the little kraal was closed, and the family retiredto rest. CHAPTER V. THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. The field-cornet slept but little. Anxiety kept him awake. He turned andtossed, and thought of the locusts. He napped at intervals, and dreamtabout locusts, and crickets, and grasshoppers, and all manner of greatlong-legged, goggle-eyed insects. He was glad when the first ray oflight penetrated through the little window of his chamber. He sprang to his feet; and, scarce staying to dress himself, rushed outinto the open air. It was still dark, but he did not require to see thewind. He did not need to toss a feather or hold up his hat. The truthwas too plain. A strong breeze was blowing--it was blowing _from thewest_! Half distracted, he ran farther out to assure himself. He ran untilclear of the walls that enclosed the kraals and garden. He halted and felt the air. Alas! his first impression was correct. Thebreeze blew directly from the west--directly from the locusts. He couldperceive the effluvium borne from the hateful insects: there was nolonger cause to doubt. Groaning in spirit, Von Bloom returned to his house. He had no longerany hope of escaping the terrible visitation. His first directions were to collect all the loose pieces of linen orclothing in the house, and pack them within the family chests. What!would the locusts be likely to eat them? Indeed, yes--for these voracious creatures are not fastidious. Noparticular vegetable seems to be chosen by them. The leaves of thebitter tobacco plant appear to be as much to their liking as the sweetand succulent blades of maize! Pieces of linen, cotton, and evenflannel, are devoured by them, as though they were the tender shoots ofplants. Stones, iron, and hard wood, are about the only objects thatescape their fierce masticators. Von Bloom had heard this, Hans had read of it, and Swartboy confirmed itfrom his own experience. Consequently, everything that was at all destructible was carefullystowed away; and then breakfast was cooked and eaten in silence. There was a gloom over the faces of all, because he who was the head ofall was silent and dejected. What a change within a few hours! But theevening before the field-cornet and his little family were in the fullenjoyment of happiness. There was still one hope, though a slight one. Might it yet rain? Ormight the day turn out cold? In either case Swartboy said the locusts could not take wing--for theycannot fly in cold or rainy weather. In the event of a cold or wet daythey would have to remain as they were, and perhaps the wind mightchange round again before they resumed their flight. Oh, for a torrentof rain, or a cold cloudy day! Vain wish! vain hope! In half-an-hour after the sun rose up in Africansplendour, and his hot rays, slanting down upon the sleeping host, warmed them into life and activity. They commenced to crawl, to hopabout, and then, as if by one impulse, myriads rose into the air. Thebreeze impelled them in the direction in which it was blowing, --in thedirection of the devoted maize fields. In less than five minutes, from the time they had taken wing, they wereover the kraal, and dropping in tens of thousands upon the surroundingfields. Slow was their flight, and gentle their descent, and to the eyesof those beneath they presented the appearance of a shower of _black_snow, falling in large feathery flakes. In a few moments the ground wascompletely covered, until every stalk of maize, every plant and bush, carried its hundreds. On the outer plains too, as far as eye could see, the pasture was strewed thickly; and as the great flight had now passedto the eastward of the house, the sun's disk was again hidden by them asif by an eclipse! They seemed to move in a kind of _echelon_, the bands in the rearconstantly flying to the front, and then halting to feed, until in turnthese were headed by others that had advanced over them in a similarmanner. The noise produced by their wings was not the least curious phenomenon;and resembled a steady breeze playing among the leaves of the forest, orthe sound of a water-wheel. For two hours this passage continued. During most of that time, VonBloom and his people had remained within the house, with closed doorsand windows. This they did to avoid the unpleasant shower, as thecreatures impelled by the breeze, often strike the cheek so forcibly asto cause a feeling of pain. Moreover, they did not like treading uponthe unwelcome intruders, and crushing them under their feet, which theymust have done, had they moved about outside where the ground wasthickly covered. Many of the insects even crawled inside, through the chinks of the doorand windows, and greedily devoured any vegetable substance whichhappened to be lying about the floor. At the end of two hours Von Bloom looked forth. The thickest of theflight had passed. The sun was again shining; but upon what was heshining? No longer upon green fields and a flowery garden. No. Aroundthe house, on every side, north, south, east, and west, the eye restedonly on black desolation. Not a blade of grass, not a leaf could beseen--even the very bark was stripped from the trees, that now stood asif withered by the hand of God! Had fire swept the surface, it could nothave left it more naked and desolate. There was no garden, there were nofields of maize or buckwheat, there was no longer a farm--the kraalstood in the midst of a desert! Words cannot depict the emotions of the field-cornet at that moment. Thepen cannot describe his painful feelings. Such a change in two hours! He could scarce credit his senses--he couldscarce believe in its reality. He knew that the locusts would eat up hismaize, and his wheat, and the vegetables of his garden; but his fancyhad fallen far short of the extreme desolation that had actually beenproduced. The whole landscape was metamorphosed--grass was out of thequestion--trees, whose delicate foliage had played in the soft breezebut two short hours before, now stood leafless, scathed by worse thanwinter. The very ground seemed altered in shape! He would not have knownit as his own farm. Most certainly had the owner been absent during theperiod of the locust-flight, and approached without any information ofwhat had been passing, he would not have recognised the place of his ownhabitation! With the phlegm peculiar to his race, the field-cornet sat down, andremained for a long time without speech or movement. His children gathered near, and looked on--their young hearts painfullythrobbing. They could not fully appreciate the difficult circumstancesin which this occurrence had placed them; nor did their father himselfat first. He thought only of the loss he had sustained, in thedestruction of his fine crops; and this of itself, when we consider hisisolated situation, and the hopelessness of restoring them, was enoughto cause him very great chagrin. "Gone! all gone!" he exclaimed, in a sorrowing voice. "Oh!Fortune--Fortune--again art thou cruel!" "Papa! do not grieve, " said a soft voice; "we are all alive yet, we arehere by your side;" and with the words a little white hand was laid uponhis shoulder. It was the hand of the beautiful Trüey. It seemed as if an angel had smiled upon him. He lifted the child inhis arms, and in a paroxysm of fondness pressed her to his heart. Thatheart felt relieved. "Bring me the Book, " said he, addressing one of the boys. [Illustration: THE SHOWER OF LOCUSTS. ] The Bible was brought--its massive covers were opened--a verse waschosen--and the song of praise rose up in the midst of the desert. The Book was closed; and for some minutes all knelt in prayer. When Von Bloom again stood upon his feet, and looked around him, thedesert seemed once more to "rejoice and blossom as the rose. " Upon the human heart such is the magic influence of resignation andhumility. CHAPTER VI. "INSPANN AND TREK!" With all his confidence in the protection of a Supreme Being, Von Bloomknew that he was not to leave everything to the Divine hand. That wasnot the religion he had been taught; and he at once set about takingmeasures to extricate himself from the unpleasant position in which hewas placed. Unpleasant position! Ha! It was more than unpleasant, as thefield-cornet began to perceive. It was a position of peril! The more Von Bloom reflected, the more was he convinced of this. Therethey were, in the middle of a black naked plain, that without a greenspot extended beyond the limits of vision. How much farther he could notguess; but he knew that the devastations of the migratory locustsometimes cover an area of thousands of miles! It was certain that theone that had just swept past was on a very extensive scale. It was evident he could no longer remain by his kraal. His horses, andcattle, and sheep, could not live without food; and should these perish, upon what were he and his family to subsist? He must leave the kraal. Hemust go in search of pasture, without loss of time, --at once. Alreadythe animals, shut up beyond their usual hour, were uttering their variedcries, impatient to be let out. They would soon hunger; and it was hardto say when food could be procured for them. There was no time to be lost. Every hour was of great importance, --evenminutes must not be wasted in dubious hesitation. The field-cornet spent but a few minutes in consideration. Whethershould he mount one of his best horses, and ride off alone in search ofpasture? or whether would it not be better to "inspann" his wagon, andtake everything along with him at once? He soon decided in favour of the latter course. In any case he wouldhave been compelled to move from his present location, --to leave thekraal altogether. He might as well take everything at once. Should he go out alone, itmight cost him a long time to find grass and water--for both would benecessary--and, meantime, his stock would be suffering. These and other considerations decided him at once to "inspann" and"trek" away, with his wagon, his horses, his cattle, his sheep, his"household goods, " and his whole family circle. "Inspann and trek!" was the command: and Swartboy, who was proud of thereputation he had earned as a wagon-driver, was now seen waving hisbamboo whip like a great fishing-rod. "Inspann and trek!" echoed Swartboy, tying upon his twenty-feet lash anew cracker, which he had twisted out of the skin of the hartebeestantelope. "Inspann and trek!" he repeated, making his vast whip crack like apistol; "yes, baas, I'll inspann;" and, having satisfied himself thathis "voor-slag" was properly adjusted, Swartboy rested the bamboo handleagainst the side of the house, and proceeded to the kraal to collect theyoke-oxen. A large wagon, of a sort that is the pride and property of every Capefarmer, stood to one side of the house. It was a vehicle of the firstclass, --a regular "cap-tent" wagon, --that had been made for thefield-cornet in his better days, and in which he had been used to drivehis wife and children to the "nacht-maal, " and upon _vrolykheids_(parties of pleasure). In those days a team of eight fine horses used todraw it along at a rattling rate. Alas! oxen had now to take theirplace; for Von Bloom had but five horses in his whole stud, and thesewere required for the saddle. But the wagon was almost as good as ever it had been, --almost as good aswhen it used to be the envy of the field-cornet's neighbours, the boersof Graaf Reinet. Nothing was broken. Everything was in itsplace, --"voor-kist, " and "achter-kist, " and side-chests. There was thesnow-white cap, with its "fore-clap" and "after-clap, " and its insidepockets, all complete; and the wheels neatly carved, and the well-planedboxing and "disselboom, " and the strong "trektow" of buffalo-hide. Nothing was wanting that ought to be found about a wagon. It was, infact, the best part of the field-cornet's property that remained tohim, --for it was equal in value to all the oxen, cattle, and sheep, uponhis establishment. While Swartboy, assisted by Hendrik, was catching up the twelveyoke-oxen, and attaching them to the disselboom and trektow of thewagon, the "baas" himself, aided by Hans, Totty, and also by Trüey andlittle Jan, was loading up the furniture and implements. This was not adifficult task. The _Penates_ of the little kraal were not numerous, andwere all soon packed either inside or around the roomy vehicle. In about an hour's time the wagon was loaded up, the oxen wereinspanned, the horses saddled, and everything was ready for "trekking. " And now arose the question, _whither_? Up to this time Von Bloom had only thought of getting away from thespot--of escaping beyond the naked waste that surrounded him. It now became necessary to determine the direction in which they were totravel--a most important consideration. Important, indeed, as a little reflection showed. They might go in thedirection in which the locusts had gone, or that in which they had come?On either route they might travel for scores of miles without meetingwith a mouthful of grass for the hungry animals; and in such a casethese would break down and perish. Or the travellers might move in some other direction, and find grass, but not water. Without water, not only would they have to fear for thecattle, but for themselves--for their own lives. How important then itwas, which way they turned their faces! At first the field-cornet bethought him of heading towards thesettlements. The nearest water in that direction was almost fifty milesoff. It lay to the eastward of the kraal. The locusts had just gone thatway. They would by this time have laid waste the whole country--perhapsto the water or beyond it! It would be a great risk going in that direction. Northward lay the Kalihari desert. It would be hopeless to steer north. Von Bloom knew of no oäsis in the desert. Besides the locusts had comefrom the north. They were drifting southward when first seen; and fromthe time they had been observed passing in this last direction, they hadno doubt ere this wasted the plains far to the south. The thoughts of the field-cornet were now turned to the west. It is truethe swarm had last approached from the west; but Von Bloom fancied thatthey had first come down from the north, and that the sudden veeringround of the wind had caused them to change direction. He thought thatby trekking westward he would soon get beyond the ground they had laidbare. He knew something of the plains to the west--not much indeed, but heknew that at about forty miles distance there was a spring with goodpasturage around it, upon whose water he could depend. He had oncevisited it, while on a search for some of his cattle, that had wanderedthus far. Indeed, it then appeared to him a better situation for cattlethan the one he held, and he had often thought of moving to it. Itsgreat distance from any civilized settlement was the reason why he hadnot done so. Although he was already far beyond the frontier, he stillkept up a sort of communication with the settlements, whereas at themore distant point such a communication would be extremely difficult. Now that other considerations weighed with him, his thoughts once morereturned to this spring; and after spending a few minutes more inearnest deliberation, he decided upon "trekking" westward. Swartboy was ordered to head round, and strike to the west. The Bushmanpromptly leaped to his seat upon the voor-kist, cracked his mighty whip, straightened out his long team, and moved off over the plain. Hans and Hendrik were already in their saddles; and having cleared thekraals of all their live stock, with the assistance of the dogs, drovethe lowing and bleating animals before them. Trüey and little Jan sat beside Swartboy on the fore-chest of the wagon;and the round full eyes of the pretty springbok could be seen peepingcuriously out from under the cap-tent. Casting a last look upon his desolate kraal, the field-cornet turned hishorse's head, and rode after the wagon. CHAPTER VII. WATER! WATER! On moved the little caravan, but not in silence. Swartboy's voice andwhip made an almost continual noise. The latter could be plainly heardmore than a mile over the plain, like repeated discharges of a musket. Hendrik, too, did a good deal in the way of shouting; and even theusually quiet Hans was under the necessity of using his voice to urgethe flock forward in the right direction. Occasionally both the boys were called upon to give Swartboy a help withthe leading oxen when those became obstinate or restive, and would turnout of the track. At such times either Hans or Hendrik would gallop up, set the heads of the animals right again, and ply the "jamboks" upontheir sides. This "jambok" is a severe chastener to an obstinate ox. It is an elasticwhip made of rhinoceros or hippopotamus skin, --hippopotamus is thebest, --near six feet long, and tapering regularly from butt to tip. Whenever the led oxen misbehaved, and Swartboy could not reach them withhis long "voor-slag, " Hendrik was ever ready to tickle them with histough jambok; and, by this means, frighten them into good behaviour. Indeed, one of the boys was obliged to be at their head nearly all thetime. A leader is used to accompany most teams of oxen in South Africa. Butthose of the field-cornet had been accustomed to draw the wagon withoutone, ever since the Hottentot servants ran away; and Swartboy had drivenmany miles with no other help than his long whip. But the strange lookof everything, since the locusts passed, had made the oxen shy and wild;besides the insects had obliterated every track or path which oxen wouldhave followed. The whole surface was alike, --there was neither trace normark. Even Von Bloom himself could with difficulty recognise thefeatures of the country, and had to guide himself by the sun in the sky. Hendrik stayed mostly by the head of the leading oxen. Hans had nodifficulty in driving the flock when once fairly started. A sense offear kept all together, and as there was no herbage upon any side totempt them to stray, they moved regularly on. Von Bloom rode in front to guide the caravan. Neither he nor any of themhad made any change in their costume, but travelled in their everydaydress. The field-cornet himself was habited after the manner of mostboers, in wide leathern trousers, termed in that country "crackers;" alarge roomy jacket of green cloth, with ample outside pockets; afawn-skin waistcoat; a huge white felt hat, with the broadest of brims;and upon his feet a pair of brogans of African unstained leather, knownamong the boers as "feldt-schoenen" (country shoes). Over his saddle laya "kaross, " or robe of leopard-skins, and upon his shoulder he carriedhis "roer"--a large smooth-bore gun, about six feet in length, with anold-fashioned flint-lock, --quite a load of itself. This is the gun in which the boer puts all his trust; and although anAmerican backwoodsman would at first sight be disposed to laugh at sucha weapon, a little knowledge of the boer's country would change hisopinion of the "roer. " His own weapon--the small-bore rifle, with abullet less than a pea--would be almost useless among the large gamethat inhabits the country of the boer. Upon the "karoos" of Africa thereare crack shots and sterling hunters, as well as in the backwoods or onthe prairies of America. Curving round under the field-cornet's left arm, and resting against hisside, was an immense powder-horn--of such size as could only be producedupon the head of an African ox. It was from the country of theBechuanas, though nearly all Cape oxen grow horns of vast dimensions. Ofcourse it was used to carry the field-cornet's powder, and, if full, itmust have contained half-a-dozen pounds at least! A leopard-skin pouchhanging under his right arm, a hunting-knife stuck in his waist-belt, and a large meerschaum pipe through the band of his hat, completed theequipments of the trek-boer, Von Bloom. Hans and Hendrik were very similarly attired, armed, and equipped. Ofcourse their trousers were of dressed sheep-skin, wide--like thetrousers of all young boers--and they also wore jackets and"feldt-schoenen, " and broad-brimmed white hats. Hans carried a lightfowling-piece, while Hendrik's gun was a stout rifle of the kind knownas a "yäger" an excellent gun for large game. In this piece Hendrik hadgreat pride, and had learnt to drive a nail with it at nearly a hundredpaces. Hendrik was _par excellence_ the marksman of the party. Each ofthe boys also carried a large crescent-shaped powder-horn, with a pouchfor bullets; and over the saddle of each was strapped the robe orkaross, differing only from their father's in that his was of the rarerleopard-skin, while theirs were a commoner sort, one of antelope, andthe other of jackal-skin. Little Jan also wore wide trousers, jacket, "feldt-schoenen, " andbroad-brimmed beaver, --in fact, Jan, although scarce a yard high, was, in point of costume, a type of his father, --a diminutive type of theboer. Trüey was habited in a skirt of blue woollen stuff, with a neatbodice elaborately stitched and embroidered after the Dutch fashion, andover her fair locks she wore a light sun-hat of straw with a ribbon andstrings. Totty was very plainly attired in strong homespun, without anyhead-dress. As for Swartboy, a pair of old leathern "crackers" and astriped shirt were all the clothing he carried, beside his sheep-skinkaross. Such were the costumes of our travellers. For full twenty miles the plain was wasted bare. Not a bite could thebeasts obtain, and water there was none. The sun during the day shonebrightly, --too brightly, for his beams were as hot as within thetropics. The travellers could scarce have borne them had it not beenthat a stiff breeze was blowing all day long. But this unfortunatelyblew directly in their faces, and the dry karoos are never without dust. The constant hopping of the locusts with their millions of tiny feet hadloosened the crust of earth: and now the dust rose freely upon the wind. Clouds of it enveloped the little caravan, and rendered their forwardmovement both difficult and disagreeable. Long before night theirclothes were covered, their mouths filled, and their eyes sore. But all that was nothing. Long before night a far greater grievance wasfelt, --the want of water! In their hurry to escape from the desolate scene at the kraal, Von Bloomhad not thought of bringing a supply in the wagon--a sad oversight, in acountry like South Africa, where springs are so rare, and runningstreams so uncertain. A sad oversight indeed, as they now learnt--forlong before night they were all crying out for water--all were equallysuffering from the pangs of thirst. Von Bloom thirsted, but he did not think of himself, except that hesuffered from self-accusation. He blamed himself for neglecting to bringa needful supply of water. He was the cause of the sufferings of all therest. He felt sad and humbled on account of his thoughtless negligence. He could promise them no relief--at least none until they should reachthe spring. He knew of no water nearer. It would be impossible to reach the spring that night. It was late whenthey started. Oxen travel slowly. Half the distance would be as much asthey could make by sundown. To reach the water they would have to travel all night; but they couldnot do that for many reasons. The oxen would require to rest--the moreso that they were hungered; and now Von Bloom thought, when too late, ofanother neglect he had committed--that was, in not collecting, duringthe flight of the locusts, a sufficient quantity of them to have givenhis cattle a feed. This plan is often adopted under similar circumstances; but thefield-cornet had not thought of it: and as but few locusts fell in thetrails where the animals had been confined, they had therefore beenwithout food since the previous day. The oxen in particular showedsymptoms of weakness, and drew the wagon sluggishly; so that Swartboy'svoice and long whip were kept in constant action. But there were other reasons why they would have to halt when night cameon. The field-cornet was not so sure of the direction. He would not beable to follow it by night, as there was not the semblance of a track toguide him. Besides it would be dangerous to travel by night, for thenthe nocturnal robber of Africa--the fierce lion--is abroad. They would be under the necessity, therefore, of halting for the night, water or no water. It wanted yet half-an-hour of sundown when Von Bloom had arrived at thisdecision. He only kept on a little farther in hopes of reaching a spotwhere there was grass. They were now more than twenty miles from theirstarting-point, and still the black "spoor" of the locusts covered theplain. Still no grass to be seen, still the bushes bare of their leaves, and barked! The field-cornet began to think that he was trekking right in the waythe locusts had come. Westward he was heading for certain; he knew that. But he was not yet certain that the flight had not advanced from thewest instead of the north. If so, they might go for days before comingupon a patch of grass! These thoughts troubled him, and with anxious eyes he swept the plain infront, as well as to the right and left. A shout from the keen-eyed Bushman produced a joyful effect. He sawgrass in front. He saw some bushes with leaves! They were still a mileoff, but the oxen, as if the announcement had been understood by them, moved more briskly forward. Another mile passed over, and they came upon grass, sure enough. It wasa very scanty pasture, though--a few scattered blades growing over thereddish surface, but in no place a mouthful for an ox. There was justenough to tantalize the poor brutes without filling their stomachs. Itassured Von Bloom, however, that they had now got beyond the track ofthe locusts; and he kept on a little farther in hopes that the pasturemight get better. It did not, however. The country through which they advanced was a wild, sterile plain--almost as destitute of vegetation as that over which theyhad hitherto been travelling. It no longer owed its nakedness to thelocusts, but to the absence of water. They had no more time to search for pasture. The sun was already belowthe horizon when they halted to "outspan. " A "kraal" should have been built for the cattle, and another for thesheep and goats. There were bushes enough to have constructed them, butwho of that tired party had the heart to cut them down and drag them tothe spot? It was labour enough--the slaughtering a sheep for supper, andcollecting sufficient wood to cook it. No kraal was made. The horseswere tied around the wagon. The oxen, cattle, and sheep and goats, wereleft free to go where they pleased. As there was no pasture near totempt them, it was hoped that, after the fatigue of their long journey, they would not stray far from the camp-fire, which was kept burningthroughout the night. CHAPTER VIII. THE FATE OF THE HERD. But they did stray. When day broke, and the travellers looked around them, not a head of theoxen or cattle was to be seen. Yes, there was one, and one only--themilch-cow. Totty, after milking her on the previous night, had left hertied to a bush where she still remained. All the rest were gone, and thesheep and goats as well. Whither had they strayed? The horses were mounted, and search was made. The sheep and goats werefound among some bushes not far off; but it soon appeared that the otheranimals had gone clean away. Their spoor was traced for a mile or two. It led back on the very trackthey had come; and no doubt any longer existed that they had returned tothe kraal. To overtake them before reaching that point, would be difficult, if atall possible. Their tracks showed that they had gone off early in thenight, and had travelled at a rapid rate--so that by this time they hadmost likely arrived at their old home. This was a sad discovery. To have followed them on the thirsting andhungry horses would have been a useless work; yet without the yoke-oxenhow was the wagon to be taken forward to the spring? It appeared to be a sad dilemma they were in; but after a shortconsultation the thoughtful Hans suggested a solution of it. "Can we not attach the horses to the wagon?" inquired he. "The fivecould surely draw it on to the spring?" "What! and leave the cattle behind?" said Hendrik. "If we do not goafter them, they will be all lost, and then----" "We could go for them afterwards, " replied Hans; "but it is not betterfirst to push forward to the spring; and, after resting the horses awhile, return then for the oxen? They will have reached the kraal bythis time. There they will be sure of water anyhow, and that will keepthem alive till we get there. " The course suggested by Hans seemed feasible enough. At all events, itwas the best plan they could pursue; so they at once set about puttingit in execution. The horses were attached to the wagon in the best waythey could think of. Fortunately some old horse-harness formed part ofthe contents of the vehicle, and these were brought out and fitted on, as well as could be done. Two horses were made fast to the disselboom as "wheelers;" two others tothe trektow cut to the proper length; and the fifth horse was placed infront as a leader. When all was ready, Swartboy again mounted the voor-kist, gathered uphis reins, cracked his whip, and set his team in motion. To the delightof every one, the huge heavy-laden wagon moved off as freely as if afull team had been inspanned. Von Bloom, Hendrik, and Hans, cheered as it passed them; and setting themilch-cow and the flock of sheep and goats in motion, moved brisklyafter. Little Jan and Trüey still rode in the wagon; but the others nowtravelled afoot, partly because they had the flock to drive, and partlythat they might not increase the load upon the horses. They all suffered greatly from thirst, but they would have sufferedstill more had it not been for that valuable creature that trotted alongbehind the wagon--the cow--"old Graaf, " as she was called. She hadyielded several pints of milk, both the night before and that morning;and this well-timed supply had given considerable relief to thetravellers. The horses behaved beautifully. Notwithstanding that their harness wasboth incomplete and ill-fitted, they pulled the wagon along after themas if not a strap or buckle had been wanting. They appeared to know thattheir kind master was in a dilemma, and were determined to draw him outof it. Perhaps, too, they smelt the spring-water before them. At allevents, before they had been many hours in harness, they were drawingthe wagon through a pretty little valley covered with green, meadow-looking sward; and in five minutes more were standing halted neara cool crystal spring. In a short time all had drunk heartily, and were refreshed. The horseswere turned out upon the grass, and the other animals browsed over themeadow. A good fire was made near the spring, and a quarter of muttoncooked--upon which the travellers dined--and then all sat waiting forthe horses to fill themselves. The field-cornet, seated upon one of the wagon-chests, smoked his greatpipe. He could have been contented, but for one thing--the absence ofhis cattle. He had arrived at a beautiful pasture-ground--a sort of oäsis in thewild plains, where there were wood, water, and grass, --everything thatthe heart of a "vee-boer" could desire. It did not appear to be a largetract, but enough to have sustained many hundred head of cattle--enoughfor a very fine "stock farm. " It would have answered his purposeadmirably; and had he succeeded in bringing on his oxen and cattle, hewould at that moment have felt happy enough. But without them whatavailed the fine pasturage? What could he do there without them to stockit? They were his wealth--at least, he had hoped in time that theirincrease would become wealth. They were all of excellent breeds; and, with the exception of his twelve yoke-oxen, and one or two long-hornedBechuana bulls, all the others were fine young cows calculated soon toproduce a large herd. Of course his anxiety about these animals rendered it impossible for himto enjoy a moment's peace of mind, until he should start back in searchof them. He had only taken out his pipe to pass the time, while thehorses were gathering a bite of grass. As soon as their strength shouldbe recruited a little, it was his design to take three of the strongestof them, and with Hendrik and Swartboy, ride back to the old kraal. As soon, therefore, as the horses were ready for the road again, theywere caught and saddled up; and Von Bloom, Hendrik, and Swartboy, mounted and set out, while Hans remained in charge of the camp. They rode at a brisk rate, determined to travel all night, and, ifpossible, reach the kraal before morning. At the last point on the routewhere there was grass, they off-saddled, and allowed their horses torest and refresh themselves. They had brought with them some slices ofthe roast mutton, and this time they had not forgotten to fill theirgourd-canteens with water--so that they should not again suffer fromthirst. After an hour's halt they continued their journey. It was quite night when they arrived at the spot where the oxen haddeserted them; but a clear moon was in the sky, and they were able tofollow back the wheel-tracks of the wagon, that were quite conspicuousunder the moonlight. Now and then to be satisfied, Von Bloom requestedSwartboy to examine the spoor, and see whether the cattle had still keptthe back-track. To answer this gave no great trouble to the Bushman. Hewould drop from his horse, and bending over the ground, would reply inan instant. In every case the answer was in the affirmative. The animalshad certainly gone back to their old home. Von Bloom believed they would be sure to find them there, but shouldthey find them _alive_? That was the question that rendered him anxious. The creatures could obtain water by the spring, but food--where? Not abite would they find anywhere, and would not hunger have destroyed themall before this? Day was breaking when they came in sight of the old homestead. Itpresented a very odd appearance. Not one of the three would haverecognised it. After the invasion of the locusts it showed a veryaltered look, but now there was something else that added to thesingularity of its appearance. A row of strange objects seemed to beplaced upon the roof ridge, and along the walls of the kraals. What werethese strange objects, for they certainly did not belong to thebuildings? This question was put by Von Bloom, partly to himself, butloud enough for the others to hear him. "_Da vogels_!" (the vultures), replied Swartboy. Sure enough, it was a string of vultures that appeared along the walls. The sight of these filthy birds was more than ominous. It filled VonBloom with apprehension. What could they be doing there? There must becarrion near? The party rode forward. The day was now up, and the vultures had grownbusy. They flapped their shadowy wings, rose from the walls, andalighted at different points around the house. "Surely there must be carrion, " muttered Von Bloom. There was carrion, and plenty of it. As the horsemen drew near thevultures rose into the air, and a score of half-devoured carcasses couldbe seen upon the ground. The long curving horns that appeared besideeach carcass, rendered it easy to tell to what sort of animals theybelonged. In the torn and mutilated fragments, Von Bloom recognised theremains of his lost herd! Not one was left alive. There could be seen the remains of all of them, both cows and oxen, lying near the enclosures and on the adjacentplain--each where it had fallen. But how had they fallen? That was the mystery. Surely they could not have perished of hunger, and so suddenly? Theycould not have died of thirst, for there was the spring bubbling upjust beside where they lay? The vultures had not killed them! What then? Von Bloom did not ask many questions. He was not left long in doubt. Ashe and his companions rode over the ground, the mystery was explained. The tracks of lions, hyenas, and jackals, made everything clear enough. A large troop of these animals had been upon the ground. The scarcity ofgame, caused by the migration of the locusts, had no doubt rendered themmore than usually ravenous, and in consequence the cattle became theirprey. Where were they now? The morning light, and the sight of the houseperhaps, had driven them off. But their spoor was quite fresh. They werenear at hand, and would be certain to return again upon the followingnight. Von Bloom felt a strong desire to be revenged upon the hideous brutes;and, under other circumstances, would have remained to get a shot atthem. But just then that would have been both imprudent and unprofitablework. It would be as much as their horses could accomplish, to get backto camp that night; so, without even entering the old house, theywatered their animals, refilled their calabashes at the spring, and withheavy hearts once more rode away from the kraal. CHAPTER IX. A LION COUCHANT. They had not proceeded an hundred steps when an object appeared beforethem that caused all three to draw bridle suddenly and simultaneously. That object was a lion! He was couched upon the plain directly in the path they intended totake--the very same path by which they had come! How was it they had not seen him before? He was under the lee of a lowbush; but, thanks to the locusts, this bush was leafless, and its thinnaked twigs formed no concealment for so large a creature as a lion. Histawny hide shone conspicuously through them. The truth is, he had not been there when the horsemen passed towards thekraal. He had just fled from among the carcasses, on seeing themapproach; and had skulked around the walls, and then run to their rear. He had executed this manoeuvre to avoid an encounter--for a lion reasonsas a man does, though not to the same extent. Seeing the horsemen comethat way, his reasoning powers were strong enough to tell him that theywere not likely to return by the same path. It was more natural theyshould continue on. A man, ignorant of all the preceding eventsconnected with their journey, would have reasoned much in the same way. If you have been at all observant, you have seen other animals--such asdogs, deer, hares, or even birds--act just as the lion did on thisoccasion. Beyond a doubt the intellectual process described passed through themind of this lion; and he had skulked round to shun an encounter withthe three travellers. Now a lion will not always act so--though he will in five cases out ofsix, or oftener. Hence very erroneous views are held in relation to thecourage of this animal. Some naturalists, led away by what appears to bea feeling of envy or anger, accuse the lion of downright _cowardice_, denying him a single noble quality of all those that have from earliesttimes been ascribed to him! Others, on the contrary, assert that heknows no fear, either of man or beast; and these endow him with manyvirtues besides courage. Both parties back up their views, not by mereassertions, but by an ample narration of well-attested facts! How is this? There is a dilemma here. Both cannot be right in theiropinions? And yet, odd as it may appear to say so, both _are_ right in acertain sense. The fact is, some lions are cowardly while others are brave. The truth of this might be shown by whole pages of facts, but in thislittle volume we have no room. I think, however, boy reader, I cansatisfy you with an analogy. Answer me--Do you know any species of animal, the individuals of whichare exactly alike in character? Think over the dogs of youracquaintance! Are they alike, or anything near it? Are not some of themnoble, generous, faithful, brave to the death? Are not others mean, sneaking, cowardly curs? So is it with lions. Now, you are satisfiedthat my statement about the lions may be true. There are many causes to affect the courage and ferocity of the lion. His age--the state of his stomach--the season of the year--the hour ofthe day--but, above all, the sort of hunters that belong to the districthe inhabits. This last fact appears quite natural to those who believe in theintellect of animals, which of course _I_ do. It is perfectly naturalthat the lion, as well as other animals, should soon learn the characterof his enemy, and fear him or not, as the case may be. Is this not anold story with us? If I remember aright, we had a talk upon this subjectwhen speaking of the crocodiles of America. We remarked that thealligator of the Mississippi rarely attacks man in modern times; but ithas not been always so. The rifle of the alligator-leather hunter hastamed its ferocity. The very _same species_ in South America eatsIndians by scores every year; and the crocodile of Africa is dreaded insome parts even more than the lion! It is asserted that the lions of the Cape are more cowardly in somedistricts than in others. They are less brave in those districts wherethey have been "jaged" by the courageous and stalwart boer with his longloud-cracking "roer. " Beyond the frontier, where they have no enemy but the tiny arrow of theBushman (who does not desire to kill them!) and the slender "assegai" ofthe Bechuana, the lion has little or no fear of man. Whether the one, before the eyes of our party, was naturally a braveone, could not yet be told. He was one with a huge black mane, or"schwart-fore life, " as the boers term it; and these are esteemed thefiercest and most dangerous. The "yellow-maned, "--for there isconsiderable variety in the colour of the Cape lions--is regarded aspossessing less courage; but there is some doubt about the truth ofthis. The young "black-manes" may often be mistaken for the true yellowvariety, and their character ascribed to him to his prejudice, --for theswarthy colour of the mane only comes after the lion is many years ofage. Whether the "schwart-fore life" was a fierce and brave one, Von Bloomdid not stay to think about. It was evident that the edge had been takenoff the animal's appetite. It was evident he did not meditate an attack;and that had the horsemen chosen to make a détour, and ride peacefullyaway, they might have continued their journey without ever seeing orhearing of him again. But the field-cornet had no such intention. He had lost his preciousoxen and cattle. _That_ lion had pulled down some of them, at least. TheDutch blood was up, and if the beast had been the strongest and fiercestof his tribe, he was bound to be brought out of that bush. Ordering the others to remain where they were, Von Bloom advanced onhorseback until within about fifty paces of where the lion lay. Here hedrew up, coolly dismounted, passed the bridle over his arm, stuck hisloading-rod into the ground, and knelt down behind it. You will fancy he would have been safer to have kept his saddle, as thelion cannot overtake a horse. True; but the lion would have been safertoo. It is no easy matter to fire correctly from any horse; but when themark happens to be a grim lion, he is a well-trained steed that willstand sufficiently firm to admit of a true aim. A shot from the saddleunder such circumstances is a mere chance shot; and the field-cornet wasnot in the mood to be satisfied with a chance shot. Laying his roerathwart the loading-rod, and holding the long barrel steady against it, he took deliberate aim through the ivory sights. During all this time the lion had not stirred. The bush was between himand the hunter; but he could hardly have believed that it sufficed toconceal him. Far from it. His yellow flanks were distinctly visiblethrough the thorny twigs, and his head could be seen with his muzzle andwhiskers stained red with the blood of the oxen. No--he did not believe himself hid. A slight growl, with one or twoshakes of his tail, proved the contrary. He lay still, however, as lionsusually do, until more nearly approached. The hunter, as already stated, was full fifty yards from him. Excepting the motion of his tail, he made no other until Von Bloompulled trigger; and then with a scream he sprang several feet into theair. The hunter had been afraid of the twigs causing his bullet toglance off; but it was plain it had told truly, for he saw the fur flyfrom the side of the lion where it struck him. It was but a wound; and not deadly, as soon appeared. With long bounds the angry brute came on--lashing his tail, and showinghis fearful teeth. His mane, now on end, seemed to have doubled hissize. He looked as large as a bull! In a few seconds' time he had crossed the distance that separated himfrom the hunter, but the latter was gone far from that spot. The momenthe had delivered his fire, he leaped upon his well-trained horse, androde off towards the others. All three were for a short while together--Hendrik holding his yägercocked and ready, while Swartboy grasped his bow and arrows. But thelion dashed forward before either could fire; and they were obliged tospur and gallop out of his way. Swartboy had ridden to one side, while Von Bloom and Hendrik took theother; and the game was now between the two parties--both of which hadpulled up at some distance off. The lion, after the failure of his charge, halted, and looked first atone, then at the other--as if uncertain which to pursue. His appearance at this moment was terrible beyond expression. His wholefierce nature was roused. His mane stood erect--his tail lashed hisflanks--his mouth, widely open, showed the firm-set trenchantteeth--their white spikes contrasting with the red blood that clottedhis cheeks and snout, while his angry roaring added horror to hisappearance. But none of the three were terrified out of their senses. Hendrik atthis moment covered him with his rifle, took cool aim, and fired; whileat the same instant Swartboy sent an arrow whistling through the air. Both had aimed truly. Both bullet and arrow struck; and the shaft of thelatter could be seen sticking in the lion's thigh. The fierce brute that up to this time had exhibited the most determinedcourage, now seemed overcome with a sudden fear. Either the arrow or oneof the bullets must have sickened him with the combat; for, dropping hismop-like tail to a level with the line of his back, he broke away; and, trotting sulkily forward, sprang in at the door of the kraal! CHAPTER X. THE LION IN THE TRAP. There was something singular in the lion seeking shelter in so unusual aplace; but it showed his sagacity. There was no other cover withinconvenient distance, and to have reached any bush that would haveafforded him concealment, since the passage of the locusts, would havebeen difficult. The mounted hunters could easily have overtaken him, hadhe attempted to run off. He was aware that the house was uninhabited. Hehad been prowling around it all the night--perhaps within it--andtherefore knew what sort of a place it was. The brute's instinct was correct. The walls of the house would protecthim from the guns of his enemies at a distance; and for these toapproach near would be his advantage and their danger. An odd incident occurred as the lion entered the kraal. There was alarge window in one end of the house. Of course it was not glazed--itnever had been. A glass window is a rarity in these parts. A strongwooden shutter alone closed it. This was still hanging on its hinges, but in the hurried "flitting, " the window had been left open. The dooralso had been standing ajar. As the lion sprang in at the latter, astring of small foxy wolf-like creatures came pouring out through theformer, and ran with all their might across the plain. They werejackals! As it afterwards appeared, one of the oxen had either been chased intothe house by lions or hyenas, and killed there. His carcass had beenoverlooked by the larger carnivora, and the cunning jackals had beenmaking a quiet breakfast upon it, when so unceremoniously disturbed. The entrance of their terrible king in such angry mood, by the door, caused the fox-wolves to beat a quick retreat by the window; and theappearance of the horsemen without had still further frightened thesecowardly brutes, so that they ran away from the kraal at top speed, andnever halted until they were out of sight! The three hunters could not restrain a laugh; but their tone wassuddenly changed by another incident that happened almost at the samemoment. Von Bloom had brought with him his two fine dogs, to assist in drivingback the cattle. During the short halt the party had made by the spring, these hadfastened upon a half-eaten carcass behind the walls; and, beingextremely hungry, had stuck to it, even after the horsemen had riddenoff. Neither of the dogs had seen the lion, until the moment when thesavage brute charged forward, and was making for the kraal. The shots, the growling of the lion, and the loud wings of the vultures as theyflew off affrighted, told the dogs that something was going on in front, at which they ought to be present; and, forsaking their pleasant meal, both came bounding over the walls. They reached the open space in front, just as the lion leaped into thedoor; and without hesitation the brave noble animals rushed on, andfollowed him inside the house. For some moments there was heard a confused chorus of noises--thebarking and worrying of the dogs, the growling and roaring of the lion. Then a dull sound followed as of some heavy object dashed against thewall. Then came a mournful howl--another, another--a noise like thecrackling of bones--the "purr" of the great brute with its loud roughbass--and then a deep silence. The struggle was over. This was evident, as the dogs no longer gave tongue. Most likely they were killed. The hunters remained watching the door with feelings of intense anxiety. The laugh had died upon their lips, as they listened to those hideoussounds, the signs of the fearful combat. They called their dogs by name. They hoped to see them issue forth, even if wounded. But no. The dogscame not forth--they never came forth--they were dead! A long-continued silence followed the noise of the conflict. Von Bloomcould no longer doubt that his favourite and only dogs had been killed. Excited by this new misfortune he almost lost prudence. He was about torush forward to the door, where he might deliver his fire close to thehated enemy, when a bright idea came into the brain of Swartboy; and theBushman was heard calling out, -- "Baas! baas! we shut him up! we close da skellum up!" There was good sense in this suggestion--there was plausibility in it. Von Bloom saw this; and, desisting from his previous intention, hedetermined to adopt Swartboy's plan. But how was it to be executed? The door still hung upon its hinges, asalso the window-shutter. If they could only get hold of these, and shutthem fast, they would have the lion secure, and might destroy him attheir leisure. But how to shut either door or window in safety? That was the difficultythat now presented itself. Should they approach either, the lion would be certain to see them fromwithin; and, enraged as he now was, would be sure to spring upon them. Even if they approached on horseback to effect their purpose, they wouldnot be much safer. The horses would not stand quiet while they stretchedout to lay hold of latch or handle. All three of the animals werealready dancing with excitement. They knew the lion was inside, anoccasional growl announced his presence there--they would not approacheither door or window with sufficient coolness; and their stamping andsnorting would have the effect of bringing the angry beast out uponthem. It was clear, then, that to shut either door or window would be anoperation of great danger. So long as the horsemen were in open ground, and at some distance from the lion, they had no cause to fear; butshould they approach near and get entangled among the walls, some one ofthem would be most likely to fall a victim to the ferocious brute. Low as may be the standard of a Bushman's intellect, there is a speciespeculiar to him in which he appears to excel. In all matters ofhunter-craft, his intelligence, or instinct you might almost call it, isquite a match for the more highly-developed mind of the Caucasian. Thisarises, no doubt, from the keen and frequent exercise of thoseparticular faculties, --keen and frequent, because his very existenceoften depends on their successful employment. Huge ill-shapen head that Swartboy carried on his shoulders, there wasan ample stock of brains in it; and a life of keen endeavour to keep hisstomach supplied had taught him their exercise. At that momentSwartboy's brains came to the relief of the party. "Baas!" he said, endeavouring to restrain the impatience of his master, "vyacht um bige, mein baas! Leave it to da ole Bushy to close da door. He do it. " "How?" inquired Von Bloom. "Vyacht um bige, mein baas! no long to wait, --you see. " All three had ridden up together within less than an hundred yards ofthe kraal. Von Bloom and Hendrik sat silent, and watched the proceedingsof the Bushman. The latter drew from his pocket a clue of small cord, and, havingcarefully uncoiled it, attached one end to an arrow. He then rode up towithin thirty yards of the house, and dismounted--not directly oppositethe entrance, but a little to one side--so that the face of the woodendoor, which was fortunately but three-quarters open, was thus fairbefore him. Keeping the bridle over his arm, he now bent his bow, andsent the arrow into the woodwork of the door. There it was, stickingnear the edge, and just under the latch! As soon as Swartboy delivered the shaft, he had leaped back into hissaddle--to be ready for retreat in case the lion should charge out. Hestill, however, kept hold of the string, one end of which was attachedto the arrow. The "thud" of the arrow, as it struck the door, had drawn the attentionof the lion. Of course, none of them saw him, but his angry growl toldthem that it was so. He did not show himself, however, and was againsilent. Swartboy now drew the string taut, --first felt it with a steady pull;and then, satisfied of its strength, gave it a stronger jerk, andbrought the door to. The latch acted beautifully, and the door remainedshut even after the strain was taken off the cord. To have opened the door now the lion must have had the sagacity to liftthe latch, or else must have broken through the thick, strongplanks--neither of which things was to be feared. But the window still remained open, and through it the lion could easilyleap out. Swartboy, of course, designed closing it in the same manner ashe had done the door. But now arose a particular danger. He had only one piece of cord. Thatwas attached to the arrow that still stuck fast. How was he to detachand get possession of it? There appeared to be no other way but by going up to the door andcutting it from the shaft. In this lay the danger; for, should the lionperceive him and rush out by the window, it would be all over with theBushman. Like most of his race, Swartboy was more cunning than brave--though hewas far from being a coward. Still he was by no means inclined at thatmoment to go up to the door of the kraal. The angry growls from within would have made a stouter heart thanSwartboy's quail with fear. In this dilemma Hendrik came to his relief. Hendrik had conceived a wayof getting possession of the string, without going near the door! Calling to Swartboy to be on his guard, he rode within thirty yards ofthe entrance--but on the other side from where Swartboy was--and therehalted. At the place there stood a post with several forks upon it, thathad been used as a bridle-post. Hendrik dismounted, hooked his rein over one of these forks; rested hisyäger across another; and then, sighting the shaft of the arrow, pulledtrigger. The rifle cracked, the broken stick was seen to fly out fromthe door, and the string was set free! All were ready to gallop off; but the lion, although he growled fiercelyon hearing the shot, still lay close. Swartboy now drew in the string; and, having adjusted it to a fresharrow, moved round so as to command a view of the window. In a fewminutes the shaft had cut through the air and stuck deep into theyielding wood, and then the shutter swung round on its hinges, and wasdrawn close. All three now dismounted, ran silently and rapidly up, and secured bothdoor and shutter with strong rheins of raw hide. "Hurrah! the lion was caged. " CHAPTER XI. THE DEATH OF THE LION. Yes, the fierce brute was fairly in the trap. The three hunters breathedfreely. But how was the affair to end? Both door and window-shutter fittedstrongly and closely; and, although it was possible to glance throughthe chinks, nothing could be seen inside--since, both being shut, it wasquite dark within. Even could the lion have been seen, there was no hole through which tothrust the muzzle of a gun and fire at him. He was just as safe as hiscaptors; and, so long as the door remained closed, they could do him nomore harm than he could them. They might leave him shut up, and let him starve. He could live for awhile upon what the jackals had left, with the carcasses of the twodogs, but that would not sustain him long, and in the end he would haveto give up and miserably perish. After all, this did not seem so certainto Von Bloom and his companions. Finding that he was caged in earnest, the brute might attack the door, and with his sharp claws and teethmanage to cut his way through. But the angry field-cornet had not the slightest intention of leavingthe lion such a chance. He was determined to destroy the beast beforeleaving the ground; and he now set to thinking how this could beaccomplished in the speediest and most effectual manner. At first he thought of cutting a hole in the door with his knife, largeenough to see through and admit the barrel of his roer. Should he notsucceed in getting a view of the beast through that one, he would makeanother in the window-shutter. The two being on adjacent sides of thehouse, would give him the command of the whole interior--for the formerdwelling of the field-cornet comprised only a single apartment. Duringhis residence there, there had been two, thanks to a partition ofzebra-skins; but these had been removed, and all was now in one room. At first Von Bloom could think of no other plan to get at the enemy, andyet this one did not quite please him. It was safe enough, and, ifcarried out, could only end in the death of the lion. A hole in both door and window-shutter would enable them to fire at thebrute as many bullets as they pleased, while they would be quite securefrom his attack. But the time that would be required to cut theseholes--that was why the plan did not please the field-cornet. He and hisparty had no time to spare; their horses were weak with hunger, and along journey lay before them ere a morsel could be obtained. No, --thetime could not be spared for making a breach. Some more expeditious modeof attack must be devised. "Father, " said Hendrik, "suppose we set the house on fire?" Good. The suggestion was a good one. Von Bloom cast his eyes up to theroof--a sloping structure with long eaves. It consisted of heavy beamsof dry wood with rafters and laths, and all covered over with a thatchof rushes, a foot in thickness. It would make a tremendous blaze, andthe smoke would be likely enough to suffocate the lion even before theblaze could get at him. The suggestion of Hendrik was adopted. They prepared to fire the house. There was still a large quantity of rubbish, --the collected firewoodwhich the locusts had not devoured. This would enable them to carry outtheir purpose; and all three immediately set about hauling it up, andpiling it against the door. One might almost have fancied that the lion had fathomed their design;for, although he had been for a long while quite silent, he nowcommenced a fresh spell of roaring. Perhaps the noise of the logs, striking against the door outside, had set him at it; and, findinghimself thus shut up and baited, he had grown impatient. What he hadsought as a shelter had been turned into a trap, and he was now anxiousto get out of it. This was evident by the demonstrations he began to make. They could hearhim rushing about--passing from door to window--striking both with hishuge paws, and causing them to shake upon their hinges--all the whileuttering the most fiendish roars. Though not without some apprehensions, the three continued their work. They had their horses at hand, ready to be mounted in case the lionmight make his way through the fire. In fact, they intended to take totheir saddles--as soon as the fire should be fairly under way--and watchthe conflagration from a safe distance. They had dragged up all the bush and dry wood, and had piled them infront of the door. Swartboy had taken out his flint and steel, and wasabout to strike, when a loud scratching was heard from the inside, unlike anything that had yet reached their ears. It was the rattling ofthe lion's claws against the wall, but it had an odd sound as if theanimal was struggling violently; at the same time his voice seemedhoarse and smothered, and appeared to come from a distance. [Illustration: THE LION IN A FIX. ] What was the brute doing? They stood for a moment, looking anxiously in each other's faces. The scratching continued--the hoarse growling at intervals--but thisended at length; and then came a snort, followed by a roar so loud andclear, that all three started in affright. They could not believe thatwalls were between them and their dangerous enemy! Again echoed that horrid cry. Great Heaven! It proceeded no longer fromthe inside--it came from above them! Was the lion upon the roof? All three rushed backward a step or two, and looked up. A sight wasbefore them that rendered them almost speechless with surprise andterror. Above the funnel of the chimney appeared the head of the lion; hisglaring yellow eyes and white teeth showing more fearful from contrastwith the black soot that begrimed him. He was dragging his body up. Onefoot was already above the capstone; and with this and his teeth he waswidening the aperture around him. It was a terrible sight to behold--at least to those below. As already stated they were alarmed; and would have taken to theirhorses, had they not perceived that the animal was stuck fast! It was evident that this was the case, but it was equally evident thatin a few moments he would succeed in clearing himself from the chimney. His teeth and claws were hard at work, and the stones and mortar wereflying in all directions. The funnel would soon be down below his broadchest, and then---- Von Bloom did not stay to think what then. He and Hendrik, guns in hand, ran up near the bottom of the wall. The chimney was but a score of feetin height; the long roer was pointed upward, reaching nearly half thatdistance. The yäger was also aimed. Both cracked together. The lion'seyes suddenly closed, his head shook convulsively, his paw dropped looseover the capstone, his jaws fell open, and blood trickled down histongue. In a few moments he was dead! This was apparent to every one. But Swartboy was not satisfied, until hehad discharged about a score of his arrows at the head of the animal, causing it to assume the appearance of a porcupine. So tightly had the huge beast wedged himself, that even after death hestill remained in his singular situation. Under other circumstances he would have been dragged down for the sakeof his skin. But there was no time to spare for skinning him; andwithout further delay, Von Bloom and his companions mounted their horsesand rode off. CHAPTER XII. THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED Our travellers would have talked much about lions, but for the conditionof their horses. This made them feel uneasy. With the exception of a fewhours grazing, the poor brutes had been without food since theappearance of the locusts. Horses do not travel well upon soft grass, and of course they were now suffering severely. It would be far in the night before the horsemen could reach thecamp--although they were pushing on as fast as the horses could travel. It was quite dark, when they arrived at the spot where they had haltedthe previous evening. In fact, it was very dark. Neither moon nor starswere to be seen in the sky; and thick black clouds covered the wholecanopy of the heavens. It looked as though a rain-storm might beexpected--still no rain had as yet fallen. It was the intention of the travellers to halt at this place, and lettheir horses graze a while. With this view they all dismounted; but, after trying one or two places, they could find no grass! This appeared strange, as they had certainly observed grass at that veryspot the day before. Now there was none! The horses put their noses to the ground, but raised them up again, snorting as they did so, and evidently disappointed. They were hungryenough to have eaten grass had there been any, for they eagerly snatchedat the leaves of the bushes as they passed along! Had the locusts been there also? No. The mimosa-bushes still retainedtheir delicate foliage, which would not have been the case had thelocusts visited the spot. Our travellers were astonished that there was no grass. Surely there wassome the day before? Had they got upon a new track? The darkness prevented them from having a view of the ground; yet VonBloom could not be mistaken about the route--having travelled it fourtimes already. Though he could not see the surface, every now and againhe caught a glimpse of some tree or bush, which he had marked in hisformer journeys, and these assured him they were still upon the righttrack. Surprised at the absence of grass where they had so lately observed it, they would have examined the surface more carefully; but they wereanxious to push on to the spring, and at length gave up the idea ofhalting. The water in their gourds had been used up long before this;and both they and their horses were once more suffering from thirst. Besides, Von Bloom was not without some anxiety about the children atthe wagon. He had been separated from them now a full day and a half, and many a change might take place--many a danger might arise in thattime. In fact, he began to blame himself for having left them alone. Itwould have been better to have let his cattle perish. So thought he now. A presentiment that all was not right was gradually forming in his mind;and he grew more anxious to proceed as he reflected. They rode on in silence. It was only on Hendrik expressing a doubt aboutthe way, that the conversation recommenced. Swartboy also thought theywere taking a wrong course. At first Von Bloom assured them they were right; but after going alittle farther, he admitted that he was in doubt; and then, afteranother half-mile's travelling, he declared that he had lost the track. He could no longer recognise any one of the marks or bearings he hadtaken. The proper thing to be done under these circumstances was to leave thehorses to themselves; and this all three well knew. But the animals weresuffering the pangs of hunger, and when left to themselves, would notjourney forward, but rushed up to the mimosa-bushes, and eagerlycommenced devouring their leaves. The consequence was, that their riders were obliged to keep them goingwith whip and spur; and in that way there was no certainty of the horsestaking the right direction. After several hours' advancing, all the while in a state of suspense, and as yet no appearance of either wagon or camp-fire, the travellersresolved upon coming to a halt. It was of no use going forward. Theybelieved they could not be far from the camp; but they were now aslikely to be riding from as towards it; and they concluded at length, that it would be wiser to remain where they were until the day broke. They all dismounted therefore, and fastened their horses to thebushes--so that the animals could browse upon the leaves tillmorning--which could not now be very far off. They rolled themselves upin their karosses, and lay down upon the earth. Hendrik and Swartboy were soon asleep. Von Bloom would have slept too, for he was tired enough; but the heart of the father was too full ofanxiety to allow repose to his eyes, and he lay awake watching for thedawn. It came at length, and at the first light his eyes swept the surface ofthe surrounding country. The party had by chance halted on an eminencethat commanded a good view for miles on each side, but the field-cornethad not glanced half around the circle, when an object came before hiseyes that brought gladness to his heart. It was the white tent of thewagon! The joyful exclamation he uttered awoke the sleepers, who immediatelysprang to their feet; and all three stood gazing at the welcome sight. As they continued to gaze, their joy gradually gave place to feelings ofsurprise. Was it their wagon, after all? It certainly looked like theirs; but it was a full half-mile off, and atsuch a distance one wagon would look just like another. But what ledthem to doubt its being theirs? It was the appearance of the place inwhich they saw it. Surely it was not the same place in which they hadoutspanned! Theirs had been left in an oblong valley between two gentle ridges--insuch a valley was this one standing. Near a pool formed by aspring--here, too, was the same, for they could perceive the watershining. But in all other respects the situation was different. Thesurface of the valley in which their wagon had been left was covered, both sides and bottom, with a verdant carpet of grass; whereas the onenow before their eyes was brown and bare! Not a blade of grass was to beseen--the trees seeming to be the only things that had any verdure. Eventhe low bushes appeared to be destitute of leaves! The scene had noresemblance whatever to that where they had outspanned. It must be thecamp of some other travellers, thought they. They had fully arrived at this conclusion, when Swartboy, whose eyes hadbeen rolling about everywhere, now rested upon the ground at his feet. After a moment's observation--which the increasing light now enabled himto make--he turned suddenly to the others, and directed their attentionto the surface of the plain. This they saw was covered with tracks, asif a thousand hoofs had passed over it. In fact, it presented theappearance of a vast sheep-pen; so vast, that as far as their sightextended, they beheld the same tracked and trampled appearance! What could this mean? Hendrik did not know. Von Bloom was in doubt. Swartboy could tell at the first glance. It was no new sight to him. "All right, baas, " he said, looking up in his master's face. "Da's daole wagon!--da same spring an vley--da same place--dar hab been umtrek-boken!" "A trek-boken!" cried Von Bloom and Hendrik, in a breath. "Ya, baas--a mighty big one too; das da spoor of dem antelope--See!" Von Bloom now comprehended all. The bareness of the country, the absenceof the leaves on the lower bushes, the millions of small hoof-tracks, all were now explained. A migration of the springbok antelope, a"trek-boken, " had swept over the spot. That it was that had caused sucha mighty change. The wagon they saw was theirs, after all. They lost no time, but, catching their horses, bridled them, and roderapidly down the hill. Though somewhat relieved at seeing the wagon, Von Bloom was stillapprehensive. As they approached, they perceived the two horses standing beside it, and tied to the wheels, the cow also was there--but neither goats norsheep were in the neighbourhood. There was a fire burning in the rear of the hind-wheels, and a dark massunderneath the wagon, but no human form could be observed. The hearts of the horsemen beat loudly as they advanced. Their eyes werebent earnestly upon the wagon. They felt keen anxiety. They had got within three hundred yards, and still no one stirred--nohuman form made its appearance. Von Bloom and Hendrik now sufferedintensely. At this moment the two horses by the wagon neighed loudly; the dark massunder the wagon moved, rolled outward, rose up, and stood erect. Tottywas recognised! And now the "after-clap" of the wagon was hurriedly drawn aside, andthree young faces were seen peeping forth. A shout of joy burst from the horsemen, and the next moment little Janand Trüey leaped out from the cap-tent into the arms of theirfather--while the mutual congratulations of Hans and Hendrik, Swartboyand Totty, produced for some moments a scene of joyful confusion quiteindescribable. CHAPTER XIII. THE TREK-BOKEN. Those who remained by the camp had had their adventures too; and theirtale was by no means a merry one, for it disclosed the unpleasant fact, that the sheep and goats were all lost. The flock had been carried off, in a most singular manner; and there was but little hope of their everbeing seen again. Hans began his tale:-- "Nothing unusual occurred on the day you left us. I was busy all theafternoon in cutting 'wait-a-bit' thorns for a kraal. Totty helped me todrag them up, while Jan and Trüey looked after the flock. The animalsdid not stray out of the valley here, as the grass was good, and theyhad had enough of trotting lately. "Well--Totty and I got the kraal, as you see, all ready. So, when nightcame, we drove the flock in; and, after milking the cow and getting oursupper, we all went to bed. We were precious tired, and all of us sleptsoundly throughout the night without being disturbed. Both jackals andhyenas came around, but we knew they would not break into that kraal. " Hans pointed to the circular enclosure of thorn-bushes, that had beenwell constructed. He then proceeded with his narration:-- "In the morning we found everything right. Totty again milked the cow;and we had breakfast. The flock was let out upon the grass, and so werethe cow and the two horses. "Just about mid-day I began to think what we were to have for dinner, for the breakfast had cleared up everything. I did not like to killanother sheep, if it could be helped. So bidding Jan and Trüey stayclose by the wagon, and leaving Totty to look after the flock, I took mygun and started off in search of game. I took no horse, for I thought Isaw springboks out on the plain; and I would stalk them better afoot. "Sure enough, there were springboks. When I got out of the valley here, and had a better view, I saw what astonished me, I can assure you. "I could scarce credit my eyes. The whole plain, towards the west, appeared to be one vast crowd of animals; and by their bright yellowsides, and the snow-white hair on their rumps, I knew they werespringboks. They were all in motion, some browsing along, while hundredsof them were constantly bounding up into the air full ten feet high, andleaping on top of each other. I assure you all it was one of thestrangest sights I ever beheld, and one of the pleasantest too; for Iknew that the creatures that covered the plain, instead of being fiercewild beasts, were nothing but graceful and beautiful little gazelles. "My first thought was to get near them, and have a shot; and I was aboutto start off over the plain, when I perceived that the antelopes werecoming towards me. I saw that they were approaching with considerablerapidity; and if I only remained where I was, they would save me thetrouble of stalking in upon them. I lay down behind a bush and waited. "I had not very long to wait. In less than a quarter of an hour theforemost of the herd drew near, and in five minutes more a score of themwere within shot. "I did not fire for some time. I knew they would come still nearer; andI lay watching the motions of those pretty creatures. I took notice oftheir light handsome forms, their smooth slender limbs, theircinnamon-coloured backs, and white bellies, with the band of chestnutalong each side. I looked at the lyre-shaped horns of the bucks, andabove all, at the singular flaps on their croup, that unfolded each timethat they leaped up, displaying a profusion of long silky hair, as whiteas snow itself. "All these points I noticed, and at length, tired of admiring them, Isingled out a fine-looking doe--for I was thinking of my dinner, andknew that doe-venison was the most palatable. "After aiming carefully, I fired. The doe fell, but, to my astonishment, and others did not fly off. A few of the foremost only galloped back abit, or bounded up into the air; but they again set to browsing quiteunconcerned, and the main body advanced as before! "I loaded as quickly as I could, and brought down another, --this time abuck--but as before without frightening the rest! "I proceeded to load for the third time; but, before I had finished, thefront ranks had passed on both sides of me, and I found myself in themidst of the herd! "I saw no need for covering myself any longer behind the bush, but roseto my knees, and, firing at the nearest, brought it down also. Itscomrades did not pause, but ran over its body in thousands! "I loaded again, and stood right up on my feet. "Now for the first time it occurred to me to reflect on the strangeconduct of the springboks; for, instead of making off at my appearance, they only bounded a little to one side, and then kept on their course. They seemed possessed by some species of infatuation. I rememberedhearing that such was their way when upon one of their migrations, or"trek-bokens. " This, then, thought I, must be a "trek-boken. " "I was soon convinced of this, for the herd every moment grew thickerand thicker around me, until at length they became so crowded, that Ibegan to feel very singularly situated. Not that I was afraid of thecreatures, as they made no demonstration of using their horns upon me. On the contrary, they did all they could to get out of my way. But thenearest only were alarmed; and, as my presence in no way terrified thosethat were an hundred yards off, the latter made no attempt to giveground. Of course the nearest ones could only get a few paces from me, by pushing the others closer, or springing up over their backs--so thatwith the ones thus constantly bounding up into the air there was all thetime a ring around me two deep! "I cannot describe the strange feelings I had in this unusual situation, or how long I might have kept my place. Perhaps I might have loaded andfired away for some time, but just at the moment the sheep came into mymind. "They'll be carried away, thought I. I had heard that such a thing wascommon enough. "I saw that the antelopes were heading towards the valley--the foremostwere already into it, and would soon be on the spot, where I had justseen our little flock feeding! "In hopes of yet heading the springboks, and driving the sheep into thekraal, before the former crowded on them, I started towards the valley. But, to my chagrin, I could get no faster than the herd was going! "As I approached the creatures, to make my way through their mass, theyleaped about and sprang over one another, but could not for their livesopen a way for me as fast as I wanted one. I was so near some of themthat I could have knocked them down with my gun! "I commenced hallooing, and, brandishing the gun about, I was making alane more rapidly, when I perceived in front what appeared to be a largeopen space. I pushed forward for this, but the nearer I came to itsborder the more densely I found the creatures packed. I could only seethat it was an open space by leaping up. I did not know what was causingit. I did not stay to reflect. I only wished to get forward as rapidlyas possible, thinking about our flock. "I continued to clear my way, and at length found myself in the positionI had coveted; while the lane I had made, in getting there, closedinstantaneously behind me. I was about to rush on and take advantage ofthe bit of clear ground, when, what should I see in the centre, anddirectly before me, but a great yellow lion! "That accounted for the break in the herd. Had I known what had beencausing it, I should have fought my way in any other direction but that;but there was I, out in the open ground, the lion not ten paces from me, and a fence of springboks two deep around both of us! "I need not say I was frightened, and badly too. I did not for somemoments know how to act. My gun was still loaded--for, after thinking ofsaving our little flock, I did not care to empty it at the antelopes. Icould get one, thought I, at any time when I had secured the sheep inthe kraal. The piece, therefore, was loaded and with bullets. "Should I take aim at the lion, and fire? I asked myself this question, and was just on the point of deciding in the affirmative, when Ireflected that it would be imprudent. I observed that the lion, whoseback was turned to me, had either not seen, or as yet took no notice ofme. Should I only wound him--and from the position he was in I was notlikely to do more, --how then? I would most likely be torn to pieces. "These were my reflections, all of which scarce occupied a second oftime. I was about to "back out" or back in among the springboks, andmake my way in some other direction, and had even got near the edge, when, in looking over my shoulder, I saw the lion suddenly halt and turnround. I halted too, knowing that to be the safest plan; and, as I didso, I glanced back at the lion's eyes. "To my relief, I saw they were not upon me. He seemed to have taken somefancy in his head. His appetite, perhaps, had returned; for the nextmoment he ran a few yards, and then, rising with a terrific bound, launched himself far into the herd, and came down right upon the back ofone of the antelopes! The others sprang right and left, and a new spacewas soon opened around him. "He was now nearer than ever to where I stood, and I could see himdistinctly crouched over his victim. His claws held its quivering body, and his long teeth grasped the poor creature by the neck. But, with theexception of his tail, he was making not the slightest motion, and thatvibrated gently from side to side, just as a kitten that had caught atiny mouse. I could see, too, that his eyes were close shut, as thoughhe were asleep! "Now I had heard that under such circumstances the lion may beapproached without much danger. Not that I wished to go any nearer--forI was near enough for my gun--but it was this recollection, I believe, that put me in the notion of firing. At all events, something whisperedme I would succeed, and I could not resist trying. "The broad blind jaw of the brute was fair before me. I took aim, andpulled trigger; but, instead of waiting to see the effect of my shot, Iran right off in an opposite direction. "I did not halt till I had put several acres of antelopes between myselfand the place where I had last stood; and then I made the best of my wayto the wagon. "Long before I had reached it, I could see that Jan, and Trüey, andTotty, were safe under the tent. That gave me pleasure, but I also sawthat the sheep and goats had got mixed up with the springboks, and weremoving off with them as if they belonged to the same species! I fearthey are all lost. " "And the lion?" inquired Hendrik. "Yonder he lies!" answered Hans, modestly pointing to a yellow mass outupon the plain, over which the vultures were already beginning to hover. "Yonder he lies, you could hardly have done it better yourself, brotherHendrik. " As Hans said this, he smiled in such a manner as to show, that he had noidea of making a boast of his achievements. Hendrik was loud in acknowledging that it was a most splendid feat, andalso in regretting that he had not been on the ground to witness thewonderful migration of the springboks. But there was no time for much idle talk. Von Bloom and his party werein a very unpleasant situation. His flocks were all gone. The cow andhorses alone remained; and for these not a blade of grass had been leftby the antelopes. Upon what were they to be fed? To follow the spoor of the migratory springboks with the hope ofrecovering their flock would be quite useless. Swartboy assured them ofthis. The poor animals might be carried hundreds of miles before theycould separate themselves from the great herd, or bring theirinvoluntary journey to an end! The horses could travel but little farther. There was nought to feedthem on but the leaves of the mimosas, and this was but poor food forhungry horses. It would be fortunate if they could be kept alive untilthey should reach some pasture; and where now was pasture to be found?Locusts and antelopes between them seemed to have turned all Africa intoa desert! The field-cornet soon formed his resolution. He would remain there forthe night, and early on the morrow set out in search of some otherspring. Fortunately Hans had not neglected to secure a brace of the springboks;and their fat venison now came into general use. A roast of that, and adrink of cool water from the spring, soon refreshed the three weariedtravellers. The horses were let loose among the mimosa-trees, and allowed to shiftfor themselves; and although under ordinary circumstances they wouldhave "turned up their noses" at such food as mimosa-leaves, they nowturned them up in a different sense, and cleared the thorny brancheslike so many giraffes. Some naturalist as the "Buffon" school has stated that neither wolf, fox, hyena, nor jackal, will eat the carcass of a lion, --that their fearof the royal despot continues even after his death. The field-cornet and his family had proof of the want of truth in thisassertion. Before many hours both jackals and hyenas attacked thecarcass of the king of beasts, and in a very short while there was not amorsel of him there but his bones. Even his tawny skin was swallowed bythese ravenous creatures, and many of the bones broken by the strongjaws of the hyenas. The respect which these brutes entertain for thelion ends with his life. When dead, he is eaten by them with as muchaudacity as if he were the meanest of animals. CHAPTER XIV. SPOORING FOR A SPRING. Von Bloom was in the saddle at an early hour. Swartboy accompanied him, while all the others remained by the wagon to await his return. Theytook with them the two horses that had remained by the wagon, as thesewere fresher than the others. They rode nearly due westward. They were induced to take this directionby observing that the springboks had come from the north. By headingwestward they believed they would sooner get beyond the wastedterritory. To their great satisfaction an hour's travelling carried them clear ofthe track of the antelope migration! and although they found no water, there was excellent grass. The field-cornet now sent Swartboy back for the other horses and thecow, pointing out a place where he should bring them to graze, while hehimself continued on in search of water. After travelling some miles farther, Von Bloom perceived to the north ofhim a long line of cliff rising directly up from the plain, and runningwestward as far as he could see. Thinking that water would be morelikely to be found near these cliffs, he turned his horse's head towardsthem. As he approached nearer to their base, he was charmed with thebeautiful scenery that began to open before his eyes. He passed throughgrassy plains of different sizes, separated from each other by copses ofthe delicate-leaved mimosa; some of these forming large thickets, whileothers consisted of only a few low bushes. Towering high over themimosas, grew many trees of gigantic size, and of a species Von Bloomhad never seen before. They stood thinly upon the ground; but each, withits vast leafy head, seemed a little forest of itself. The whole country around had a soft park-like appearance, whichcontrasted well with the dark cliff that rose beyond--the latterstepping up from the plain by a precipice of several hundred feet inheight, and seemingly as vertical as the walls of a house. The fine landscape was gratifying to the eyes of the traveller--such afine country in the midst of so much barrenness; for he knew that mostof the surrounding region was little better than a wild karoo. The wholeof it to the north for hundreds of miles was a famous desert--the desertof Kalihari--and these cliffs were a part of its southern border. The"vee-boer" would have been rejoiced at such a sight under othercircumstances. But what to him now were all these fine pastures--nowthat he was no longer able to stock them? Notwithstanding the beauty of the scene, his reflections were painful. But he did not give way to despair. His present troubles weresufficiently grievous to prevent him from dwelling much on the future. His first care was to find a place where his horses might be recruited;for without them he could no longer move anywhere--without them he wouldbe helpless indeed. Water was the desired object. If water could not be found, all thisbeautiful park through which he was passing would be as valueless to himas the brown desert. Surely so lovely a landscape could not exist without that most essentialelement! So thought the field-cornet; and at the turning of every new grove hiseyes wandered over the ground in search of it. "Ho!" he joyfully exclaimed as a covey of large Namaqua partridgeswhirred up from his path. "A good sign that: they are seldom far fromwater. " Shortly after, he saw a flock of beautiful pintados, or guinea-hens, running into a copse. This was a still further proof that water wasnigh. But surest of all, on the top of a tall _cameel-doorn_ tree, henext observed the brilliant plumage of a parrot. "Now, " muttered he to himself, "I must be very near to some spring orpool. " He rode cheerfully forward: and after a little while arrived upon thecrest of an elevated ridge. Here he halted to observe the flight of thebirds. Presently he noticed a covey of partridges flying in a westerlydirection, and shortly after, another covey going the same way. Bothappeared to alight near a gigantic tree that grew in the plain, aboutfive hundred yards from the bottom of the cliffs. This tree stood apartfrom any of the others, and was by far the largest Von Bloom had yetseen. As he remained gazing at its wonderful dimensions, he observed severalpairs of parrots alighting upon it. These after chattering a while amongits branches, flew down upon the plain not far from its base. "Surely, " thought Von Bloom, "there must be water there. I shall rideforward and see. " But his horse had scarcely waited for him to form this design. Theanimal had been already dragging upon the bridle; and as soon as hishead was turned in the direction of the tree, he started forward withoutstretched neck, snorting as he rushed along. The rider, trusting to the instinct of his horse, surrendered up thebridle; and in less than five minutes both horse and rider were drinkingfrom the sweet water of a crystal fountain that gushed out within adozen yards of the tree. The field-cornet would now have hastened back to the wagon: but hethought that by allowing his horse to browse an hour or so upon thegrass, he would make the return-journey with more spirit, and in quiteas good time. He, therefore, took off the bridle, gave the animal hisliberty, while he stretched himself under the shade of the great tree. As he lay, he could not help admiring the wonderful production of naturethat towered majestically above him. It was one of the largest trees hehad ever beheld. It was of the kind known as the "nwana" tree, a speciesof _ficus_, with large sycamore-shaped leaves that grew thickly over itsmagnificent head. Its trunk was full twenty feet in diameter, rising tomore than that height without a branch, and then spreading off intonumerous limbs that stretched far out in a horizontal direction. Throughthe thick foliage Von Bloom could perceive shining egg-shaped fruits aslarge as cocoa-nuts; and upon these the parrots and several other kindsof birds appeared to be feeding. Other trees of the same species stood out upon the plain at longdistances apart; and though they were all taller than the surroundingtimber, none were so large or conspicuous as the one that grew by thespring. The field-cornet, as he enjoyed the cool shade which its umbrageousfrondage afforded, could not help thinking what an admirable spot itwould be to build a kraal. The inmates of a dwelling placed beneath itsfriendly shelter, need never dread the fierce rays of the African sun;even the rain could scarce penetrate its leafy canopy. In fact, itsdense foliage almost constituted a roof of itself. Had his cattle still remained to him, no doubt the vee-boer would haveresolved at once to make this spot his future home. But, tempting as itwas, what now could he do in such a place? To him it would be only awilderness. There was no species of industry he could follow in such aremote quarter. True, he might sustain himself and his family byhunting. He saw that game was plenteous all around. But that would bebut a sorry existence, with no promise for the future. What would hischildren do hereafter? Were they to grow up with no other end than tobecome poor hunters--no better than the wild Bushmen? No! no! no! Tomake a home there would be out of the question. A few days to recruithis wearied horses, and then he would make a struggle and trek back tothe settlements. But what after he had got back? He knew not what then. His future wasgloomy and uncertain. After indulging in such reflections for an hour or more, he bethoughthim that it was time to return to the camp; and having caught andbridled his horse, he mounted and set forth. The animal, refreshed by the sweet grass and cool water, carried himbriskly along; and in less than two hours he came up with Swartboy andHendrik where they were pasturing the horses. These were taken back to the wagon and harnessed in; and then the greatvehicle once more "treked" across the plains. Before the sun had set, the long white cap-tent was gleaming under theleafy screen of the gigantic "nwana. " CHAPTER XV. THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. The verdant carpet that stretched away around them--the green leavesupon the trees--the flowers by the fountain--the crystal water in itsbed--the black bold rocks towering up at a distance--all combined tomake a lovely picture. The eyes of the wayfarers were glad as theybeheld it; and while the wagon was outspanning, every one gave utteranceto their delightful emotions. The place seemed to please every one. Hans loved its quiet and sylvanbeauty. It was just such a place as he would choose to ramble in, book inhand, and dream away many a pleasant hour. Hendrik liked it much, because he had already observed what he termed "extensive spoor" aboutthe spot: in other words, he had noticed the tracks of many of Africa'slargest wild animals. Little Trüey was delighted to see so many beautiful flowers. There werebright scarlet geraniums, and starlike sweet-scented jessamines, and thegorgeous belladonna lily, with its large blossoms of rose-colour andwhite; and there were not only plants in flower, but bushes, and eventrees, covered with gaudy and sweetly-perfumed blossoms. There was the"sugar-bush, " the most beautiful of its family, with its largecup-shaped corollas of pink, white, and green; and there, too, was the"silver-tree" whose soft silvery leaves playing in the breeze, lookedlike a huge mass of silken flowers; and there were the mimosas coveredwith blossoms of golden yellow that filled the air with their strong andagreeable perfume. Rare forms of vegetation were around or near at hand: the arborescentaloes, with their tall flower-spikes of coral red, and euphorbias ofmany shapes; and _zamia_, with its palm-like fronds; and the soft-leaved_Strelitzia reginĉ_. All these were observed in the neighbourhood ofthis new-discovered fountain. But what received little Trüey's admiration more than any other was thebeautiful blue water-lily, which is certainly one of the loveliest ofAfrica's flowers. Close by the spring, but a little farther in thedirection of the plain, was a vley, or pool--in fact, it might have beentermed a small lake--and upon the quiet bosom of its water the sky-bluecorollas lay sleeping in all their gorgeous beauty. Trüey, leading her little pet on a string, had gone down on the bank tolook at them. She thought she could never cease gazing at such prettythings. "I hope papa will stay here a long time, " she said to her companion, little Jan. "And I hope so too. Oh! Trüey, what a fine tree yon is! Look! nuts asbig as my head, I declare. Bless me, sis! how are we to knock some ofthem down?" And so the children conversed, both delighted with the new scenes aroundthem. Although all the young people were inclined to be happy, yet they werechecked in their expression of it, by observing that there was a cloudon the brow of their father. He had seated himself under the great tree, but his eyes were upon the ground, as though he were busy with painfulreflections. All of them noticed this. His reflections were, indeed, painful--they could not well have beenotherwise. There was but one course left for him--to return to thesettlements, and begin life anew. But how to begin it? What could he do?His property all gone, he could only serve some of his richerneighbours; and for one accustomed all his life to independence, thiswould be hard indeed. He looked towards his five horses, now eagerly cropping the luxuriantgrass that grew under the shadow of the cliffs. When would they be readyto trek back again? In three or four days he might start. Fine animals, most of them were--they would carry the wagon lightly enough. So ran the reflections of the field-cornet. He little thought at themoment that those horses would never draw wagon more, nor any othervehicle. He little thought that those five noble brutes were doomed! Yet so it was. In less than a week from that time, the jackals andhyenas were quarrelling over their bones. Even at that very moment whilehe watched them browsing, the poison was entering their veins, and theirdeath-wounds were being inflicted. Alas! alas! another blow awaited VonBloom. The field-cornet had noticed, now and again, that the horses seemeduneasy as they fed. At times they started suddenly, whisked their longtails, and rubbed their heads against the bushes. "Some fly is troubling them, " thought he, and had no more uneasinessabout the matter. It was just that--just a fly that was troubling them. Had Von Bloomknown what that fly was, he would have felt a very different concernabout his horses. Had he known the nature of that little fly, he wouldhave rushed up with all his boys, caught the horses in the greatesthurry, and led them far away from those dark cliffs. But he knew not the"tsetse" fly. It still wanted some minutes of sunset, and the horses were permitted tobrowse freely, but Von Bloom observed that they were every momentgetting more excited--now striking their hoofs upon the turf, --nowrunning a length or two--and at intervals snorting angrily. At thedistance they were off--a quarter of a mile or so--Von Bloom could seenothing of what was disturbing them; but their odd behaviour at lengthinduced him to walk up to where they were. Hans and Hendrik went alongwith him. When they arrived near the spot, they were astonished at what they thenbeheld. Each horse seemed to be encompassed by a swarm of bees! They saw, however, they were not bees, but insects somewhat smaller, ofa brown colour, resembling gad-flies, and exceedingly active in theirflight. Thousands of them hovered above each horse, and hundreds couldbe seen lighting upon the heads, necks, bodies, and legs of theanimals, --in fact, all over them. They were evidently either biting orstinging them. No wonder the poor brutes were annoyed. Von Bloom suggested that they should drive the horses farther out intothe plain, where these flies did not seem to haunt. He was onlyconcerned about the annoyance which the horses received from them. Hendrik also pitied their sufferings; but Hans, alone of all the three, guessed at the truth. He had read of a fatal insect that frequented somedistricts in the interior of South Africa, and the first sight of theseflies aroused his suspicions that it might be they. He communicated his thoughts to the others, who at once shared hisalarm. "Call Swartboy hither!" said Von Bloom. The Bushman was called, and soon made his appearance, coming up from thespring. He had for the last hour been engaged in unpacking the wagon, and had taken no notice of the horses or the interest they wereexciting. As soon, however, as he got near, and saw the winged swarm whirringaround the horses, his small eyes opened to their widest extent, histhick lips fell, and his whole face yielded itself to an expression ofamazement and alarm. "What is it, Swart?" inquired his master. "Mein baas! mein baas! der duyvel um da--dar skellum is da 'tsetse!'" "And what if it be the tsetse?" "Mein Gott!--all dead--dead--ebery horse!" Swartboy then proceeded to explain, with a loud and continuous"clicking, " that the fly which they saw was fatal in its bite, that thehorses would surely die--sooner or later, according to the number ofstings they had already received; but, from the swarm of insects aroundthem, the Bushman had no doubt they had been badly stung, and a singleweek would see all five of the horses dead. "Wait, mein baas--morrow show. " And to-morrow did show; for before twelve o'clock on the next day, thehorses were swollen all over their bodies and about their heads. Theireyes were quite closed up; they refused any longer to eat, but staggeredblindly among the luxuriant grass, every now and then expressing thepain they felt by a low melancholy whimpering. It was plain to every onethey were going to die. Von Bloom tried bleeding, and various other remedies; but to no purpose. There is no cure for the bite of the tsetse fly! CHAPTER XVI. THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. Great, indeed, was now the affliction of the field-cornet. Fortuneseemed to be adverse in everything. Step by step he had been sinking foryears, every year becoming poorer in worldly wealth. He had now reachedthe lowest point--poverty itself. He owned nothing whatever. His horsesmight be regarded as dead. The cow had escaped from the tsetse byavoiding the cliffs, and keeping out upon the plain; and this animal nowconstituted his whole live stock, --his whole property! True, he still hadhis fine wagon; but of what use would that be without either oxen orhorses? a wagon without a team! Better a team without a wagon. What could he do? How was he to escape from the position he was placedin? To say the least, it was an awkward one--nearly two hundred milesfrom any civilised settlement, and no means of getting there, --no meansexcept by walking; and how were his children to walk two hundred miles?Impossible! Across desert tracts, exposed not only to terrible fatigue, but tohunger, thirst, and fierce carnivorous animals. It appeared impossiblethat they could accomplish such a task. And what else was there to be done? asked the field-cornet of himself. Were they to remain there all their lives, subsisting precariously ongame and roots? Were his children to become "Bush-boys, "--himself aBushman? With these reflections passing through his mind, no wonder that VonBloom felt deeply afflicted. "Merciful Heaven!" he exclaimed, as he sat with his head between hishands, "what will become of me and mine?" Poor Von Bloom! he had reached the lowest point of his fortunes. He had, in reality, reached the lowest point; for on that veryday, --even within that very hour--an incident occurred, that not onlygave relief to his afflicted spirit, but that promised to lay thefoundation of future wealth and prosperity. In one hour from that timethe prospects of the field-cornet had undergone a complete change, --inone hour from that time he was a happy man, and all around him were ashappy as he! You are impatient to hear how this change was effected? What littlefairy had sprung out of the spring, or come down from the cliffs, tobefriend the good field-cornet in his hour of misery? You are impatientto hear! Then you shall hear. The sun was just going down. They were all seated under the great tree, and near a fire, upon which they had cooked their supper. There was notalking, no cheerful conversation, --for the children saw that theirfather was in trouble, and that kept them silent. Not a word passedbetween them, or only an occasional whisper. It was at this moment that Von Bloom gave utterance to his sad thoughtsin words as above. As if seeking for an answer, his eyes were raised to heaven, and thenwandered around the plain. All at once they became fixed upon a singularobject, that appeared at some distance off, and was just emerging fromthe bushes. It was an animal of some kind, and from its vast size Von Bloom and theothers at first took it to be an elephant. None of them, exceptSwartboy, were accustomed to elephants in their wild state, --for, although these animals once inhabited the most southerly portion ofAfrica, they have long since deserted the settled districts, and are nowonly to be found far beyond the frontier of the colony. But they knewthat there were elephants in these parts--as they had already observedtheir tracks--and all now supposed the huge creature that wasapproaching must be one. Not all, Swartboy was an exception. As soon as his eyes fell upon theanimal he cried out, -- "Chukuroo--a chukuroo!" "A rhinoster, is it?" said Von Bloom, knowing that "chuckuroo" was thenative name for the rhinoceros, or "rhinoster, " as he called it inDutch. "Ya, baas, " replied Swartboy; "and one o' da big karles--da, 'kobaoba, 'da long-horn white rhinoster. " What Swartboy meant by this was that the animal in question was a largespecies of rhinoceros, known among the natives as the "kobaoba. " Now I dare say, young reader, you have been all your life under theimpression that there was but one species of rhinoceros in theworld--that is _the_ rhinoceros. Is it not so? Yes. Well, permit me to inform you, that you have been under a wrongimpression. There are quite a number of distinct species of this verysingular animal. At least eight distinct kinds I know of; and I do nothesitate to say that when the central parts of Africa have been fullyexplored, as well as South Asia and the Asiatic islands, nearly half asmany more will be found to exist. In South Africa four distinct species are well known; one in NorthAfrica differs from all these; while the large Indian rhinoceros bearsbut slight resemblance to any of them. A distinct species from any isthe rhinoceros of Sumatra, an inhabitant of that island; and stillanother is the Java rhinoceros, found in the island of Java. Thus wehave no less than eight kinds, all specifically differing from oneanother. The natives of South Africa are acquainted with four distinct species ofrhinoceros, to which they give distinct names; and it may be remarkedthat this observation of species by native hunters is far more to bedepended upon than the speculations of mere closet-naturalists, who drawtheir deductions from a tubercle, or the tooth, or a stuffed skin. Gordon Cumming, for example, the most distinguished of all Africanhunters has done more to increase the knowledge of African zoology thana whole college full of "speculating" _savans_. This same Gordon Cumming has written a most interesting account of hishunting experiences, tells you that there are four kinds of rhinocerosin Southern Africa; and no man is likely to know better than he. These four kinds are known among the natives as the "borele, " the"keitloa, " the "muchocho, " and "kobaoba. " The two first are "blackrhinoceroses, "--that is, the general colour of their skin is dark--whilethe "muchocho" and "kobaoba" are white varieties, having the skin of adingy whitish hue. The black rhinoceroses are much smaller--scarce halfthe size of the others, and they differ from them in the length and setof their horns, as well as in other particulars. In the form and length of their neck, the set of their ears, and otherrespects, the black rhinoceroses differ materially from the white ones. In fact, their habits are quite unlike. The former feed chiefly on theleaves and twigs of thorns, such as the _Acacia horrida_, or"wait-a-bits, " while the latter live upon grass. The former are offiercer disposition--will attack man or any other animal on sight; andeven sometimes seem to grow angry with the bushes, charging upon themand breaking them to pieces! The white rhinoceroses, although fierce enough when wounded or provoked, are usually of pacific disposition, and will permit the hunter to passwithout molestation. These become very fat, and make excellent eating. The flesh of noAfrican animal is esteemed superior to the calf of the white rhinoceros, whereas the black varieties never grow fat, and their flesh is tough andunpalatable. The hide is also used for different purposes, among others for makingthe whips known as "jamboks, " though hippopotamus-hide is superior. The skin of the African rhinoceros, as already stated, is without theplaits, folds, and scutellĉ, that characterise its Asiatic congener, yetit is far from being a soft one. It is so thick and difficult to pierce, that a bullet of ordinary lead will sometimes flatten upon it. To ensureits penetrating, the lead must be hardened with solder. The rhinoceros, though not a water animal, like the hippopotamus, isnevertheless fond of that element, and is rarely found at a greatdistance from it. All four kinds love to lie and wallow in mud, just ashogs in a summer's day; and they are usually seen coated all over withthis substance. During the day they may be observed lying down orstanding under the shade of some thick mimosa-tree, either asleep or ina state of easy indolence; and it is during the night that they wanderabout in search of food and water. If approached from the lee side they can easily be got at, as theirsmall sparkling eyes do not serve them well. On the contrary, if thehunter go to windward, they will scent him at a great distance, as theirsense of smell is most acute. If their eyes were only as keen as theirnostrils, it would be a dangerous game to attack them, for they can runwith sufficient rapidity to overtake a horse in the first charge. In charging and running, the black variety far excels the white. Theyare easily avoided, however, by the hunter springing quickly to oneside, and letting them rush blindly on. The black rhinoceros is about six feet high at the shoulder, and fullthirteen in length; while the white kinds are far larger. The whiterhinoceros is full seven feet high, and fourteen in length! No wonder that an animal of these extraordinary dimensions was at firstsight taken for the elephant. In fact, the kobaoba rhinoceros is thequadruped next to the elephant in size; and with his great muzzle--fulleighteen inches broad--his long clumsy head, his vast ponderous body, this animal impresses one with an idea of strength and massive grandeuras great, and some say greater than the elephant himself. He looks, indeed, like a caricature of the elephant. It was not such a badmistake, then, when our people by the wagon took the "kobaoba" for the"mighty elephant. " Swartboy, however, set them all right by declaring that the animal theysaw was the white rhinoceros. CHAPTER XVII. A HEAVY COMBAT. When they first saw the kobaoba, he was, as stated, just coming out ofthe thicket. Without halting, he headed in the direction of the vleyalready mentioned; and kept on towards it, his object evidently being toreach the water. This little lake, of course, owed its existence to the spring--though itwas full two hundred yards from the latter--and about the same from thegreat tree. It was nearly circular in shape, and about one hundred yardsin diameter, so that its superficial area would thus be a little overtwo English acres. It merited, then, the name of "lake;" and by thatname the young people already called it. On its upper side--that in the direction of the spring--its shore washigh, and in one or two places rocky, and these rocks ran back to thespring along the channel of a little rivulet. On the west or outer sideof the lake the land lay lower, and the water at one or two pointslipped up nearly to the level of the plain. For this reason it was, thatupon that side, the bank was paddled all over with tracks of animalsthat had been to drink. Hendrik the hunter had observed among them thefootprints of many kinds he knew nothing about. It was for the lower end of the lake the kobaoba was making--no doubtwith him an old and favourite drinking place. There was a point where the water was easier of access than elsewhere--alittle to one side of where the wash or waste-stream of the lake ranout. It was a sort of cove with bright sandy beach, and approachablefrom the plain by a miniature gorge, hollowed out, no doubt, by the longusage of those animals who came to drink at the vley. By entering thiscove, the tallest animals might get deep water and good bottom, so thatthey could drink without much straining or stooping. The kobaoba came onin a direct line for the lake; and as he drew near, they could see himheading for the gorge that led into the little cove. It proved he hadbeen there before. Next moment he passed through the gap, and stood knee-deep in the water. After swallowing several copious draughts--now sneezing, and thenwheezing--he plunged his broad snout, horn and all, into the water, tossed it till it foamed, and then lying down in it, commenced wallowinglike a hog. The place was shallow, and most of his huge body was above thesurface--though there was deep enough water in the lake to have givenhim a bath had he desired it. The first thought of Von Bloom, as well as of Hendrik, was how to"circumvent" the rhinoceros, and of course destroy him. Not that theysimply wished his destruction; but Swartboy had already represented whatfine food the species was, and there was no stock of provision in camp. Hendrik had another object in wishing the death of the creature. Hewanted a new loading-rod for his rifle; and he had gazed covetously atthe kobaoba's long horn. But it was easier to desire the death of the rhinoceros than toaccomplish it. They had no horses--at least, none that could bemounted--and to attack the animal on foot, would be a game as dangerousas idle. He would be like enough to impale one of them on his greatspike, or else trample them brutally under his huge feet. If he did notdo one or the other, he would easily make his escape--as any kind ofrhinoceros can outrun a man. How were they to manage him then? Perhaps they might get near--fire at him from an ambush, and with alucky shot stretch him out. A single bullet sometimes kills therhinoceros--but only when correctly placed, so as to penetrate theheart, or some other of the "vitals. " This was, probably, the best plan. They might easily get near enough. There was some bush cover close to the spot. It was probable the oldkobaoba would not perceive them, if they approached from leeward, particularly as he seemed in the full tide of enjoyment at that moment. They were about to attempt the approach, and had got to their feet forthat purpose, when a sudden fit seemed to have attacked Swartboy. Thelatter commenced jumping over the ground, at the same time muttering ina low voice, -- "Da klow! da klow!" A stranger would have fancied Swartboy in a fit, but Von Bloom knew thatby "Da klow! da klow!" the Bushman meant "The elephant! the elephant!"and therefore looked in the direction in which Swartboy was pointing. Sure enough, upon the western plain, looming up against the yellow sky, was a dark mass, that upon examination presented the outlines of anelephant. Its rounded back was easily distinguished over the low bushes;and its broad hanging ears were moving as it marched. All saw at aglance that it was coming towards the lake, and almost in the same trackthat the rhinoceros had taken. Of course this new apparition quite disarranged the plans of thehunters. At sight of the mighty elephant, they scarce any longer gave athought to the kobaoba. Not that they had formed any very great hopes ofbeing able to kill the gigantic animal, yet some such thought wasrunning through their minds. They had determined to try, at all events. Before they could agree upon any plan, however, the elephant had got upto the edge of the lake. Though moving only at a slow walk, with hisimmense strides he soon measured off a large quantity of ground, andadvanced much more rapidly than one would have supposed. The hunters hadscarce time to exchange thoughts, before the huge creature was up withina few yards of the water. Here he halted, pointed his proboscis in different directions, stoodquite silent, and seemed to listen. There was no noise to disturb him--even the kobaoba for the moment wasquiet. After standing a minute or so, the huge creature moved forward again, and entered the gorge already described. They at the camp had now a full view of him, at less than three hundredyards distant. An immense mass he seemed. His body quite filled thegorge from side to side, and his long yellow tusks projecting more thantwo yards from his jaws, curved gracefully upward. He was an "old bull, "as Swartboy whispered. Up to this time the rhinoceros had not had the slightest intimation ofthe elephant's approach; for the tread of the latter--big beast as heis--is as silent as a cat's. It is true that a loud rumbling noise likedistant thunder proceeded from his inside as he moved along; but thekobaoba was in too high a caper just then to have heard or noticed anysound that was not very near and distinct. The huge body of the elephant coming suddenly into "his sunshine, " andflinging its dark shadow over the vley, was distinct enough, and causedthe kobaoba to get to his feet with an agility quite surprising for acreature of his build. At the same time a noise, something between a grunt and a whistleescaped him, as the water was ejected from his nostrils. The elephant also uttered his peculiar salute, in a trumpet note, thatechoed from the cliffs; and halted in his tracks as soon as he saw therhinoceros. No doubt both were surprised at the rencontre; as both stood for someseconds eyeing each other with apparent astonishment. This, however, soon gave place to a different feeling. Symptoms of angerbegan to show themselves. It was evident that bad blood was brewingbetween them. There was, in fact, a little dilemma. The elephant could not getcomfortably at the water unless the rhinoceros left the cove; and therhinoceros could not well get out of the cove, so long as the elephantblocked up the gorge with his immense thick limbs. It is true, the kobaoba might have sneaked through among the other'slegs, or he might have swum off and landed at some other point, and ineither way have left the coast clear. But of all animals in the world a rhinoceros is, perhaps, the mostunaccommodating. He is, also, one of the most fearless, dreading neitherman nor beast--not even the boasted lion, whom he often chases like acat. Hence the old kobaoba had no intention of yielding ground to theelephant; and from his attitude, it was plain that he neither intendedto sneak off under the other's belly, nor swim a single stroke for him. No--not a stroke. It remained to be seen how the point of honour was to be decided. Theattitude of affairs had become so interesting, that every one by thecamp was gazing with fixed eyes upon the two great bulls--for therhinoceros was also a "bull" and of the largest size known of his kind. For several minutes they stood eyeing each other. The elephant, althoughmuch the larger, knew his antagonist well. He had met his "sort" before, and knew better than to despise his powers. Perhaps, ere now, he had hada touch of that long spit-like excrescence that stood out from thekobaoba's snout. At all events, he did not rush upon his adversary at once--as he wouldhave done on some poor antelope that might have crossed him in the sameway. [Illustration: A DEADLY ENCOUNTER. ] His patience, however, became exhausted. His ancient dignity wasinsulted--his rule disputed--he wished to have his bath and hisdrink--he could bear the insolence of the rhinoceros no longer. With a bellow that made the rocks ring again, he charged forward; placedhis tusks firmly under the shoulder of his adversary, --gave a mighty"lift, " and turned the rhinoceros over in the water! For a moment the latter plunged, and blowed, and snorted, his head halfunder water; but in a second's time he was on his feet again, andcharging in turn. The spectators could see that he aimed right at theelephant's ribs with his horn, and that the latter did all he could tokeep head towards him. Again the elephant flung the kobaoba, and again the latter rose andcharged madly upon his huge antagonist; and so both fought until thewater around them was white with foam. The contest was carried on in the water, until the elephant, seeming tothink his adversary had an advantage there, backed himself into thegorge, and stood waiting with his head towards the lake. In thisposition the sides of the gorge did not protect him, as perhaps hefancied. They were too low, and his broad flanks rose far above them. They only kept him from turning round, and this interfered with thefreedom of his movements. It could scarce have been design in the rhinoceros to act as he now did, though it appeared so to those who were watching. As the elephant tookup his position in the gorge, the kobaoba clambered out upon the bank;and then, wheeling suddenly, with head to the ground and long hornprojected horizontally, the latter rushed upon his antagonist and struckhim right among the ribs. The spectators saw that the horn penetrated, and the loud scream that came from the elephant, with the quick motionsof his trunk and tail, told plainly that he had received a severe wound. Instead of standing any longer in the gorge he rushed forward, and didnot stop until he was knee-deep in the lake. Drawing the water up intohis trunk, he raised it on high, and pointing it backwards, hedischarged large volumes over his body, and upon the spot where he hadreceived the thrust of the kobaoba's horn. He then ran out of the lake, and charged about in search of therhinoceros; but long-horn was no longer to be found! Having escaped from the cove without compromising his dignity, andperhaps believing that he had gained the victory, the rhinoceros, assoon as he delivered the thrust, had galloped off and disappeared amongthe bushes. CHAPTER XVIII. THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. The battle between these two large quadrupeds did not continue for morethan ten minutes. During that time the hunters made no advance towardsattacking either of them--so much absorbed were they in watching thenovel contest. It was only after the rhinoceros had retreated, and theelephant returned to the water, that they once more began to deliberateon some plan of assaulting this mightiest of African animals. Hans nowlaid hold of his gun and joined them. The elephant, after looking about for his enemy, had got back, and wasstanding knee-deep in the lake. He appeared restless and highly excited. His tail was continually in motion, and at intervals he uttered apiercing melancholy scream--far different to the usual trumpet-likebellow of his voice. He lifted his huge limbs, and then plunged themback again to the bottom, until the foam gathered upon the water withhis continued churning. But the oddest of his actions was the manner in which he employed hislong tubular trunk. With this he sucked up vast volumes of water, andthen pointing it backwards ejected the fluid over his back andshoulders, as if from an immense syringe. This shower-bath he keptrepeating time after time, though it was evident he was not at his ease. They all knew he was angry. Swartboy said it would be exceedinglydangerous to be seen by him at that moment, without having a horse togallop out of his way. On this account every one of them had concealedthemselves behind the trunk of the nwana-tree, Von Bloom peeping pastone side, and Hendrik the other, in order to watch his movements. Notwithstanding the danger, they at length resolved to attack him. Theybelieved that if they did not do so soon, he would walk off, and leavethem supperless--for they had hoped to sup upon a slice of his trunk. Time, therefore, had grown precious, and they resolved to attack himwithout further ado. They intended to creep as near as was safe. All three would firetogether, and then lie close in the bushes until they saw the effect oftheir shots. Without farther parley, Von Bloom, Hans, and Hendrik, leaving the tree, crept through the bushes towards the western end of the lake. It was nota continuous thicket, but only an assemblage of copses and clumps, sothat they required to steal very cautiously from one to the other. VonBloom led the way, while the boys kept in his tracks, following himclosely. After some five minutes spent in this way, they got under cover of alittle clump near the water's edge, and near enough to the giganticgame. Upon their hands and knees they now approached the verge of theunderwood; and, having parted the leaves, looked through. The mightyquadruped was right under their eyes, within twenty yards of them! He was still busy plunging about, and blowing volumes of water over hisbody. He gave no sign that he had any suspicion of their presence. Theycould take time, therefore, in choosing a part of his huge body at whichto aim their pieces. When first seen from their new position, he was standing stern towardsthem. Von Bloom did not think it a good time to fire, as they could notgive him a deadly wound in that situation. They waited, therefore, untilhe might turn his side, before they should deliver their volley. Theykept their eyes all the while steadily fixed on him. He ceased at length to "churn" with his feet, and no longer raised waterin his trunk; and now the hunters perceived that the lake was red for aspace around him! It was his blood that had reddened it. They no longer doubted that he had been wounded by the rhinoceros; butwhether the wound was a bad one they could not tell. It was in his side, and as yet they could only see his broad stern from the position inwhich he still continued to stand. But they waited with confidence--asthey knew that in turning to get out of the water, he would have topresent his side towards them. For several minutes he kept the same position; but they noticed that histail no longer switched about, and that his attitude was loose anddrooping. Now and then he turned his proboscis to the spot where he hadreceived the thrust of the kobaoba's horn. It was evident that the woundwas distressing him, and this became more apparent by the loud painfulbreathing the creature uttered through his trunk. The three began to grow impatient. Hendrik asked leave to creep round toanother point, and give him a shot that would turn him round. Just at that moment the elephant made a motion, as though he was aboutto come out of the water. He had got fairly round--his head and fore-part were over dry land--thethree guns were pointed--the eyes of the three hunters were about toglance through the sights of their pieces, when all at once he was seento rock and stagger, --and then roll over! With a loud plash, his vastbody subsided into the water, sending great waves to every corner of thelake. The hunters uncocked their guns, and, springing from their ambush, rushed forward to the bank. They saw at a glance that the elephant wasdead. They saw the wound upon his side, --the hole made by the horn ofthe rhinoceros. It was not very large, but the terrible weapon hadpenetrated far into his body, into his very vitals. No wonder, then, atthe result it had produced--the death of the mightiest of quadrupeds. As soon as it became known that the elephant was dead, everybody wasseen rushing forward to the spot. Little Trüey and Jan were called fromtheir hiding-place--for they had both been hidden in the wagon--andTotty, too, went down with the rest. Swartboy was one of the first uponthe spot, carrying an axe and a large knife--for Swartboy had designsupon the carcass--while Hans and Hendrik both threw off their jackets toassist in the butchering operations. And what during this time was Von Bloom about? Ha! That is a moreimportant question than you think for. That was an important hour--thehour of a great crisis in the life of the field-cornet. He was standing with folded arms on the bank of the lake, directly overthe spot where the elephant had fallen. He appeared to be wrapt insilent meditation, his eyes bent upon the huge carcass of the animal. No, not on the carcass. A close observer would have perceived that hiseyes did not wander over that mountain of thick skin and flesh, but wereresting upon a particular spot. Was it the wound in the animal's side? And was Von Bloom meditating howthe thrust had caused the death of such a huge creature? Neither one nor the other. His thoughts were upon a very different themefrom either. The elephant had fallen so that his head was clear of the water, andrested upon a little bank of sand; along which, his soft and limbertrunk lay extended to its full length. Curving like a pair of giganticscimeters from its base, were the yellow enamelled tusks; those ivoryarms that for years, --aye centuries, perhaps, --had served him to root upthe trees of the forest, and rout his antagonists in many a dreadencounter. Precious and beautiful trophies were they, but alas! theirworld-wide fame had cost no less than life to many thousands of hisrace. Shining in all their magnificence lay these mated crescents, gentlycurved and softly rounded. It was upon these that the eyes of thefield-cornet were bent! Aye, and bent too with an eagerness unusual in his glance. His lips werecompressed, his chest was visibly heaving. Oh! there was a world ofthoughts passing through the mind of Von Bloom at that moment. Were they painful thoughts? The expression of his face told thecontrary. The cloud that all that day sat perched upon his brow hadvanished. Not a trace of it remained, but in its place could be seen thelines of hope and joy, and these feelings at length found expression inwords. "It is the hand of Heaven!" he exclaimed aloud. "A fortune--a fortune!" "What is it, papa?" inquired little Trüey, who was near him; "what wereyou speaking about, dear papa?" And then all the others gathered around him, noticing his excitedmanner, and pleased at seeing him look so happy. "What is it, papa?" asked all together, while Swartboy and Totty stoodeager as the rest to hear the answer. In the pleasant excitement of his thoughts, the fond father could nolonger conceal from his children the secret of his new-born happiness. He would gratify them by disclosing it. Pointing to the long crescents he said, -- "You see those beautiful tusks?" Yes, of course, they all did. "Well, do you know their value?" No. They knew they were worth something. They knew that it was fromelephants' tusks that ivory was obtained, or, more properly, thatelephants' tusks were ivory itself; and that it was used in themanufacture of hundreds of articles. In fact, little Trüey had abeautiful fan made out of it, which had been her mother's; and Jan hada knife with an ivory handle. Ivory was a very beautiful material, andcost very dear, they knew. All this they knew, but the value of the twotusks they could not guess at. They said so. "Well, my children, " said Von Bloom, "as near as I can estimate them, they are worth twenty pounds each of English money. " "Oh! oh! Such a grand sum!" cried all in a breath. "Yes, " continued the field-cornet; "I should think each tusk is onehundred pounds in weight, and as ivory at present sells for fourshillings and sixpence the pound weight, these two would yield betweenforty and fifty pounds of sterling money. " "Why, it would buy a full span of best oxen!" cried Hans. "Four good horses!" said Hendrik. "A whole flock of sheep!" added little Jan. "But whom can we sell them to?" asked Hendrik, after a pause. "We areaway from the settlements. Who is to give us either oxen, or horses, orsheep, for them? It would not be worth while to carry two tusks all theway----" "Not two, Hendrik, " said his father interrupting him; "but twenty itmight, --aye, twice twenty, or three times that number. Now, do youunderstand what makes me so gay?" "Oh!" exclaimed Hendrik, as well as the others, who now began toperceive what their father was so joyed about, "you think we can obtainmore tusks in these parts?" "Precisely so. I think there are many elephants here. I feel certain ofit from the quantity of their spoor I have already noticed. We have ourguns, and fortunately, plenty of ammunition. We are all pretty fairshots--why can we not obtain more of these valuable trophies?" "But we shall, " continued Von Bloom. "I know we shall, because Irecognise the hand of God in sending us this wealth in the midst of ourmisery--after we had lost everything. More will come by the guiding ofthe same hand. So be of good cheer, my children! We shall not want--weshall yet have plenty--we may be rich!" It was not that any of those young creatures cared much about beingrich, but because they saw their father so happy, that they broke outinto something more than a murmur of applause. It was, in fact, a cheer, in which both Totty and Swartboy joined. It rang over the little lake, and caused the birds about settling to roost to wonder what was goingon. There was no happier group in all Africa than stood at that momentupon the shore of that lonely little vley. CHAPTER XIX. TURNED HUNTERS. The field-cornet, then, had resolved upon turning hunter byprofession--a hunter of elephants; and it was a pleasant reflection tothink, that this occupation promised, not only exciting sport, but greatprofit. He knew that it was not so easy a matter to succeed in killingsuch large and valuable game as elephants. He did not suppose that in afew weeks or months he would obtain any great quantities of their ivoryspoils; but he had made up his mind to spend even years in the pursuit. For years he should lead the life of a Bushman--for years his sons wouldbe "Bush-boys, " and he hoped that in time his patience and toil would beamply rewarded. That night around the camp-fire all were very happy and very merry. Theelephant had been left where he lay, to be cut up on the morrow. Onlyhis trunk had been taken off--part of which was cooked for supper. Although all the flesh of the elephant is eatable, the trunk is esteemedone of the delicate bits. It tastes not unlike ox-tongue; and all ofthem liked it exceedingly. To Swartboy, who had made many a meal upon"de ole klow, " it was a highly-relished feast. They had plenty of fine milk, too. The cow, now upon the best ofpasture, doubled her yield; and the quantity of this, the most deliciousof all drinks, was sufficient to give every one a large allowance. While enjoying their new-fashioned dish of roast elephant-trunk, theconversation naturally turned upon these animals. Everybody knows the appearance of the elephant, therefore a descriptionof him is quite superfluous. But everybody does not know that there aretwo distinct kinds of this gigantic quadruped--the African and Asiatic. Until a late period they were thought to be of the same species. Nowthey are acknowledged to be, not only distinct, but very different inmany respects. The Asiatic, or, as it is more frequently called, the"Indian" elephant is the larger of the two; but it is possible thatdomestication may have produced a larger kind, as is the rule with manyanimals. The African species exists only in a wild state; and it wouldappear that individuals of this kind have been measured having thedimensions of the largest of the wild Asiatic elephants. The most remarkable points of difference between the two are found inthe ears and tusks. The ears of the African elephant are of enormousproportions, meeting each other above the shoulders, and hanging downbelow the breast. Those of the Indian elephant are scarce one-third thesize. In his grand tusks the former has far the advantage--these in someindividuals weighing nearly two hundred pounds each--while the tusks ofthe latter rarely reach the weight of one hundred. To this, however, there are some exceptions. Of course a two hundred pound tusk is one ofthe very largest, and far above the average even of African elephants. In this species the females are also provided with tusks--though not ofsuch size as in the males--whereas the female of the Indian elephant haseither no tusks at all, or they are so small as to be scarcelyperceptible outside the skin of the lips. In Africa the elephant exists only in a state of nature. None of thenations upon this little-known continent tame or train him to anypurpose. He is only prized among them for his precious teeth, and hisflesh as well. Some have asserted that this species is more fierce thanits Indian congener, and could not be domesticated. This is altogether amistake. The reason why the African elephant is not trained, is simplythat none of the modern nations of Africa have yet reached a high enoughpoint of civilisation to avail themselves of the services of thisvaluable animal. The African elephant may be domesticated and trained to the "howdah, " orcastle, as easily as his Indian cousin. The trial has been made; butthat it can be done no better proof is required than that at one periodit was done, and upon a large scale. The elephants of the Carthaginianarmy were of this species. The African elephant at present inhabits the central and southern partsof Africa. Abyssinia on the east, and Senegal on the west, are hisnorthern limits, and but a few years ago he roamed southward to the veryCape of Good Hope. The activity of the Dutch ivory-hunters, with theirenormous long guns, has driven him from that quarter; and he is nolonger to be found to the south of the Orange River. Swartboy spoke of a variety well known among the Hottentot hunters asthe "koes-cops. " This kind, he said, differed from the ordinary ones byits altogether wanting the tusks, and being of a far more viciousdisposition. Its encounter is more dreaded; but as it possesses notrophies to make it worth the trouble and danger of killing, the huntersusually give it a wide berth. Such was the conversation that night around the camp-fire. Much of theinformation here given was furnished by Hans, who of course had gatheredit from books; but the Bushman contributed his quota--perhaps of a farmore reliable character. All were destined ere long to make practical acquaintance with thehaunts and habits of this huge quadruped, that to them had now becomethe most interesting of all the animal creation. CHAPTER XX. JERKING AN ELEPHANT. Next day was one of severe, but joyful labour. It was spent in "curing"the elephant, not in a medical sense, but in the language of theprovision-store. Although not equal to either beef or mutton, or even pork, the flesh ofthe elephant is sufficiently palatable to be eaten. There is no reasonwhy it should not be, for the animal is a clean feeder, and livesaltogether on vegetable substances--the leaves and tender shoots oftrees, with several species of bulbous roots, which he well knows how toextract from the ground with his tusks and trunk. It does not followfrom this that his beef should be well tasted--since we see that thehog, one of the most unclean of feeders, yields most delicious "pork;"while another of the same family (_pachydermata_) that subsists only onsweet succulent roots, produces a flesh both insipid and bitter. Iallude to the South American tapir. The quality of the food, therefore, is no criterion of the quality of the flesh. It is true that the beef of the elephant was not what Von Bloom and mostof his family would have chosen for their regular diet. Had they beensure of procuring a supply of antelope-venison, the great carcass mighthave gone, not to the "dogs, " but to their kindred the hyenas. But theywere not sure of getting even a single antelope, and therefore decidedupon "curing" the elephant. It would be a safe stock to have on hand, and need not interfere with their eating venison, or any other daintythat might turn up. The first thing done was to cut out the tusks. This proved a tough job, and occupied full two hours. Fortunately there was a good axe on hand. But for this and Swartboy's knowledge, double the time might have beenwasted in the operation. The ivory having been extracted and put away in a safe place, the"cutting up" then commenced in earnest. Von Bloom and Swartboy were the"baas-butchers, " while Hans and Hendrik played the part of "swabs. " Asthe carcass lay half under water, they would have had some difficulty indealing with the under part. But this they did not design to touch. Theupper half would be amply sufficient to provision them a long while; andso they set about removing the skin from that side that was uppermost. The rough thick outer coat they removed in broad sheets cut intosections; and then they peeled off several coats of an under skin, oftough and pliant nature. Had they needed water-vessels, Swartboy wouldhave saved this for making them--as it is used for such purposes by theBushmen and other natives. But they had vessels enough in the wagon, andthis skin was thrown away. They had now reached the pure flesh, which they separated in largesheets from the ribs; and then the ribs were cut out, one by one, withthe axe. This trouble they would not have taken--as they did not wantthe ribs--but they cut them away for another reason, namely, to enablethem to get at the valuable fat, which lies in enormous quantitiesaround the intestines. Of course for all cooking purposes, the fat wouldbe to them invaluable, and indeed almost necessary to render the fleshitself eatable. It is no easy matter to get at the fat in the inside of an elephant, asthe whole of the intestines have first to be removed. But Swartboy wasnot to be deterred by a little trouble; so climbing into the interior ofthe huge carcass, he commenced cutting and delving, and every now andthen passing a multitude of "inwards" out to the others, who carriedthem off out of the way. After a long spell of this work, the fat was secured, and carefullypacked in a piece of clean under-skin; and then the "butchering" wasfinished. Of course the four feet, which along with the trunk are considered the"tit-bits, " had already been separated at the fetlock joint; and stoodout upon the bank, for the future consideration of Swartboy. The next thing to be done was to "cure" the meat. They had a stock ofsalt--that precious, though, as lately discovered, not indispensablearticle. But the quantity--stowed away in a dry corner of the wagon--wassmall, and would have gone but a short way in curing an elephant. They had no idea of using it for such a purpose. Flesh can be preservedwithout salt; and not only Swartboy, but Von Bloom himself, knew how topreserve it. In all countries where salt is scarce, the process of"jerking" meat is well understood, and consists simply in cutting itinto thin strips and hanging it out in the sun. A few days of brightwarm sunshine will "jerk" it sufficiently; and meat thus dried will keepgood for months. A slow fire will answer the purpose nearly as well; andin the absence of sunshine, the fire is often resorted to. Sun-dried meat in South Africa is called "biltongue. " The Spaniards ofMexico name it "tasajo, " while those of Peru style it "charqui. " InEnglish it is "jerked" meat. Several hours were spent in cutting the elephant-beef into strips, andthen a number of forked poles were set up, others were laid horizontallyover the forks, and upon these the meat was suspended, and hung down innumberless festoons. Before the sun went down, the neighbourhood of the camp presented a rareappearance. It looked somewhat like the enclosure of a yarn-bleacher, except that the hanging strips, instead of being white, were of abeautiful clear ruby colour. But the work was not yet completed. The feet remained to be "preserved, "and the mode of curing these was entirely different. That was a secretknown only by Swartboy, and in the execution of it the Bushman playedfirst fiddle, with the important air of a _chef de cuisine_. He proceeded as follows:-- He first dug a hole in the ground, about two feet deep, and a littlemore in diameter--just large enough to admit one of the feet, which wasnearly two feet diameter at the base. The earth which came out of thishole Swartboy placed in the form of a loose embankment around the edge. By his direction the boys had already collected upon the spot a largequantity of dried branches and logs. These Swartboy now built over thehole, into a pyramid of ten feet high, and then set the pile on fire. Henext proceeded to make three other pits precisely similar, and builtover each a fire like the first, until four large fires were burningupon the ground. The fires being now fairly under way, he could only wait until each hadburned down. This would carry the process into the night, and so itturned out; but Swartboy had a foresight of this. He knew he would getthrough with the more important portion of his work before bedtime. When the first fire had burned quite to red cinders, Swartboy's hardestturn of duty began. With a shovel he lifted the cinders out of the hole, until it was empty; but he was more than an hour in performing thisapparently simple labour. The difficulty arose from the intense heat hehad to encounter, which drove him back after every few moments' work; sothat he was compelled to retreat at intervals in order to cool himself. The "baas, " as well as Hendrik and Hans, took turns with him, until allfour were perspiring as if they had been shut up for half-an-hour in abaker's oven. When the hole was thoroughly scooped clean of coals, Swartboy, assistedby Von Bloom, lifted one of the huge feet; and, carrying it as near asthey dare go on account of the scorching heat, they heaved it in uponits base. The sandy earth which had been originally removed, and which was now ashot as molten lead, was pushed over, and around the foot; and then thecinders were raked on top, and over that another huge fire was kindled. The same process was gone through with the other three feet, and allfour were to be left in the "oven" until the fires should be burneddown, when they would be found sufficiently "baked. " Swartboy would then rake off the cinders, take out the feet with a sharpwooden spit, beat them well to get rid of the dust, scrape the sandclear, then pare off the outside skin, when they would be ready eitherto be eaten or would keep for a long time. Swartboy would do all this as soon as the four huge bonfires should burndown. But that would not be before the morning; so all of them, fatigued bythe extraordinary exertions of the day, finished their suppers ofbroiled trunk, and went to rest under the protecting shadow of thenwana. CHAPTER XXI. THE HIDEOUS HYENA. Fatigued as they were, they would soon have fallen asleep. But they werenot permitted to do so. As they lay with closed eyes in that half-dreamystate that precedes sleep, they were suddenly startled by strange voicesnear the camp. These voices were uttered in peals of loud laughter; and no one, unacquainted with them, would have pronounced them to be anything elsethan the voices of human beings. They exactly resembled the strongtreble produced by the laugh of a maniac negro. It seemed as if someBedlam of negroes had been let loose, and were approaching the spot. I say approaching, because each moment the sounds grew clearer andlouder; and it was evident that whatever gave utterance to them wascoming nearer to the camp. That there was more than one creature was evident--aye, and it wasequally evident that there was more than one kind of creature; for sovaried were the voices, it would have puzzled a ventriloquist to havegiven imitations of them all. There was howling, and whining, andgrunting, and growling, and low melancholy moaning as of some one inpain, and hissing, and chattering, and short, sharp intonations, as ifit were the barking of dogs, and then a moment or two of deep silence, and again that chorus of human-like laughter, that in point of horrorand hideous suggestions surpassed all the other sounds. You will suppose that such a wild concert must have put the camp in astate of great alarm. Not a bit of it. Nobody was frightened in theleast--not even innocent little Trüey, nor the diminutive Jan. Had they been strangers to these sounds, no doubt they would have beenmore than frightened. They would have been terrified by them; for theywere calculated to produce such an effect upon any one to whose earsthey were new. But Von Bloom and his family had lived too long upon the wild karoo tobe ignorant of those voices. In the howling, and chattering, andyelping, they heard but the cries of the jackal; and they well knew themaniac laugh of the hideous hyena. Instead of being alarmed, and springing from their beds, they lay stilland listened--not dreading any attack from the noisy creatures. Von Bloom and the children slept in the wagon; Swartboy and Totty uponthe ground--but these lay close to the fires, and therefore did not fearwild beasts of any kind. But the hyenas and jackals upon this occasion appeared to be bothnumerous and bold. In a few minutes after they were first heard, theircries rose around the camp on all sides, so near and so loud as to bepositively disagreeable--even without considering the nature of thebrutes that uttered them. At last they came so close, that it was impossible to look in anydirection without seeing a pair of green or red eyes gleaming under thelight of the fires! White teeth, too, could be observed, as the hyenasopened their jaws, to give utterance to their harsh laughter. With such a sight before their eyes, and such sounds ringing in theirears, neither Von Bloom nor any of his people--tired as they were--couldgo to sleep. Indeed, not only was sleep out of the question, but, worsethan that, all--the field-cornet himself not excepted--began toexperience some feelings of apprehension, if not actual alarm. They had never beheld a troop of hyenas so numerous and fierce. Therecould not be less than two dozen of them around the camp, with twicethat number of jackals. Von Bloom knew that although, under ordinary circumstances, the hyena isnot a dangerous animal, yet there are places and times when he willattack human beings. Swartboy knew this well, and Hans, too, from havingread of it. No wonder, then, that some apprehension was felt by all ofthem. The hyenas now behaved with such boldness, and appeared so ravenous, that sleep was out of the question. Some demonstration must be made todrive the brutes away from the camp. Von Bloom, Hans, and Hendrik, laid hold of their guns, and got out ofthe wagon, while Swartboy armed himself with his bow and arrows. Allfour stood close by the trunk of the nwana, on the other side from thatwhere the fires were. In this place they were in the shadow, where theycould best observe anything that should come under the light of thefires without being themselves seen. Their position was well chosen. They had scarcely fixed themselves in it, when they perceived a greatpiece of neglect they had been guilty of. Now, for the first time itoccurred to them what had brought the hyenas around them in suchnumbers. Beyond a doubt it was the flesh of the elephant, --the_biltongue_. That was what the beasts were after; and all now saw that a mistake hadbeen committed in hanging the meat too low. The hyenas might easily getat it. This was soon made manifest; for, even at the moment while they stoodwatching the red festoons, plainly visible under the light of Swartboy'sfires, a shaggy spotted brute rushed forward, reared up on hishind-legs, seized one of the pieces, dragged it down from the pole, andthen ran off with it into the darkness. A rushing sound could be heard as the others joined him to get a shareof his plunder; and, no doubt, in less than half a minute the morsel wasconsumed; for, at the end of that time, glancing eyes and gleaming teethshowed that the whole troop was back again and ready to make a freshseizure. None of the hunters had fired, as the nimbleness with which the brutesmoved about rendered it difficult to take aim at any one of them; andall knew that powder and lead were too precious to be wasted on a"flying shot. " Emboldened by their success, the hyenas had now drawn nearer, and in amoment more would have made a general charge upon the scaffolds offlesh, and, no doubt, would have succeeded in carrying off a largequantity of it. But just then it occurred to Von Bloom that it would bebest to lay aside their guns and remedy the mistake they had made, byputting the biltongue out of reach. If they did not do so, they wouldeither have to remain awake all night and guard it, or else lose everystring of it. How was it to be put out of reach? At first they thought of collecting it into a heap and stowing it awayin the wagon. That would not only be an unpleasant job, but it wouldinterfere with their sleeping quarters. An alternative, however, presented itself. They saw that if thescaffolds were only high enough, the meat might be easily hung so as tobe out of reach of the hyenas. The only question was, how to place thecross-poles a little higher. In the darkness they could not obtain a newset of uprights, and therein lay the difficulty. How were they to getover it? Hans had the credit of suggesting a way; and that was to take out someof the uprights, splice them to the others, with the forked endsuppermost, and then rest the horizontal poles on the upper forks. Thatwould give a scaffold tall enough to hang the meat beyond the reach ofeither jackals or hyenas. Hans' suggestion was at once adopted. Half of the uprights were taken upand spliced against the others so as to raise their forks full twelvefeet in the air; and then the cross-poles were rested over their tops. By standing upon one of the wagon-chests, Von Bloom was able to flingthe strips of meat over the horizontal poles, and in such a manner thatit hung only a few inches down, and was now quite beyond the reach ofthe ravenous brutes. When the business was finished, the party resumed their station underthe shadow of the tree, intending to watch for a while, and see how thewolfish intruders would act. They had not long to watch. In less than five minutes the troopapproached the biltongue, howling, and gibbering, as before; only thistime uttering peculiar cries, as if to express disappointment. They sawat a glance that the tempting festoons were no longer within theirreach. They were not going to leave the ground, however, without assuringthemselves of this fact; and several of the largest approached boldlyunder the scaffolds, and commenced leaping up to try the height. After several attempts, springing each time as high as they were able, they appeared to grow discouraged; and no doubt would in time haveimitated the fox with the grapes, and gone quietly away. But Von Bloom, indignant at being roused after such a fashion, from his pleasant rest, was determined to take some revenge upon his tormentors; so he whisperedthe word to the others, and a volley was delivered from behind the tree. The unexpected discharge caused a quick scattering of both hyenas andjackals, and the pattering of their numerous feet could be heard as theyran off. When the ground under the scaffold was examined, two of thelarger of these ravenous quadrupeds, and one of the smaller, were foundto have bitten the dust. Swartboy had discharged his arrow along with the guns, and it was hethat had slain the jackal, for the poisoned shaft was seen stickingbetween the animal's ribs. The guns were again loaded, the party took their stations as before;but, although they waited another half-hour, neither hyena nor jackalmade their appearance. They had not gone far away, however, as their wild music testified; butthe reason they did not return was, that they had now discovered thehalf carcass of the elephant that lay in the lake, and upon that theywere making their supper. Their plunging in the water could bedistinctly heard from the camp, and during the whole night theyquarrelled and growled, and laughed and yelled, as they gorgedthemselves on their ample prey. Of course Von Bloom and his people did not sit up all night to listen tothis medley of noises. As soon as they perceived that the brutes werenot likely to come any more near the camp, they laid aside theirweapons, returned to their respective sleeping-places, and were all soonburied in the sweet slumber that follows a day of healthy exercise. CHAPTER XXII. STALKING THE OUREBI. Next morning the hyenas and jackals had disappeared from the scene, and, to the surprise of all, not a particle of flesh was left upon the bonesof the elephant. There lay the huge skeleton picked clean, the boneseven polished white by the rough tongues of the hyenas. Nay, stillstranger to relate, two of the horses--these poor brutes had been longsince left to themselves, --had been pulled down during the night, andtheir skeletons lay at a short distance from the camp as cleanly pickedas that of the elephant! All this was evidence of the great number of ravenous creatures thatmust have their home in that quarter, --evidence, too, that game animalsabounded, for where these are not numerous the beasts of prey cannotexist. Indeed, from the quantity of tracks that were seen upon theshores of the vley, it was evident that animals of various kinds haddrunk there during the night. There was the round solid hoof of thequagga, and his near congener the dauw; and there was the neat hoofprintof the gemsbok, and the larger track of the eland; and among these VonBloom did not fail to notice the spoor of the dreaded lion. Althoughthey had not heard his roaring that night, they had no doubt that therewere plenty of his kind in that part of the country. The presence of hisfavourite prey, --the quaggas, the gemsboks, and the elands, --were sureindications that the king of beasts was not far off. Not much work was done that day. The heavy labour of curing thebiltongue, that had occupied them the whole of the preceding day, andtheir disturbed rest, had rendered them all listless; and neither VonBloom nor the others had any inclination for work. So they moved aroundthe camp and did very little. Swartboy took his elephant's feet from the oven, and cleaned them; andalso let down the biltongue and arranged it so as to be better exposedto the sun. Von Bloom himself shot the three remaining horses, havingdriven them to a good distance from the camp. He did this to put an endto the suffering of the poor brutes, --for it was plain to every one thatthey could survive but a day or two longer; and to send a bullet throughthe heart of each was an act of mercy to them. Out of all the live stock of the field-cornet, the cow alone remained, and she was now tended with the greatest care. Without the preciousmilk, which she yielded in such quantity, their diet would have beensavage enough; and they fully appreciated the service she rendered them. Each day she was driven out to the best pasture, and at night shut up ina safe kraal of wait-a-bit thorns, that had been built for her at alittle distance from the tree. These thorns had been placed in such amanner that their shanks all radiated inward, while the bushy tops wereturned out, forming a _chevaux-de-frise_, that scarce any animal wouldhave attempted to get through. Such a fence will turn even the lion, unless when he has been rendered fierce and reckless by provocation. Of course a gap had been left for the cow to pass in and out, and thiswas closed by one immense bush, which served all the purpose of a gate. Such was the kraal of "old Graaf. " Besides the cow, the only livingthing that remained in camp was Trüey's little pet, the fawn of thegazelle. But on that very day another pet was added, a dear little creature, notless beautiful than the springbok, and of still more diminutiveproportions. That was the fawn of an "ourebi, "--one of the elegantlittle antelopes that are found in such variety over the plains and inthe "bush" of Southern Africa. It was to Hendrik they were indebted not only for this pet, but for adinner of delicate venison, which they had that day eaten, and which allof them, except Swartboy, preferred to elephant beef. Hendrik hadprocured the venison by a shot from his rifle, and in the followingmanner. About mid-day he went out--having fancied that upon a large grassymeadow near the camp he saw some animal. After walking abouthalf-a-mile, and keeping among bushes, around the edge of the meadow, hegot near enough to be sure that it was an animal he had observed, --forhe now saw two in the place he had marked. They were of a kind he had not met with before. They were very smallcreatures, --smaller even than springboks, --but, from their general formand appearance, Hendrik knew they were either antelopes or deer; and, asHans had told him there were no deer in Southern Africa, he concludedthey must be some species of antelope. They were a buck and doe, --thishe knew because one of them only carried horns. The buck was under twofeet in height, of slender make, and pale tawny colour. He waswhite-bellied, with white arches above the eyes, and some long whitehair under the throat. Below his knees were yellowish tufts of longhair; and his horns--instead of being lyrate, like those of thespringbok--rose nearly vertical to the height of four inches. They wereblack in colour, round-shaped, and slightly ringed. The doe was withouthorns, and was a much smaller animal than her mate. From all these marks Hendrik thought the little antelopes were"ourebis;" and such they were. He continued to stalk in upon them, until he was as close as he couldget. But he was still more than two hundred yards from them, and ofcourse far from being within shooting distance with his small rifle. A thick _jong dora_ bush concealed him, but he dared not go farther elsethe game would have taken the alarm. He could perceive that they wereshy creatures. Every now and again the buck would raise his graceful neck to its fullstretch, utter a slight bleating call, and look suspiciously around him. From these symptoms Hendrik drew the inference that it was shy game, andwould not be easily approached. He lay for a moment, thinking what he should do. He was to leeward ofthe game, as he had purposely gone there; but after a while, to hischagrin, he saw that they were feeding up the wind, and of coursewidening the distance between them and himself. It occurred to Hendrik that it might be their habit to browse up thewind, as springboks and some other species do. If so, he might as wellgive it up, or else make a long circuit and head them. To do this wouldbe a work of labour and of time, and a very uncertain stalk it would bein the end. After all his long tramping, and creeping, and crouching, the game would be like enough to scent him before they came withinshot--for it is for this very reason that their instinct teaches them tobrowse against, and not with the wind. As the plain was large, and the cover very distant, Hendrik wasdiscouraged and gave up the design he had half formed of trying to headthem. He was about to rise to his feet, and return home, when it occurred tohim that perhaps he might find a decoy available. He knew there wereseveral species of antelopes, with whom curiosity was stronger thanfear. He had often lured the springbok within reach. Why would not theseobey the same impulse? He determined to make trial. At the worst he could only fail, and he hadno chance of getting a shot otherwise. Without losing a moment he thrust his hand into his pocket. He shouldhave found there a large red handkerchief, which he had more than onceused for a similar purpose. To his chagrin it was not there! He dived into both pockets of his jacket, then into his wide trousers, then under the breast of his waistcoat. No. The handkerchief was not tobe found. Alas! it had been left in the wagon! It was very annoying. What else could he make use of? Take off his jacket and hold it up? Itwas not gay enough in colour. It would not do. Should he raise his hat upon the end of his gun? That might be better, but still it would look too much like the human form, and Hendrik knewthat all animals feared that. A happy thought at length occurred to him. He had heard, that with thecurious antelopes, strange forms or movements attract almost as much asglaring colours. He remembered a trick that was said to be practisedwith success by the hunters. It was easy enough, and consisted merely inthe hunter standing upon his hands and head, and kicking his heels inthe air! Now Hendrik happened to be one of those very boys who had oftenpractised this little bit of gymnastics for amusement and he could standupon his head like an acrobat. Without losing a moment he placed his rifle upon the ground, between hishands, and hoisting his feet into the air, commenced kicking them about, clinking them together, and crossing them in the most fantastic manner. He had placed himself so that his face was turned towards the animals, while he stood upon his head. Of course he could not see them while inthis position, as the grass was a foot high; but, at intervals, hepermitted his feet to descend to the earth; and then, by looking betweenhis legs, he could tell how the ruse was succeeding. It did succeed. The buck, on first perceiving the strange object, uttered a sharp whistle, and darted off with the swiftness of abird--for the "ourebi" is one of the swiftest of African antelopes. Thedoe followed, though not so fast, and soon fell into the rear. The buck, perceiving this, suddenly halted--as if ashamed of his want ofgallantry--wheeled round, and galloped back, until he was once morebetween the doe and the odd thing that had alarmed him. What could this odd thing be? he now seemed to inquire of himself. Itwas not a lion, nor a leopard, nor a hyena, nor yet a jackal. It wasneither fox, nor fennec, nor earth-wolf, nor wild hound, nor any of hiswell-known enemies. It was not a Bushman neither, for they are notdouble-headed as it appeared. What could it be? It had kept itsplace--it had not pursued him. Perhaps it was not at all dangerous. Nodoubt it was harmless enough. So reasoned the ourebi. His curiosity overcame his fear. He would go alittle nearer. He would have a better view of the thing before he tookto flight. No matter what it was, it could do no hurt at that distance;and as to overtaking him, pah! there wasn't a creature, biped orquadruped in all Africa that he could not fling dust in the face of. So he went a little nearer, and then a little nearer still, andcontinued to advance by successive runs, now this way and now that way, zigzagging over the plain, until he was within less than a hundred pacesof the odd object that at first sight had so terrified him. [Illustration: HENDRIK DECOYING THE OUREBIS. ] His companion, the doe, kept close after him; and seemed quite ascurious as himself--her large shining eyes opened to their full extent, as she stopped to gaze at intervals. Sometimes the two met each other in their course; and halted a moment, as though they held consultation in whispers; and asked each other ifthey had yet made out the character of the stranger. It was evident, however, that neither had done so--as they stillcontinued to approach it with looks and gestures of inquiry and wonder. At length the odd object disappeared for a moment under the grass; andthen reappeared--but this time in an altered form. Something about itglanced brightly under the sun, and this glancing quite fascinated thebuck, so that he could not stir from the spot, but stood eyeing itsteadily. Fatal fascination! It was his last gaze. A bright flash shotup--something struck him through the heart, and he saw the shiningobject no more! The doe bounded forward to where her mate had fallen, and stood bleatingover him. She knew not the cause of his sudden death, but she saw thathe was dead. The wound in his side--the stream of red blood--were underher eyes. She had never witnessed death in that form before, but sheknew her lover was dead. His silence--his form stretched along the grassmotionless and limber--his glassy eyes--all told her he had ceased tolive. She would have fled, but she could not leave him--she could not bear topart even from his lifeless form. She would remain a while, and mournover him. Her widowhood was a short one. Again flashed the priming, --again crackedthe shining tube--and the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of hermate. The young hunter rose to his feet, and ran forward. He did not, according to usual custom, stop to load before approaching his quarry. The plain was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon it. Whatwas his surprise on reaching the antelopes, to perceive that there was athird one of the party still alive! Yes, a little fawn, not taller than a rabbit, was bounding about throughthe grass, running around the prostrate body of its mother, and utteringits tiny bleat. Hendrik was surprised, because he had not observed this creature before;but, indeed, he had not seen much of the antelopes until the moment oftaking aim, and the grass had concealed the tiny young one. Hunter as Hendrik was, he could not help feeling strongly as he regardedthe _tableau_ before him. But he felt that he had not wantonly destroyedthese creatures for mere amusement, and that satisfied his conscience. The little fawn would make a famous pet for Jan, who had often wishedfor one, to be equal with his sister. It could be fed upon the cow'smilk, and, though it had lost both father and mother, Hendrik resolvedthat it should be carefully brought up. He had no difficulty incapturing it, as it refused to leave the spot where its mother lay, andHendrik soon held the gentle creature in his arms. He then tied the buck and doe together; and, having fastened a strongcord round the horns of the latter, he set off dragging the twoantelopes behind him. As these lay upon the ground, heads foremost, they were drawn with thegrain of the hair, which made it much easier; and as there was nothingbut grass sward to be passed over, the young hunter succeeded in takingthe whole of his game to camp without any great difficulty. The joy of all was great, at seeing such a fine lot of venison, butJan's rejoicing was greater than all; and he no longer envied Trüey thepossession of her little gazelle. CHAPTER XXIII. LITTLE JAN'S ADVENTURE. It would have been better that Jan had never seen the little"ourebi, "--better both for Jan and the antelope, for that night theinnocent creature was the cause of a terrible panic in the camp. They had all gone to sleep as on the previous night, --Von Bloom and thefour children in the wagon, while the Bushman and Totty slept upon thegrass. The latter lay under the wagon; but Swartboy had kindled a largefire a little distance from it, and beside this had stretched himself, rolled up in his sheep-skin kaross. They had all gone to sleep without being disturbed by the hyenas. Thiswas easily accounted for. The three horses that had been shot that dayoccupied the attention of these gentry, for their hideous voices couldbe heard off in the direction where the carcasses lay. Having enough togive them a supper, they found no occasion to risk themselves in theneighbourhood of the camp, where they had experienced such a hostilereception on the previous night. So reasoned Von Bloom, as he turnedover and fell asleep. He did not reason correctly, however. It was true that the hyenas werejust then making a meal upon the horses; but it was a mistake to supposethat that would satisfy these ravenous brutes, who never seem to haveenough. Long before morning, had Von Bloom been awake he would haveheard the maniac laugh closer to the camp, and might have seen the greeneyes of the hyena glancing under the expiring blaze of Swartboy'scamp-fire. Indeed, he had heard the beasts once that he awoke; but, knowing thatthe biltongue had been this night placed out of their reach, andthinking that there was nothing to which they could do any harm, he gaveno heed to their noisy demonstrations, and went to sleep again. He was awakened, however, by a shrill squeak, as of some animal in theagonies of death; and then there was a second squeak, that seemed to besuddenly interrupted by the stifling of the creature's utterance! In these cries Von Bloom, as well as the others--who were now alsoawake--recognised the bleat of the ourebi, for they had heard it severaltimes during the afternoon. "The hyenas are killing it!" thought they. But they had not time to sayso, before another and far different cry reached their ears, and causedthem all to start as if a bomb-shell had burst under the wagon. That crywas the voice of Jan, and sounded in the same direction whence came thescream of the stifled antelope! "O heaven! what could it mean?" The child's voice first reached them in a sudden screech--then there wasa confused noise resembling a scuffle--and Jan was again heard cryingaloud for help, while at the same time his voice was interrupted, andeach call appeared to come from a greater distance! Something orsomebody was carrying him off! This idea occurred to Von Bloom, Hans, and Hendrik, at the same instant. Of course it filled them with consternation; and, as they were scarceyet awake, they knew not what to do. The cries of Jan, however, soon brought them to their senses; and to runtowards the direction whence these came was the first thought of all. To grope for their guns would waste time, and all three leaped out ofthe wagon without them. Totty was upon her feet and jabbering, but she knew no more than theywhat had happened. They did not stop long to question her. The voice of Swartboy, utteredin loud barks and clicks, summoned them elsewhere; and they now beheld ared flaming brand rushing through the darkness, which no doubt wascarried in the hands of that worthy. They started off in the direction of the blazing torch, and ran as fastas they could. They still heard the Bushman's voice, and to their dismaybeyond it the screams of little Jan. Of course they could not tell what was causing all this. They onlypressed on with fearful apprehensions. When they had got within some fifty paces of the torch, they perceivedit suddenly descend, then raised again, and brought down, in a rapid andviolent manner! They could hear the voice of the Bushman barking andclicking louder than ever, as though he was engaged in chastising somecreature. But Jan's voice they no longer heard--he was screaming no more--was hedead? With terrible forebodings they rushed on. When they arrived upon the spot, a singular picture presented itself totheir eyes. Jan lay upon the ground, close in by the roots of somebushes which he was holding tightly in his grasp. From one of his wristsextended a stout thong, or _rheim_, which passed through among thebushes to the distance of several feet; and, fast to its other end, wasthe ourebi fawn, dead, and terribly mangled! Over the spot stoodSwartboy with his burning tree, which blazed all the brighter that hehad just been using it over the back of a ravenous hyena. The latter wasnot in sight. It had long since skulked off, but no one thought ofpursuit, as all were too anxious about Jan. No time was lost in lifting the child to his feet. The eyes of all raneagerly over him to see where he was wounded; and an exclamation of joysoon broke forth when they saw that, except the scratches of the thorns, and the deep track of a cord upon his wrist, nothing in the shape of awound could be discovered upon his diminutive body. He had now come tohimself, and assured them all that he was not hurt a bit. Hurrah! Janwas safe! It now fell to Jan's lot to explain all this mysterious business. He had been lying in the wagon along with the rest, but not like themasleep. No. He could not sleep a wink for thinking on his new pet, which, for want of room in the wagon, had been left below tied to one ofthe wheels. Jan had taken it into his head that he would like to have another lookat the ourebi before going to sleep. So, without saying a word to anyone, he crept out of the cap-tent, and descended to where the antelopewas tied. He unloosed it gently, and then led it forward to the light ofthe fire, where he sat down to admire the creature. After gazing upon it for some time with delight, he thought thatSwartboy could not do otherwise than share his feelings; and withoutmore ado, he shook the Bushman awake. The latter had no great stomach for being roused out of sleep to look atan animal, hundreds of which he had eaten in his time. But Jan andSwartboy were sworn friends, and the Bushman was not angry. He, therefore, indulged his young master in the fancy he had taken; and thetwo sat for a while conversing about the pet. At length Swartboy proposed sleep. Jan would agree to this only upon theterms that Swartboy would allow him to sleep alongside of him. He wouldbring his blanket from the wagon, and would not trouble Swartboy byrequiring part of the latter's kaross. Swartboy objected at first; but Jan urged that he had felt cold in thewagon, and that was partly why he had come down to the fire. All thiswas sheer cunning in the little imp. But Swartboy could not refuse himanything, and at length consented. He could see no harm in it, as therewere no signs of rain. Jan then returned to the wagon, climbed noiselessly up, drew out his ownblankets, and brought them to the fire. He then wrapped himself up, andlay down alongside of Swartboy, with the ourebi standing near, and insuch a situation that he could still have his eyes upon it, even whenlying. To secure it from wandering, he had fastened a strong rheimaround its neck, the other end of which he had looped tightly upon hisown wrist. He lay for some time contemplating his beautiful pet. But sleep atlength overcame him, and the image of the ourebi melted before his eyes. Beyond this Jan could tell little of what happened to him. He wasawakened by a sudden jerking at his wrist, and hearing the antelopescream. But he had not quite opened his eyes, before he felt himselfdragged violently over the ground. He thought at first it was Swartboy playing some trick upon him; but ashe passed the fire, he saw by its light that it was a huge black animalthat had seized the ourebi, and was dragging both him and it along. Of course he then began to scream for help, and caught at everything hecould to keep himself from being carried away. But he could lay hold ofnothing, until he found himself among thick bushes, and these he seizedand held with all his might. He could not have held out long against the strength of the hyena; butit was just at that moment that Swartboy came up with his fire-brand, and beat off the ravisher with a shower of blows. When they got back to the light of the fire they found that Jan was allright. But the poor ourebi--it had been sadly mauled, and was now of nomore value than a dead rat. CHAPTER XXIV. A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. Von Bloom now reflected that the hyenas were likely to prove a greatpest to him. No meat, nor anything, would be safe from them--even hisvery children would be in danger, if left alone in the camp; and nodoubt he would often be compelled to leave them, as he would require theolder ones upon his hunting excursions. There were other animals to be dreaded still more than the hyenas. Evenduring that night they had heard the roaring of lions down by the vley;and when it was morning, the spoor showed that several of these animalshad drunk at the water. How could he leave little Trüey--his dear little Trüey--or Jan, who wasnot a bit bigger--how could he leave them in an open camp while suchmonsters were roving about? He could not think of doing so. He reflected what course he should pursue. At first he thought ofputting up a house. That would necessarily be a work of time. There wasno good building material convenient. A stone house would cost a greatdeal of labour--as the stones would have to be carried nearly a mile, and in their hands too. That would never do, as Von Bloom might onlyremain a short while at that place. He might not find many elephantsthere, and of course would be under the necessity of going elsewhere. Why not build a log-house? you will say. That would not be so much of ajob, as part of the country was well wooded, and they had an axe. True, part of the country was wooded, but in a particular manner. Withthe exception of the nwana-trees, that stood at long distancesapart--and regularly, as if they had been planted--there was nothingthat deserved the name of timber. All the rest was mere "bush, "--athorny jungle of mimosas, euphorbias, arborescent aloes, strelitzias, and the horrid zamia plants, beautiful enough to the eye, but of noutility whatever in the building of a house. The nwanas, of course, weretoo large for house-logs. To have felled one of them would have been atask equal almost to the building of a house; and to have made planks ofthem would have required a steam saw-mill. A log-house was not to bethought of either. Now a frail structure of poles and thatch would not have givensufficient security. An angry rhinoceros, or elephant, would level sucha house to the ground in a few moments. Suppose, too, that there were man-eaters in the neighbourhood. Swartboybelieved that there were, and that that region was notorious for them. As it was not far from Swartboy's native country, Von Bloom, who hadreason to believe what the Bushman told him, was inclined to creditthis. What protection would a frail house afford against the man-eater?Not much, indeed. Von Bloom was puzzled and perplexed. He could not commence his huntingexcursions until this question was settled. Some place must be prepared, where the children would be safe during his absence. While revolving the subject in his mind, he happened to cast his eyesupward among the branches of the nwana-tree. All at once his attentionbecame fixed upon those huge limbs, for they had awakened within him astrange memory. He remembered having heard that, in some parts of thecountry, and perhaps not very far from where he then was, the nativeslive in trees. That sometimes a whole tribe, of fifty or more, maketheir home in a single tree; and do so to secure themselves againstsavage beasts, and sometimes equally savage men. That they build theirhouses upon platforms, which they erect upon the horizontal branches;and that they ascend by means of ladders, which are drawn up after themat night when they go to rest. All this Von Bloom had heard, and all of it is positively true. Ofcourse the reflection occurred to him, why could he not do the same? Whycould he not build a house in the gigantic nwana? That would give himall the security he desired. There they could all sleep with perfectconfidence of safety. There, on going out to hunt, he could leave thechildren, with the certainty of finding them on his return. An admirableidea!--how about its practicability? He began to consider this. If he only had planks to make a staging orplatform, the rest would be easy. Any slight roof would be sufficient upthere. The leaves almost formed a roof. But the flooring--this was thedifficulty. Where were planks to be got? Nowhere, in that neighbourhood. His eye, at that moment, chanced to fall upon the wagon. Ha! there wereplanks there. But to break up his beautiful wagon? No--no--no! Such athing was not to be thought of. But stay! there was no need to break itup--no need to knock out a single nail. It would serve every purposewithout breaking a splinter off it. The fine vehicle was made to take topieces, and put up again at will. He could take it to pieces. The broad bottom alone should remain whole. That of itself would be the platform. Hurrah! The field-cornet, excited with the development of this fine plan, nowcommunicated it to the others. All agreed that it was just the thing;and as the day was before them, they made no more ado, but set aboutcarrying out the design. A ladder thirty feet long had first to be constructed. This occupied agood while; but at length a stout rough article was knocked up, whichserved the purpose admirably. It gave them access to the lowermost limb;and from this they could construct steps to all the others. Von Bloom ascended, and after careful examination chose the site of theplatform. This was to rest upon two strong horizontal limbs of equalheight, and diverging very gradually from each other. The quantity ofthick branches in the great tree afforded him a choice. The wagon was now taken to pieces--a work of only a few minutes--and thefirst thing hauled up was the bottom. This was no slight performance, and required all the strength of the camp. Strong "rheims" were attachedto one end, and these were passed over a limb of the tree, still higherup than those on which the staging was to rest. One stood above to guidethe huge piece of plankwork, while all the rest exerted their strengthupon the ropes below. Even little Jan pulled with all his might--thougha single pound avoirdupois weight would have been about the measure ofhis strength. The piece was hoisted up, until it rested beautifully upon thesupporting limbs; and then a cheer rose from below, and was answered bySwartboy among the branches. The heaviest part of the work was over. The boxing of the wagon waspassed up, piece by piece, and set in its place just as before. Somebranches were lopped off to make room for the cap-tent; and then it wasalso hauled up, and mounted. By the time the sun set, everything was in its place; and the aërialhouse was ready for sleeping in. In fact, that very night they slept init, or, as Hans jocularly termed it, they all went to "roost. " But they did not consider their new habitation quite complete as yet. Next day they continued to labour upon it. By means of long poles theyextended their platform from the wagon quite up to the trunk of thetree, so as to give them a broad terrace to move about upon. The poles were fast wattled together by rods of the beautifulweeping-willow (_Salix Babylonica_), which is a native of these parts, and several trees of which grew by the side of the vley. Upon the top ofall, they laid a thick coating of clay, obtained from the edge of thelake; so that, if need be, they could actually kindle a fire, and cooktheir suppers in the tree. To make a still finer flooring, they procured a quantity of the materialof which the ant-hills are composed; which, being of a glutinous nature, makes a mortar almost as binding as Roman cement. After the main building had been finished off, Swartboy erected aplatform for himself, and one for Totty in another part of the amplenwana. Above each of these platforms he had constructed a roof orscreen, to shelter their occupants from rain or dew. There was something odd in the appearance of these two screens, each ofwhich was about the size of an ordinary umbrella. Their oddity consistedin the fact that they were ears of the elephant! CHAPTER XXV. THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. There was no longer anything to hinder the field-cornet from commencingthe real business of his new life, viz. , the hunting of the elephant. Heresolved, therefore, to begin at once; for until he should succeed in"bagging" a few of these giant animals, he was not easy in his mind. Hemight not be able to kill a single one; and then what would become ofall his grand hopes and calculations? They would end in disappointment, and he should find himself in as bad a condition as ever. Indeed worse: for to fail in any undertaking is not only to lose time, but energy of mind. Success begets genius, courage, andself-reliance--all of which contribute to new successes; while failureintimidates and leads to despair. In a psychological point of view it isa dangerous thing to fail in any undertaking; and, therefore, beforeundertaking anything, one should be well assured of its being possibleand practicable. Now Von Bloom was not sure that the great design he had formed waspracticable. But in this case, he had no choice. No other means oflivelihood was open to him just then; and he had resolved to make trialof this. He had faith in his calculations, and he had also good reasonto hope he would succeed; but the thing was yet untried. No wonder hewas in haste to begin the business--in haste to know what were hischances of success. By early day, therefore, he was up and out. Hendrik and Swartboy onlyaccompanied him, for he could not yet bring himself to leave thechildren with no other protection than Totty--almost as much a child asthemselves. Hans, therefore, remained by the camp. At first the hunters followed the little rivulet that ran from thespring and vley. They did so, because in this direction there was more"bush;" and they knew that elephants would be more likely to be found inwoods than in open places. Indeed, it was only near the banks of thestream that any great quantity of wood was to be seen. A broad belt ofjungle extended upon each side of it. After that, there were stragglinggroves and clumps; and then came the open plains, almost treeless, though covered with a rich carpet of grass for some distance farther. Tothis succeeded the wild karoo, stretching eastward and westward beyondthe reach of vision. Along the north, as already mentioned, trended theline of "bluffs"; and beyond these there was nothing but the parched andwaterless desert. To the south there lay the only thing that could becalled "woods;" and although such a low jungle could lay no claim to thetitle of "forest, " it was, nevertheless, a likely enough haunt forelephants. The trees consisted chiefly of mimosas--of several species, upon theleaves, roots, and tender shoots of which the great ruminant loves tobrowse. There were some "cameel-doorn" trees, with their shadyumbrella-like tops. But above all rose the massive heads of the nwanas, giving a peculiar character to the landscape. The hunters noticed, as they went on, that the channel of the rivuletbecame wider and larger, and that at times--no doubt after greatrains--a large quantity of water must have run in its bed, forming aconsiderable river. But as the channel grew larger, the reverse was thecase with the quantity of running water. The farther down they proceededthis became less and less; until, at the distance of a mile from camp, the current ceased altogether. For half-a-mile farther on they found water in stagnant pools, but nonerunning. The wide, dry channel, however, continued on as before; and the"bush" extended on both sides without interruption, so thick that theycould only make way by keeping in the channel itself. As they walked along, several kinds of small game were started. Hendrikwould gladly have taken a shot at some of these, but his father wouldnot permit him to fire just then. It might frighten away the great"game" they were in search of, and which they might fall in with at anymoment. On their return Hendrik might do his best; and then thefield-cornet intended to assist him in procuring an antelope, as therewas no fresh venison in the camp. This, however, was a consideration ofsecondary importance, and the first thing to be done was to try and geta pair of tusks. There was no objection to Swartboy using his bow, as that silent weaponwould cause no alarm. Swartboy had been taken along to carry the axe andother implements as well as to assist in the hunt. Of course he hadbrought his bow and quiver with him; and he was constantly on the watchfor something at which to let fly one of his little poisoned arrows. He found a mark at length worthy of his attention. On crossing the plainto avoid a large bend in the channel, they came upon a glade or openingof considerable size, and in the middle of this glade a huge birdappeared standing erect. "An ostrich!" exclaimed Hendrik. "No, " replied Swartboy; "um ar da pauw. " "Yes, " said Von Bloom, confirming Swartboy's statement, "it is thepauw. " Now a "pauw" in the Dutch language is a "peacock. " But there are nopeacocks in Africa. The peacock in its wild state inhabits only SouthernAsia and the islands of the Indian Archipelago. The bird they saw, then, could not be a peacock. Neither was it one. And yet it bore some resemblance to a peacock, withits long heavy tail and wings speckled and ocellated in a very strikingmanner, and something like the "marbled" feathers that adorn thepeacock's back. It had none of the brilliant colours, however, of thatproudest of birds, though it was quite as stately, and much larger andtaller. In fact, its great height and erect attitude was why Hendrik atfirst glance had taken it for an ostrich. It was neither peacock norostrich, but belonging to a different genus from either--to the genus_Otis_ or bustard. It was the great bustard of South Africa--the _Otiskori_--called "pauw" by the Dutch colonists, on account of its ocellatedplumage and other points of resemblance to the Indian peacock. Now Swartboy, as well as Von Bloom, knew that the pauw was one of themost delicious of fowls for the table. But they knew at the same timethat it was one of the shyest of birds, --so shy that it is verydifficult to get even a long shot at one. How, then, was it to beapproached within range of the Bushman's arrow? That was the point to beconsidered. Where it stood, it was full two hundred yards from them; and had itperceived them, it would soon have widened that distance, by running offtwo hundred more. I say running off, for birds of the bustard familyrarely take to wing, but use their long legs to escape from an enemy. Onthis account they are often hunted by dogs, and caught after a severechase. Although but poor flyers, they are splendid runners, --swiftalmost as the ostrich itself. The pauw, however, had not observed the hunters as yet. They had caughta glimpse of it, before appearing out of the bushes, and had halted assoon as they saw it. How was Swartboy to approach it? It was two hundred yards from anycover, and the ground was as clean as a new-raked meadow. True, theplain was not a large one. Indeed, Swartboy was rather surprised to seea pauw upon so small a one, for these birds frequent only the wide openkaroos, where they can sight their enemy at a great distance. The gladewas not large, but, after watching the bustard for some minutes, thehunters saw that it was resolved to keep near the centre, and showed nodisposition to feed in the direction of the thicket on either side. Any one but a Bushman would have despaired of getting a shot at thiskori; but Swartboy did not despair. Begging the others to remain quiet, he crept forward to the edge of thejungle, and placed himself behind a thick leafy bush. He then commenceduttering a call, exactly similar to that made by the male of the koriwhen challenging an adversary to combat. Like the grouse, the bustard is polygamous, and of course terriblyjealous and pugnacious, at certain seasons of the year. Swartboy knewthat it was just then the "fighting season" among the pauws, and hopedby imitating their challenge to draw the bird--a cock he saw itwas--within reach of his arrow. As soon as the kori heard the call, he raised himself to his fullheight, spread his immense tail, dropped his wings until the primaryfeathers trailed along the grass, and replied to the challenge. But what now astonished Swartboy was, that instead of one answer to hiscall, he fancied he heard two, simultaneously uttered! It proved to be no fancy, for before he could repeat the decoy the birdagain gave out its note of defiance, and was answered by a similar callfrom another quarter! Swartboy looked in the direction whence came the latter; and there sureenough, was a second kori, that seemed to have dropped from the regionof the clouds, or, more likely, had run out from the shelter of thebushes. At all events, it was a good way towards the centre of theplain, before the hunter had observed it. The two were now in full view of each other; and by their movements anyone might see that a combat was certain to come off. Sure of this, Swartboy did not call again; but remained silent behindhis bush. After a good while spent in strutting, and wheeling round and round, andputting themselves in the most threatening attitudes, and uttering themost insulting expressions, the two koris became sufficiently provokedto begin the battle. They "clinched" in gallant style, using all threeweapons, --wings, beak, and feet. Now they struck each other with theirwings, now pecked with their bills; and at intervals, when a goodopportunity offered, gave each other a smart kick--which, with theirlong muscular legs, they were enabled to deliver with considerableforce. Swartboy knew that when they were well into the fight, he might stalk inupon them unobserved; so he waited patiently, till the proper momentshould arrive. In a few seconds it became evident, he would not have to move from hisambush; for the birds were fighting towards him. He adjusted his arrowto the string, and waited. In five minutes the birds were fighting within thirty yards of the spotwhere the Bushman lay. The twang of a bowstring might have been heard byone of the koris, had he been listening. The other could not possiblyhave heard it; for before the sound could have reached him, a poisonedarrow was sticking through his ears. The barb had passed through, andthe shaft remained in his head, piercing it crosswise! Of course the bird dropped dead upon the grass, less astonished than hisantagonist. The latter at first imagined he had done it, and began to strut verytriumphantly around his fallen foe. But his eye now fell upon the arrow sticking through the head of thelatter. He knew nothing about that. He had not done that! What thedeuce---- Perhaps if he had been allowed another moment's reflection, he wouldhave taken to his heels; but before he could make up his mind about thematter, there was another "twang" of the bowstring another arrowwhistled through the air, and another kori lay stretched upon the grass! Swartboy now rushed forward, and took possession of the game; whichproved to be a pair of young cocks, in prime condition for roasting. Having hung the birds over a high branch, so as to secure them fromjackals and hyenas, the hunters continued on; and shortly after, havingre-entered the channel of the stream, continued to follow it downward. CHAPTER XXVI. UPON THE SPOOR. They had not gone above an hundred yards farther, when they came to oneof the pools, already spoken of. It was a tolerably large one; and themud around its edges bore the hoof-prints of numerous animals. This thehunters saw from a distance, but on reaching the spot, Swartboy, alittle in the advance, turned suddenly round, and, with rolling orbs andquivering lips, clicked out the words, -- "Mein baas! mein baas! da klow! spoor ob da groot olifant!" There was no danger of mistaking the spoor of the elephant for that ofany other creature. There, sure enough, were the great roundtracks--full twenty-four inches in length, and nearly as wide--deeplyimprinted in the mud by the enormous weight of the animal's body. Eachformed an immense hole, large enough to have set a gate-post in. The hunters contemplated the spoor with emotions of pleasure--the moreso that the tracks had been recently made. This was evident. Thedisplaced mud had not yet crusted, but looked damp and fresh. It hadbeen stirred within the hour. Only one elephant had visited the pool that night. There were many oldtracks, but only one fresh spoor, --and that of an old and very largebull. Of course the tracks told this much. To make a spoor twenty-four incheslong, requires the animal to be a very large one; and to be very large, he should be a bull, and an old one too. Well, the older and larger the better, provided his tusks have not beenbroken by some accident. When that happens they are never recoveredagain. The elephant does cast his tusks, but only in the juvenile state, when they are not bigger than lobster's claws; and the pair thatsucceeds these is permanent, and has to last him for life--perhaps forcenturies--for no one can tell how long the mighty elephant roams overthis sublunary planet. When the tusks get broken--a not uncommon thing--he must remaintoothless or "tuskless" for the rest of his life. Although the elephantmay consider the loss of his huge tusks a great calamity, were he only alittle wiser, he would break them off against the first tree. It would, in all probability, be the means of prolonging his life; for the hunterwould not then consider him worth the ammunition it usually takes tokill him. After a short consultation among the hunters, Swartboy started off uponthe spoor, followed by Von Bloom and Hendrik. It led straight out fromthe channel, and across the jungle. Usually the bushes mark the course of an elephant, where these are ofthe sort he feeds upon. In this case he had not fed; but the Bushman, who could follow spoor with a hound, had no difficulty in keeping on thetrack, as fast as the three were able to travel. They emerged into open glades; and, after passing through several ofthese, came upon a large ant-hill that stood in the middle of one of theopenings. The elephant had passed close to the ant-hill--he had stoppedthere awhile--stay, he must have lain down. Von Bloom did not know that elephants were in the habit of lying down. He had always heard it said that they slept standing. Swartboy knewbetter than that. He said that they sometimes slept standing, butoftener lay down, especially in districts where they were not muchhunted. Swartboy considered it a good sign that this one had lain down. He reasoned from it that the elephants had not been disturbed in thatneighbourhood, and would be the more easily approached and killed. Theywould be less likely to make off from that part of the country, untilthey--the hunters--had had a "good pull" out of them. This last consideration was one of great importance. In a district whereelephants have been much hunted, and have learnt what the crack of a gunsignifies, a single day's chase will often set them travelling; and theywill not bring up again, until they have gone far beyond the reach ofthe hunters. Not only the particular individuals that have been chasedact in this way; but all the others, --as though warned by theircompanions, --until not an elephant remains in the district. Thismigratory habit is one of the chief difficulties which theelephant-hunter must needs encounter; and, when it occurs, he has noother resource but to change his "sphere of action. " On the other hand, where elephants have remained for a long timeundisturbed, the report of a gun does not terrify them; and they willbear a good deal of hunting before "showing their heels" and leaving theplace. Swartboy, therefore, rejoiced on perceiving that the old bull had laindown. The Bushman drew a world of conclusions from that circumstance. That the elephant had been lying was clear enough. The abrasion upon thestiff mud of the ant-heap showed where his back had rested, --the mark ofhis body was visible in the dust, and a groove-like furrow in the turfhad been made by his huge tusk. A huge one it must have been, as theimpression of it testified to the keen eyes of the Bushman. Swartboy stated some curious facts about the great quadruped, --at least, what he alleged to be facts. They were, --that the elephant neverattempts to lie down without having something to lean his shouldersagainst, --a rock, an ant-hill, or a tree; that he does this to preventhimself rolling over on his back, --that when he does by accident getinto that position he has great difficulty in rising again, and isalmost as helpless as a turtle; and, lastly, that he often sleepsstanding beside a tree with the whole weight of his body leaning againstthe trunk! Swartboy did not think that he leans against the trunk when first takingup his position; but that he seeks the tree for the shade it affords, and as sleep overcomes him he inclines towards it, finding that itsteadies and rests him! The Bushman stated, moreover, that some elephants have their favouritetrees, to which they return again and again to take a nap during the hotmid-day hours, --for that is their time of repose. At night they do notsleep. On the contrary, the hours of night are spent in ranging about, on journeys to the distant watering-places, and in feeding; though inremote and quiet districts they also feed by day--so that it is probablethat most of their nocturnal activity is the result of their dread oftheir watchful enemy, man. Swartboy communicated these facts, as the hunters all together followedupon the spoor. The traces of the elephant were now of a different character, from whatthey had been before arriving at the ant-hill. He had been browsing ashe went. His nap had brought a return of appetite; and the wait-a-bitthorns showed the marks of his prehensile trunk. Here and there brancheswere broken off, stripped clean of their leaves, and the ligneous partsleft upon the ground. In several places whole trees were torn up bytheir roots, and those, too, of considerable size. This the elephantsometimes does to get at their foliage, which upon such trees growsbeyond the reach of his proboscis. By prostrating them of course he getstheir whole frondage within easy distance of his elastic nose, and canstrip it off at pleasure. At times, however, he tears up a tree to make a meal of its roots--asthere are several species with sweet juicy roots, of which the elephantis extremely fond. These he drags out of the ground with his trunk, having first loosened them with his tusks, used as crowbars. At times hefails to effect his purpose; and it is only when the ground is loose orwet, as after great rains, that he can uproot the larger kinds ofmimosas. Sometimes he is capricious; and, after drawing a tree from theground, he carries it many yards along with him, flings it to theground, root upwards, and then leaves it, after taking a singlemouthful. Destructive to the forest is the passage of a troop ofelephants! Small trees he can tear up with his trunk alone, but to the larger oneshe applies the more powerful leverage of his tusks. These he insertsunder the roots, imbedded as they usually are in loose sandy earth, andthen, with a quick jerk, he tosses roots, trunk, and branches, high intothe air, --a wonderful exhibition of gigantic power. The hunters saw all these proofs of it, as they followed the spoor. Thetraces of the elephant's strength were visible all along the route. It was enough to beget fear and awe, and none of them were free fromsuch feelings. With so much disposition to commit havoc and ruin in hismoments of quietude, what would such a creature be in the hour ofexcitement and anger? No wonder there was fear in the hearts of thehunters, unpractised as some of them were. Still another consideration had its effect upon their minds, particularly on that of the Bushman. There was every reason to believethat the animal was a "rover, "--what among Indian hunters is termed a"rogue. " Elephants of this kind are far more dangerous to approach thantheir fellows. In fact, under ordinary circumstances, there is no moredanger in passing through a herd of elephants than there would be ingoing among a drove of tame oxen. It is only when the elephant has beenattacked or wounded, that he becomes a dangerous enemy. With regard to the "rover" or "rogue, " the case is quite different. Heis habitually vicious; and will assail either man or any other animal onsight, and without the slightest provocation. He seems to take apleasure in destruction, and woe to the creature who crosses his pathand is not of lighter heels than himself! The rover leads a solitary life, rambling alone through the forest, andnever associating with others of his kind. He appears to be a sort ofoutlaw from his tribe, banished for bad temper or some other fault, tobecome more fierce and wicked in his outlawry. There were good reasons for fearing that the elephant they were spooringwas a "rover. " His being alone was of itself a suspicious circumstance, as elephants usually go, from two to twenty, or even fifty, in a herd. The traces of ruin he had left behind him, his immense spoor, all seemedto mark him out as one of these fierce creatures. That such existed inthat district they already had evidence. Swartboy alleged that the onekilled by the rhinoceros was of this class, else he would not haveattacked the latter as he had done. There was a good deal of probabilityin this belief of the Bushman. Under these impressions, then, it is less to be wondered, that ourhunters felt some apprehensions of danger from the game they werepursuing. The spoor grew fresher and fresher. The hunters saw trees turned bottomupward, the roots exhibiting the marks of the elephant's teeth, andstill wet with the saliva from his vast mouth. They saw broken branchesof the mimosa giving out their odour, that had not had time to wasteitself. They concluded the game could not be distant. They rounded a point of timber--the Bushman being a little in theadvance. Suddenly Swartboy stopped and fell back a pace. He turned his face uponhis companions. His eyes rolled faster than ever; but, although his lipsappeared to move, and his tongue to wag, he was too excited to giveutterance to a word. A volley of clicks and hisses came forth, butnothing articulate. The others, however, did not require any words to tell them what wasmeant. They knew that Swartboy intended to whisper that he had seen "daoliphant;" so both peeped silently around the bush, and with their owneyes looked upon the mighty quadruped. CHAPTER XXVII. A ROGUE ELEPHANT. The elephant was standing in a grove of _mokhala_ trees. These, unlikethe humbler mimosas, have tall naked stems, with heads of thick foliage, in form resembling an umbrella or parasol. Their pinnate leaves ofdelicate green are the favourite food of the giraffe, hence theirbotanical appellation of _Acacia giraffĉ_; and hence also their commonname among the Dutch hunters of "cameel-doorns" (camel-thorns). The tall giraffe, with his prehensile lip, raised nearly twenty feet inthe air, can browse upon these trees without difficulty. Not so theelephant, whose trunk cannot reach so high; and the latter would oftenhave to imitate the fox in the fable, were he not possessed of a meanswhereby he can bring the tempting morsel within reach--that is, simplyby breaking down the tree. This his vast strength enables him to do, unless when the trunk happens to be one of the largest of its kind. When the eyes of our hunters first rested upon the elephant, he wasstanding by the head of a prostrate mokhala, which he had just brokenoff near the root. He was tearing away at the leaves, and filling hiscapacious stomach. As soon as Swartboy recovered the control over his tongue, he ejaculatedin a hurried whisper:-- "Pas op! (take care!) baas Bloom, --hab good care--don't go near um--heda skellum ole klow. My footy! he wicked!--I know de ole bull duyvel. " By this volley of queer phrases, Swartboy meant to caution his masteragainst rashly approaching the elephant, as he knew him to be one of thewicked sort--in short, a "rogue. " How Swartboy knew this would appear a mystery, as there were noparticular marks about the animal to distinguish him from others of hiskind. But the Bushman, with his practised eye, saw something in thegeneral physiognomy of the elephant--just as one may distinguish afierce and dangerous bull from those of milder disposition, or a badfrom a virtuous man, by some expression that one cannot define. Von Bloom himself, and even Hendrik, saw that the elephant had a fierceand ruffian look. They did not stand in need of Swartboy's advice to act with caution. They remained for some minutes, gazing through the bushes at the hugequadruped. The more they gazed, the more they became resolved to make anattack upon him. The sight of his long tusks was too tempting to VonBloom, to admit for a moment the thought of letting him escape without afight. A couple of bullets he should have into him, at all events; andif opportunity offered, a good many more, should these not besufficient. Von Bloom would not relinquish those fine tusks without astruggle. He at once set about considering the safest mode of attack; but was notallowed time to mature any plan. The elephant appeared to be restless, and was evidently about to move forward. He might be off in a moment, and carry them after him for miles, or, perhaps, in the thick cover ofwait-a-bits get lost to them altogether. These conjectures caused Von Bloom to decide at once upon beginning theattack, and without any other plan than to stalk in as near as would besafe, and deliver his fire. He had heard that a single bullet in theforehead would kill any elephant; and if he could only get in such aposition as to have a fair shot at the animal's front, he believed hewas marksman enough to plant his bullet in the right place. He was mistaken as to killing an elephant with a shot in the forehead. That is a notion of gentlemen who have hunted the elephant in theirclosets--though other closet gentlemen--the anatomists--to whom give alldue credit--have shown the thing to be impossible, from the peculiarstructure of the elephant's skull and the position of his brain. Von Bloom at the time was under this wrong impression, and thereforecommitted a grand mistake. Instead of seeking a side shot, which hecould have obtained with far less trouble--he decided on creeping roundin front of the elephant, and firing right in the animal's face. Leaving Hendrik and Swartboy to attack him from behind, he took acircuit under cover of the bushes; and at length arrived in the path theelephant was most likely to take. He had scarcely gained his position, when he saw the huge animal comingtowards him with silent and majestic tread; and although the elephantonly walked, half-a-dozen of his gigantic strides brought him close upto the ambushed hunter. As yet the creature uttered no cry; but as hemoved, Von Bloom could hear a rumbling gurgling sound, as of waterdashing to and fro in his capacious stomach! Von Bloom had taken up his position behind the trunk of a large tree. The elephant had not yet seen him, and, perhaps, would have passed onwithout knowing that he was there, had the hunter permitted him. Thelatter even thought of such a thing, for although a man of courage, thesight of the great forest giant caused him for a moment to quail. But, again, the curving ivory gleamed in his eyes--again he rememberedthe object that had brought him into that situation; he thought of hisfallen fortunes--of his resolve to retrieve them--of his children'swelfare. These thoughts resolved him. His long roer was laid over a knot in thetrunk--its muzzle pointed at the forehead of the advancing elephant--hiseye gleamed through the sights--the loud detonation followed--and acloud of smoke for a moment hid everything from his view. He could hear a hoarse, bellowing, trumpet-like sound--he could hear thecrashing of branches and the gurgling of water; and, when, the smokecleared away, to his chagrin he saw that the elephant was still upon hisfeet, and evidently not injured in the least! The shot had struck the animal exactly where the hunter had aimed it;but, instead of inflicting a mortal wound, it had only excited thecreature to extreme rage. He was now charging about striking the treeswith his tusks, tearing branches off, and tossing them aloft with histrunk--though all the while evidently in ignorance of what had tickledhim so impertinently upon the forehead! Fortunately for Von Bloom, a good thick tree sheltered him from the viewof the elephant. Had the enraged animal caught sight of him at thatmoment, it would have been all up with him; but the hunter knew this, and had the coolness to remain close and quiet. Not so with Swartboy. When the elephant moved forward, he and Hendrikhad crept after through the grove of mokhalas. They had even followedhim across the open ground into the bush, where Von Bloom awaited him. On hearing the shot, and seeing that the elephant was still unhurt, Swartboy's courage gave way; and leaving Hendrik, he ran back towardsthe mokhala grove, shouting as he went. His cries reached the ears of the elephant, that at once rushed off inthe direction in which he heard them. In a moment he emerged from thebush, and, seeing Swartboy upon the open ground, charged furiously afterthe flying Bushman. Hendrik--who had stood his ground, and in theshelter of the bushes was not perceived--delivered his shot as theanimal passed him. His ball told upon the shoulder, but it only servedto increase the elephant's fury. Without stopping, he rushed on afterSwartboy, believing, no doubt, that the poor Bushman was the cause ofthe hurts he was receiving, and the nature of which he but illunderstood. It was but a few moments, from the firing of the first shot, untilthings took this turn. Swartboy was hardly clear of the bushes beforethe elephant emerged also; and as the former struck out for the mokhalatrees, he was scarce six steps ahead of his pursuer. Swartboy's object was to get to the grove, in the midst of which wereseveral trees of large size. One of these he proposed climbing--as thatseemed his only chance for safety. He had not got half over the open ground, when he perceived he would betoo late. He heard the heavy rush of the huge monster behind him--heheard his loud and vengeful bellowing--he fancied he felt his hotbreath. There was still a good distance to be run. The climbing of thetree, beyond the reach of the elephant's trunk, would occupy time. Therewas no hope of escaping to the tree. These reflections occurred almost instantaneously. In ten secondsSwartboy arrived at the conclusion, that running to the tree would notsave him; and all at once he stopped in his career, wheeled round, andfaced the elephant! Not that he had formed any plan of saving himself in that way. It wasnot bravery, but only despair, that caused him to turn upon his pursuer. He knew that, by running on, he would surely be overtaken. It could beno worse if he faced round; and, perhaps, he might avoid the fatalcharge by some dexterous manoeuvre. The Bushman was now right in the middle of the open ground; the elephantrushing straight towards him. The former had no weapon to oppose to his gigantic pursuer. He hadthrown away his bow--his axe too--to run the more nimbly. But neitherwould have been of any avail against such an antagonist. He carriednothing but his sheep-skin kaross. That had encumbered him in hisflight; but he had held on to it for a purpose. His purpose was soon displayed. He stood until the extended trunk was within three feet of his face; andthen, flinging his kaross so that it should fall over the long cylinder, he sprang nimbly to one side, and started to run back. He would, no doubt, have succeeded in passing to the elephant's rear, and thus have escaped; but as the kaross fell upon the great trunk itwas seized in the latter, and swept suddenly around. UnfortunatelySwartboy's legs had not yet cleared the circle--the kaross lapped aroundthem--and the Bushman was thrown sprawling upon the plain. In a moment the active Swartboy recovered his feet, and was about tomake off in a new direction. But the elephant, having discovered thedeception of the kaross, had dropped it, and turned suddenly after him. Swartboy had hardly made three steps, when the long ivory curve wasinserted between his legs from behind; and the next moment his body waspitched high into the air. Von Bloom and Hendrik, who had just then reached the edge of the glade, saw him go up; but to their astonishment he did not come to the groundagain! Had he fallen back upon the elephant's tusks? and was he heldthere by the trunk? No. They saw the animal's head. The Bushman was notthere, nor upon his back, nor anywhere to be seen. In fact, the elephantseemed as much astonished as they at the sudden disappearance of hisvictim! The huge beast was turning his eyes in every direction, as ifsearching for the object of his fury! [Illustration: SWARTBOY IN A PREDICAMENT. ] Where could Swartboy have gone? Where? At this moment the elephant gavea loud roar, and was seen rushing to a tree, which he now caught in histrunk, and shook violently. Von Bloom and Hendrik looked up towards itstop, expecting to see Swartboy there. Sure enough he was there, perchedamong the leaves and branches where he had been projected! Terror wasdepicted in his countenance, for he felt that he was not safe in hisposition. But he had scarce time to give utterance to his fears; for thenext moment the tree gave way with a crash, and fell to the ground, bringing the Bushman down among its branches. It happened that the tree, dragged down by the elephant's trunk, felltowards the animal. Swartboy even touched the elephant's body in hisdescent, and slipped down over his hind-quarters. The branches hadbroken the fall, and the Bushman was still unhurt, but he felt that hewas now quite at the mercy of his antagonist. He saw no chance of escapeby flight. He was lost! Just at that moment an idea entered his mind--a sort of despairinginstinct--and springing at one of the hind-legs of the quadruped, heslung his arms around it, and held fast! He at the same time planted hisnaked feet upon the sabots of those of the animal; so that, by means ofthis support, he was enabled to keep his hold, let the animal move as itwould! The huge mammoth, unable to shake him off, unable to get at him with histrunk--and, above all, surprised and terrified by this novel mode ofattack--uttered a shrill scream, and with tail erect and trunk high inair, dashed off into the jungle! Swartboy held on to the leg until fairly within the bushes; and then, watching his opportunity, he slipped gently off. As soon as he touched_terra firma_ again, he rose to his feet, and ran with all his might inan opposite direction. He need not have run a single step; for the elephant, as much frightenedas he, kept on through the jungle, laying waste the trees and branchesin his onward course. The huge quadruped did not stop, till he had putmany miles between himself and the scene of his disagreeable adventure! Von Bloom and Hendrik had by this time reloaded, and were advancing toSwartboy's rescue; but they were met right in the teeth by theswift-flying Bushman, as he returned from his miraculous escape. The hunters, who were now warmed to their work, proposed to follow upthe spoor; but Swartboy, who had enough of that "old rogue, " declaredthat there would be not the slightest chance of again coming up with himwithout horses or dogs; and as they had neither, spooring him anyfarther would be quite useless. Von Bloom saw that there was truth in the remark, and now more than everdid he regret the loss of his horses. The elephant, though easilyovertaken on horseback, or with dogs to bring him to bay, can as easilyescape from a hunter on foot; and once he has made up his mind toflight, it is quite a lost labour to follow him farther. It was now too late in the day to seek for other elephants; and with afeeling of disappointment, the hunters gave up the chase, and turnedtheir steps in the direction of the camp. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MISSING HUNTER, AND THE WILDEBEESTS. A well-known proverb says that "misfortunes seldom come single. " On nearing the camp, the hunters could perceive that all was not rightthere. They saw Totty with Trüey and Jan standing by the head of theladder; but there was something in their manner that told that all wasnot right. Where was Hans? As soon as the hunters came in sight, Jan and Trüey ran down the rounds, and out to meet them. There was that in their glances that bespoke illtidings, and their words soon confirmed this conjecture. Hans was not there--he had gone away hours ago--they knew not where, they feared something had happened to him, --they feared he was lost! "But what took him away from the camp?" asked Von Bloom, surprised andtroubled at the news. That, and only that could they answer. A number of odd-lookinganimals--very odd-looking, the children said, --had come to the vley todrink. Hans had taken his gun and followed them in a great hurry, telling Trüey and Jan to keep in the tree, and not come down until hereturned. He would be gone only a very little while, and they needn'tfear. This was all they knew. They could not even tell what direction he hadtaken. He went by the lower end of the vley; but soon the bushes hid himfrom their view, and they saw no more of him. "At what time was it?" It was many hours ago, --in the morning in fact, --not long after thehunters themselves had started. When he did not return the children grewuneasy; but they thought he had fallen in with papa and Hendrik, and washelping them to hunt; and that was the reason why he stayed so long. "Had they heard any report of a gun?" No--they had listened for that, but heard none. The animals had goneaway before Hans could get his gun ready; and they supposed he had tofollow some distance, before he could overtake them--that might be thereason they had heard no shot. "What sort of animals were they?" They had all seen them plain enough, as they drank. They had never seenany of the kind before. They were large animals of a yellow-browncolour, with shaggy manes, and long tufts of hair growing out of theirbreasts, and hanging down between their fore-legs. They were as big asponies, said Jan, and very like ponies. They curvetted and capered aboutjust as ponies do sometimes. Trüey thought that they looked more likelions! "Lions!" ejaculated her father and Hendrik, with an accent thatbetokened alarm. Indeed, they reminded her of lions, Trüey again affirmed, and Totty saidthe same. "How many were there of them?" "Oh! a great drove, not less than fifty. " They could not have countedthem, as they were constantly in motion, galloping from place to place, and butting each other with their horns. "Ha! they had horns then?" interrogated Von Bloom, relieved by thisannouncement. Certainly they had horns, replied all three. They had seen the horns, sharp-pointed ones, which first came down, andthen turned upwards in front of the animals' faces. They had manes too, Jan affirmed; and thick necks that curved like that of a beautifulhorse; and tufts of hair like brushes upon their noses; and nice roundbodies like ponies, and long white tails that reached near the ground, just like the tails of ponies, and finely-shaped limbs as ponies have. "I tell you, " continued Jan, with emphasis, "if it hadn't been for theirhorns and the brushes of long hair upon their breasts and noses, I'dhave taken them for ponies before anything. They galloped about justlike ponies when playing, and ran with their heads down, curving theirnecks and tossing their manes, --aye, and snorting too, as I've heardponies; but sometimes they bellowed more like bulls; and, I confess, they looked a good deal like bulls about the head; besides I noticedthey had hoofs split like cattle. Oh! I had a good look at them whileHans was loading his gun. They stayed by the water till he was nearlyready; and when they galloped off, they went in a long string one behindthe other with the largest one in front, and another large one in therear. " "Wildebeests!" exclaimed Hendrik. "Gnoos!" cried Swartboy. "Yes, they must have been wildebeests, " said Von Bloom; "Jan'sdescription corresponds exactly to them. " This was quite true. Jan had correctly given many of the characteristicpoints of that, perhaps, the most singular of all ruminant animals, thewildebeest or gnoo (_Catoblepas gnoo_). The brush-like tuft over themuzzle, the long hair between the fore-legs, the horns curving down overthe face, and then sweeping abruptly upward, the thick curving neck, therounded, compact, horse-shaped body, the long whitish tail, and fullflowing mane--all were descriptive of the gnoo. Even Trüey had not made such an unpardonable mistake. The gnoos, andparticularly the old bulls, bear a very striking resemblance to thelion, so much so that the sharpest hunters at a distance can scarce tellone from the other. Jan, however, had observed them better than Trüey; and had they beennearer, he might have further noticed that the creatures had red fieryeyes and a fierce look; that their heads and horns were not unlike thoseof the African buffalo; that their limbs resembled those of the stag, while the rest corresponded well enough to his "pony. " He might haveobserved, moreover, that the males were larger than the females, and ofa deeper brown. Had there been any "calves" with the herd, he would haveseen that these were still lighter-coloured--in fact, of a white orcream colour. The gnoos that had been seen were the common kind called by the Dutchcolonists "wildebeests" or wild-oxen, and by the Hottentots "gnoo" or"gnu, " from a hollow moaning sound to which these creatures sometimesgive utterance, and which is represented by the word "gnoo-o-oo. " They roam in vast flocks upon the wild karoos of South Africa: areinoffensive animals, except when wounded: and then the old bulls areexceedingly dangerous, and will attack the hunter both with horns andhoof. They can run with great swiftness, though they scarce ever goclear off, but, keeping at a wary distance, circle around the hunter, curvetting in all directions, menacing with their heads lowered to theground, kicking up the dust with their heels, and bellowing like bulls, or indeed like lions--for their "rout" bears a resemblance to the lion'sroar. The old bulls stand sentry while the herd is feeding, and protect itboth in front and rear. When running off they usually go in single file, as Jan had represented. Old bulls hang between the rear of the herd and the hunter: and thesecaper back and forward, butting each other with their horns, and oftenfighting apparently in serious earnest! Before the hunter comes withinrange, however, they drop their conflict and gallop out of his way. Nothing can exceed the capricious antics which these animals indulge in, while trooping over the plain. There is a second species of the same genus common in South Africa, anda third inhabits still farther to the north; but of the last very littleis known. Both species are larger than the wildebeest, individuals ofeither being nearly five feet in height, while the common gnoo is scarcefour. The three kinds are quite distinct, and never herd together, though eachof them is often found in company with other animals. All three arepeculiar to the continent of Africa, and are not found elsewhere. The "brindled gnoo" is the other species that inhabits the South ofAfrica. It is known among the hunters and colonists as "blauwwildebeest" (blue wild-ox). It is of a bluish colour--hence the name, and "brindled, " or striped along the sides. Its habits are very similarto those of the common gnoo, but it is altogether a heavier and dulleranimal, and still more eccentric and ungainly in its form. The third species is the "ko-koon" of the natives. It approaches nearerto the brindled gnoo in form and habits; but as it is not found exceptin the more central and less-travelled portions of Africa, less is knownabout it than either of the others. It is, however, of the same kind;and the three species, differing widely from any other animals known, are entitled to form a distinct and separate genus. They have hitherto generally been classed with the antelopes, though forwhat reason it is hard to tell. They have far less affinity with theantelope than with the ox; and the everyday observations of the hunterand frontier boer have guided them to a similar conclusion--as theirname for these animals (wild-oxen) would imply. Observation of thisclass is usually worth far more than the "speculations" of thecloset-naturalist. The gnoo has long been the favourite food of the frontier farmer andhunter. Its beef is well flavoured, and the veal of a gnoo-calf is quitea delicacy. The hide is manufactured into harness and straps ofdifferent sorts; and the long silky tail is an article of commerce. Around every frontier farm-house large piles of gnoo and springbok hornsmay be seen--the remains of animals that have been captured in thechase. "Jaging de wildebeest" (hunting the gnoo) is a favourite pastime of theyoung boers. Large herds of these animals are sometimes driven intovalleys, where they are hemmed in, and shot down at will. They can alsobe lured within range, by exhibiting a red handkerchief or any piece ofred cloth--to which colour they have a strong aversion. They may betamed and domesticated easily enough; but they are not favourite petswith the farmer, who dreads their communicating to his cattle a fatalskin-disease to which the gnoos are subject, and which carries offthousands of them every year. Of course Von Bloom and his companions did not stay to talk over thesepoints. They were too anxious about the fate of the missing Hans, tothink of anything else. They were about to start out in search of him, when just at that momentmy gentleman was seen coming around the end of the lake, trudging veryslowly along, under the weight of some large and heavy object, that hecarried upon his shoulders. A shout of joy was raised, and in a few moments Hans stood in theirmidst. CHAPTER XXIX. THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA. Hans was saluted by a volley of questions, "Where have you been? Whatdetained you? What has happened to you? You're all safe and sound? Nothurt, I hope?" These and a few others were asked in a breath. "I'm sound as a bell, " said Hans; "and for the rest of your inquiriesI'll answer them all as soon as Swartboy has skinned this 'aard-vark, 'and Totty has cooked a piece of it for supper; but I'm too hungry totalk now, so pray excuse me. " As Hans gave this reply, he cast from his shoulders an animal nearly asbig as a sheep, covered with long bristly hair of a reddish-grey colour, and having a huge tail, thick at the root, and tapering like a carrot; asnout nearly a foot long, but quite slender and naked; a very smallmouth; erect pointed ears resembling a pair of horns; a low flattishbody; short muscular legs; and claws of immense length, especially onthe fore-feet, where, instead of spreading out, they were doubled backlike shut fists, or the fore hands of a monkey. Altogether a very oddanimal was that which Hans had styled an "aard-vark, " and which hedesired should be cooked for supper. "Well, my boy, " replied Von Bloom, "we'll excuse you, the more so thatwe are all of us about as hungry as yourself, I fancy. But I think wemay as well leave the 'aard-vark' for to-morrow's dinner. We've a coupleof peacocks here, and Totty will get one of them ready sooner than theaard-vark. " "As for that, " rejoined Hans, "I don't care which. I'm just in thecondition to eat anything--even a steak of tough old quagga, if I hadit; but I think it would be no harm if Swartboy--that is, if you're nottoo tired, old Swart--would just peel the skin off this gentleman. " Hans pointed to the "aard-vark. " "And dress him so that he don't spoil, " he continued; "for you know, Swartboy, that he's a tit-bit--a regular _bonne bouche_--and it would bea pity to let him go to waste in this hot weather. An aard-vark's not tobe bagged every day. " "You spreichen true, Mynheer Hans, --Swartboy know all dat. Him skin anddress da goup. " And, so saying, Swartboy out knife, and set to work upon the carcass. Now this singular-looking animal which Hans called an "aard-vark, " andSwartboy a "goup, " was neither more or less than the African ant-eater. Although the colonists term it "aard-vark, " which is the Dutch for"ground-hog, " the animal has but little in common with the hog kind. Itcertainly bears some resemblance to a pig about the snout and cheeks;and that, with its bristly hair and burrowing habits, has no doubtgiven rise to the mistaken name. The "ground" part of the title is fromthe fact that it is a burrowing animal, --indeed, one of the best"terriers" in the world. It can make its way under ground, faster thanthe spade can follow it, and faster than any badger. In size, habits, and the form of many parts of its body, it bears a striking resemblanceto its South American cousin the "tamanoir, " which of late years hasbecome so famous as almost to usurp the title of "ant-eater. " But the "aard-vark" is just as good an ant-eater as he, --can "crack" asthick-walled a house, can rake up and devour as many termites as any"ant-bear" in the length and breadth of the Amazon Valley. He has got, moreover, as "tall" a tail as the tamanoir, very nearly as long a snout, a mouth equally small, and a tongue as extensive and extensile. In clawshe can compare with his American cousin any day, and can walk just asawkwardly upon the sides of his fore-paws with "toes turned in. " Why, then, may I ask, do we hear so much talk of the "tamanoir, " whilenot a word is said of the "aard-vark?" Every museum and menagerie isbragging about having a specimen of the former, while not one cares toacknowledge their possession of the latter! Why this enviousdistinction? I say it's all Barnum. It's because the "aard-vark's" aDutchman--a Cape boer--and the boers have been much bullied of late. That's the reason why zoologists and showmen have treated mythick-tailed boy so shabbily. But it shan't be so any longer; I stand upfor the aard-vark; and, although the tamanoir has been specially called_Myrmecophaga_, or ant-eater, I say that the _Orycteropus_ is as good anant-eater as he. He can break through ant-hills quite as big and bigger--some of themtwenty feet high--he can project as long and as gluey a tongue--twentyinches long--he can play it as nimbly and "lick up" as many white ants, as any tamanoir. He can grow as fat too, and weigh as heavy, and, whatis greatly to his credit, he can provide you with a most delicate roastwhen you choose to kill and eat him. It is true he tastes slightly offormid acid, but that is just the flavour that epicures admire. And whenyou come to speak of "hams, "--ah! try his! Cure them well and properly, and eat one, and you will never again talk of "Spanish" or"Westphalian. " Hans knew the taste of those hams--well he did, and so too Swartboy; andit was not against his inclination, but _con amore_, that the latter setabout butchering the "goup. " Swartboy knew how precious a morsel he held between hisfingers, --precious, not only on account of its intrinsic goodness, butfrom its rarity; for although the aard-vark is a common animal in SouthAfrica, and in some districts even numerous, it is not every day thehunter can lay his hands upon one. On the contrary, the creature is mostdifficult to capture; though not to kill, for a blow on the snout willdo that. But just as he is easily killed when you catch him, in the sameproportion is he hard to catch. He is shy and wary, scarce ever comesout of his burrow but at night; and even then skulks so silently along, and watches around him so sharply, that no enemy can approach withouthis knowing it. His eyes are very small, and, like most nocturnalanimals, he sees but indifferently; but in the two senses of smell andhearing he is one of the sharpest. His long erect ears enable him tocatch every sound that may be made in his neighbourhood, however slight. The "aard-vark" is not the only ant-eating quadruped of South Africa. There is another four-footed creature as fond of white ants as he; butthis is an animal of very different appearance. It is a creature withouthair; but instead, its body is covered all over with a regular coat ofscales, each as large as a half-crown piece. These scales slightlyoverlie each other, and can be raised on end at the will of the animal. In form it resembles a large lizard, or a small crocodile, more than anordinary quadruped, but its habits are almost exactly like those of theaard-vark. It burrows, digs open the ant-hills by night, projects a longviscous tongue among the insects, and devours them with avidity. When suddenly overtaken, and out of reach of its underground retreat, it"clews" up like the hedgehog, and some species of the South Americanarmadillos--to which last animal it bears a considerable resemblance onaccount of its scaly coat of mail. This ant-eater is known as the "pangolin, " or "manis, " but there areseveral species of "pangolin" not African. Some are met with in SouthernAsia and the Indian islands. That which is found in South Africa isknown among naturalists as the "long-tailed" or "Tem-minck" pangolin(_Manis Temminckii_). Totty soon produced a roasted "peacock, " or rather a hastily-broiledbustard. But, although, perhaps, not cooked "to a turn, " it wassufficiently well done to satisfy the stomachs for which it wasintended. They were all too hungry to be fastidious, and, without a wordof criticism, they got through their dinner. Hans then commenced relating the history of his day's adventure. CHAPTER XXX. HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. "Well, " began Hans, "you had not been gone more than an hour, when aherd of wildebeests was seen approaching the vley. They came on insingle file; but they had broken rank, and were splashing about in thewater, before I thought of molesting them in any way. Of course I knew what they were, and that they were proper game; but Iwas so interested in watching their ludicrous gambols, that I did notthink about my gun, until the whole herd had nearly finished drinking. Then I remembered that we were living on dry biltongue, and would benothing the worse of a change. I noticed, moreover, that in the herd ofgnoos there were some young ones--which I was able to tell from theirbeing smaller than the rest, and also by their lighter colour. I knewthat the flesh of these is most excellent eating, and therefore made upmy mind we should all dine upon it. I rushed up the ladder for my gun; and then discovered how imprudent Ihad been in not loading it at the time you all went away. I had notthought of any sudden emergency, --but that was very foolish, for howknew I what might happen in a single hour or minute even? I loaded the piece in a grand hurry, for I saw the wildebeests leavingthe water; and, as soon as the bullet was rammed home, I ran down theladder. Before I had reached the bottom, I saw that I had forgotten tobring either powder-horn or pouch. I was in too hot a haste to go backfor them, for I saw the last of the wildebeests moving off, and Ifancied I might be too late. But I had no intention of going any greatdistance in pursuit. A single shot at them was all I wanted, and that inthe gun would do. I hastened after the game, keeping as well as I could under cover. Ifound, after a little time, that I need not have been so cautious. Thewildebeests, instead of being shy--as I had seen them in our oldneighbourhood--appeared to have very little fear of me. This wasespecially the case with the old bulls, who capered and careered aboutwithin an hundred yards' distance, and sometimes permitted me toapproach even nearer. It was plain they had never been hunted. Once or twice I was within range of a pair of old bulls, who seemed toact as a rearguard. But I did not want to shoot one of them. I knewtheir flesh would turn out tough. I wished to get something more tender. I wished to send a bullet into a heifer, or one of the young bulls whosehorns had not yet begun to curve. Of these I saw several in the herd. Tame as the animals were, I could not manage to get near enough to anyof these. The old bulls at the head always led them beyond my range; andthe two that brought up the rear, seemed to drive them forward as Iadvanced upon them. Well, in this way they beguiled me along for more than a mile; and theexcitement of the chase made me quite forget how wrong it was of me togo so far from the camp. But thinking about the meat, and still hopefulof getting a shot, I kept on. At length the hunt led me into ground where there was no longer anybush; but there was good cover, notwithstanding, in the ant-hills, that, like great tents, stood at equal distances from each other scatteredover the plain. These were very large--some of them more than twelvefeet high--and differing from the dome-shaped kind so common everywhere. They were of the shape of large cones, or rounded pyramids, with anumber of smaller cones rising around their bases, and clustering liketurrets along their sides. I knew they were the hills of a species ofwhite ant called by entomologists _Termes bellicosus_. There were other hills, of cylinder shape and rounded tops, that stoodonly about a yard high; looking like rolls of unbleached linen setupright--each with an inverted basin upon its end. These were the homesof a very different species, the _Termes mordax_ of the entomologists;though still another species of _Termes_ build their nests in the sameform. I did not stop then to examine these curious structures. I only speak ofthem now, to give you an idea of the sort of place it was, so that youmay understand what followed. What with the cone-shaped hills and the cylinders, the plain was prettywell covered. One or the other was met with every two hundred yards; andI fancied with these for a shelter I should have but little difficultyin getting within shot of the gnoos. I made a circuit to head them, and crept up behind a large cone-shapedhill, near which the thick of the drove was feeding. When I peepedthrough the turrets, to my chagrin, I saw that the cows and younger oneshad been drawn off beyond reach, and the two old bulls were, as before, capering between me and the herd. I repeated the manoeuvre, and stalked in behind another large cone, closeto which the beasts were feeding. When I raised myself for a shot, I wasagain disappointed. The herd had moved off as before, and the brace ofbulls still kept guard in the rear. I began to feel provoked. The conduct of the bulls annoyed meexceedingly, and I really fancied that they knew it. Their manoeuvreswere of the oddest kind, and some of them appeared to be made for thepurpose of mocking me. At times they would charge up very close--theirheads set in a menacing attitude; and I must confess that with theirblack shaggy fronts, their sharp horns, and glaring red eyes, theylooked anything but pleasant neighbours. I got so provoked with them at last, that I resolved they should botherme no longer. If they would not permit me to shoot one of the others, Iwas determined they themselves should not escape scot-free, but shouldpay dearly for their temerity and insolence. I resolved to put a bulletthrough one of them, at least. Just as I was about raising my gun to fire, I perceived that they hadplaced themselves in attitude for a new fight. This they did by droppingon their knees, and sliding forward until their heads came in contact. They would then spring up, make a sudden bound forward, as if to getuppermost, and trample one another with their hoofs. Failing in this, both would rush past, until they were several yards apart; then wheelround, drop once more to their knees, and advance as before. Hitherto I had looked upon these conflicts as merely playful; and so Ifancy most of them were. But this time the bulls seemed to be inearnest. The loud cracking of their helmet-covered foreheads againsteach other, their fierce snorting and bellowing, and, above all, theirangry manner, convinced me that they had really quarrelled, and wereserious about it. One of them, at length, seemed to be getting knocked over repeatedly. Every time he had partially risen to his feet, and before he could quiterecover them, his antagonist rushed upon him, and butted him back uponhis side. Seeing them so earnestly engaged, I thought I might as well make a sureshot of it, by going a little nearer; so I stepped from behind theant-hill, and walked towards the combatants. Neither took any notice ofmy approach--the one because he had enough to do to guard himself fromthe terrible blows, and the other because he was so occupied indelivering them. When within twenty paces I levelled my gun. I chose the bull whoappeared victor, partly as a punishment for his want of feeling instriking a fallen antagonist, but, perhaps, more because his broadsidewas towards me, and presented a fairer mark. I fired. The smoke hid both for a moment. When it cleared off, I saw the bullthat had been conquered still down in a kneeling attitude, but, to mygreat surprise, the one at which I had aimed was upon his feet, apparently as brisk and sound as ever! I knew I had hit himsomewhere--as I heard the 'thud' of the bullet on his fat body--but itwas plain I had not crippled him. I was not allowed time for reflection as to where I had wounded him. Notan instant indeed, for the moment the smoke cleared away, instead of thebulls clearing off also, I saw the one I had shot at fling up his tail, lower his shaggy front, and charge right towards me! His fierce eyes glanced with a revengeful look, and his roar was enoughto have terrified one more courageous than I. I assure you I was lessfrightened the other day when I encountered the lion. I did not know what to do for some moments. I thought of setting myselfin an attitude of defence, and involuntarily had turned my gun which wasnow empty--intending to use it as a club. But I saw at once, that theslight blow I could deliver would not stop the onset of such a strongfierce animal, and that he would butt me over, and gore me, to acertainty. I turned my eyes to see what hope there lay in flight. Fortunately theyfell upon an ant-hill--the one I had just emerged from. I saw at aglance, that by climbing it I would be out of reach of the fiercewildebeest. Would I have time to get to it before he could overtake me? I ran like a frightened fox. You, Hendrik, can beat me running uponordinary occasions. I don't think you could have got quicker to thatant-hill than I did. I was not a second too soon. As I clutched at the little turrets, anddrew myself up, I could hear the rattle of the wildebeest's hoofs behindme, and I fancied I felt his hot breath upon my heels. But I reached the top cone in safety; and then turned and looked down atmy pursuer. I saw that he could not follow me any farther. Sharp as hishorns were, I saw that I was safe out of their reach. " CHAPTER XXXI. BESIEGED BY THE BULL. "Well, " continued Hans, after a pause, "I began to congratulate myselfon my fortunate escape; for I was convinced that but for the ant-hill Iwould have been trampled and gored to death. The bull was one of thelargest and fiercest of his kind, and a very old one too, as I couldtell by the bases of his thick black horns nearly meeting over hisforehead, as well as by his dark colour. I had plenty of time to notethese things. I felt that I was now safe--that the wildebeest could notget near me; and I sat perched upon the top of the central cone, watching his movements with perfect coolness. It is true he did everything to reach my position. A dozen times hecharged up the hill, and more than once effected a lodgment among thetops of the lower turrets, but the main one was too steep for him. Nowonder! It had tried my own powers to scale it. At times he came so close to me in his desperate efforts, that I couldhave touched his horns with the muzzle of my gun; and I had prepared togive him a blow whenever I could get a good chance. I never saw acreature behave so fiercely. The fact was, that I had hit him with mybullet, --the wound was there along his jaw, and bleeding freely. Thepain of it maddened him; but that was not the only cause of his fury, asI afterwards discovered. Well. After several unsuccessful attempts to scale the cone, he variedhis tactics, and commenced butting the ant-heap as though he would bringit down. He repeatedly backed, and then charged forward upon it withall his might; and, to say the truth, it looked for some time as thoughhe would succeed. Several of the lesser cones were knocked over by his powerful blows; andthe hard tough clay yielded before his sharp horns, used by him asinverted pick-axes. In several places I could see that he had laid openthe chambers of the insects, or rather the ways and galleries that areplaced in the outer crust of the hill. With all this I felt no fear. I was under the belief that he would soonexhaust his rage and go away; and then I could descend without danger. But after watching him a good long spell, I was not a little astonishedto observe that, instead of cooling down, he seemed to grow more furiousthan ever. I had taken out my handkerchief to wipe the perspiration offmy face. It was as hot as an oven where I sat. Not a breath of air wasstirring, and the rays of the sun, glaring right down and thenreflecting up again from the white clay, brought the perspiration out ofme in streams. Every minute I was obliged to rub my eyes clear of itwith the handkerchief. Now, before passing the kerchief over my face, I always shook it open;and each time I did so, I noticed that the rage of the wildebeest seemedto be redoubled! In fact, at such times he would leave off goring theheap, and make a fresh attempt to rush up at me, roaring his loudest ashe charged against the steep wall! I was puzzled at this, as well as astonished. What could there be in mywiping my face to provoke the wildebeest anew? And yet such was clearlythe case. Every time I did so, he appeared to swell with a fresh burstof passion! The explanation came at length. I saw that it was not the wiping off theperspiration that provoked him. It was the shaking out of myhandkerchief. This was, as you know, of a bright scarlet colour. Ithought of this, and then, for the first time, remembered having heardthat anything scarlet has a most powerful effect upon the wildebeest, and excites him to a rage resembling madness. I did not wish to keep up his fury. I crumpled up the handkerchief andburied it in my pocket--preferring to endure the perspiration ratherthan remain there any longer. By hiding the scarlet, I conceived a hopehe would the sooner cool down, and go away. But I had raised a devil in him too fierce to be so easily laid. Heshowed no signs of cooling down. On the contrary, he continued tocharge, butt, and bellow, as vengefully as ever--though the scarlet wasno longer before his eyes. I began to feel really annoyed. I had no idea the gnoo was so implacablein his rage. The bull evidently felt pain from his wound. I couldperceive that he moaned it. He knew well enough it was I who had givenhim this pain. He appeared determined not to let me escape retribution. He showed nosigns of an intention to leave the place; but laboured away with hoofand horns, as if he would demolish the mound. I was growing very tired of my situation. Though not afraid that thebull could reach me, I was troubled by the thought of being so longabsent from our camp. I knew I should have been there. I thought of mylittle sister and brother. Some misfortune might befall them. I was verysad about that, though up to that time I had little or no fears formyself. I was still in hopes the wildebeest would tire out and leave me, and then I could soon run home. I say, up to that time I had no very serious fears for myself--exceptingthe moment or two when the bull was chasing me to the hill; but thatlittle fright was soon over. But now appeared a new object of dread--another enemy, as terrible asthe enraged bull--that almost caused me to spring down upon the horns ofthe latter in my first moments of alarm! I have said that the wildebeest had broken down several of the lesserturrets--the outworks of the ant-hill--and had laid open the hollowspaces within. He had not penetrated to the main dome, but only thewinding galleries and passages that perforate the outer walls. I noticed, that, as soon as these were broken open, a number of ants hadrushed out from each. Indeed, I had observed many of the creaturescrawling outside the hill, when I first approached it, and had wonderedat this--as I knew that they usually keep under ground when going andcoming from their nests. I had observed all this, without taking note ofit at the time--being too intent in my stalk to think of anything else. For the last half-hour I was too busy watching the manoeuvres of thewildebeest bull, to take my gaze off him for a moment. Something in motion directly under me at length caught my eye, and Ilooked down to see what it was. The first glance caused me to jump to myfeet; and, as I have already said, very nearly impelled me to leap downupon the horns of the bull! Swarming all over the hill, already clustering upon my shoes, andcrawling still higher, were the crowds of angry ants. Every hole thatthe bull had made was yielding out its throng of spiteful insects; andall appeared moving towards me! Small as the creatures were, I fancied I saw design in their movements. They seemed all actuated with the same feeling--the same impulse--thatof attacking me. I could not be mistaken in their intent. They moved alltogether, as if guided and led by intelligent beings; and they advancedtowards the spot on which I stood. I saw, too, that they were the soldiers. I knew these from the workers, by their larger heads and long horny mandibles. I knew they could bitefiercely and painfully. The thought filled me with horror. I confess it, I never was sohorrified before. My late encounter with the lion was nothing to comparewith it. My first impression was that I would be destroyed by the termites. I hadheard of such things--I remembered that I had. It was that, no doubt, that frightened me so badly, I had heard of men in their sleep beingattacked by the white ants, and bitten to death. Such memories camecrowding upon me at the moment, until I felt certain, that if I did notsoon escape from that spot, the ants would sting me to death and eat meup!" CHAPTER XXXII. A HELPLESS BEAST. "What was to be done?" continued Hans. "How was I to avoid both enemies?If I leaped down, the wildebeest would kill me to a certainty. He wasstill there, with his fierce eye bent upon me continually. If I remainedwhere I was, I would soon be covered with the swarming hideous insects, and eaten up like an old rag. [Illustration: HANS BESIEGED BY A WILDEBEEST. ] Already I felt their terrible teeth. Those that had first crawled to myfeet I had endeavoured to brush off; but some had got upon my ankles, and were biting me through my thick woollen socks! My clothes would beno protection. I had mounted to the highest part of the cone, and was standing uponits apex. It was so sharp I could scarcely balance myself, but thepainful stings of the insects caused me to dance upon it like amountebank. But what signified those that had already stung my ankle, to the numbersthat were likely soon to pierce me with their venomous darts? Alreadythese were swarming up the last terrace. They would soon cover the apexof the cone upon which I was standing. They would crawl up my limbs inmyriads--they would---- I could reflect no longer on what they would do. I preferred taking mychance with the wildebeest. I would leap down. Perhaps some luckyaccident might aid me. I would battle with the gnoo, using my gun. Perhaps I might succeed in escaping to some other hill. Perhaps---- I was actually on the spring to leap down, when a new thought came intomy mind; and I wondered I had been so silly as not to think of itbefore. What was to hinder me from keeping off the termites? They had nowings--the soldiers have none--nor the workers neither, for that matter. They could not fly upon me. They could only crawl up the cone. With myjacket I could brush them back. Certainly I could--why did I not thinkof it before? I was not long in taking off my jacket. I laid aside my useless gun, dropping it upon one of the lower terraces. I caught the jacket by thecollar; and, using it as a duster, I cleared the sides of the cone in afew moments, having sent thousands of the termites tumbling headlongbelow. Pshaw! how simply the thing was done! why had I not done it before? Itcost scarcely an effort to brush the myriads away, and a slight effortwould keep them off as long as I pleased. The only annoyance I felt now was from the few that had got under mytrousers, and that still continued to bite me; but these I would get ridof in time. Well--I remained on the apex, now bending down to beat back the soldiersthat still swarmed upward, and then occupying myself in trying to getrid of the few that crawled upon me. I felt no longer any uneasiness onthe score of the insects--though I was not a bit better off as regardedthe bull, who still kept guard below. I fancied, however, that he nowshowed symptoms of weariness, and would soon raise the siege; and thisprospect made me feel more cheerful. A sudden change came over me. A new thrill of terror awaited me. While jumping about upon the top of the cone, my footing suddenly gaveway--the baked clay broke with a dead crash, and I sank through theroof. My feet shot down into the hollow dome--till I thought I must havecrushed the great queen in her chamber--and I stood buried to the neck. I was surprised, and a little terrified, not by the shock I hadexperienced in the sudden descent. That was natural enough, and a fewmoments would have restored my equanimity; but it was something elsethat frightened me. It was something that moved under my feet as they'touched bottom, '--something that moved and heaved under them, and thenpassed quickly away, letting me still farther down! What could it be? Was it the great swarm of living ants that I pressedupon? I did not think it was. It did not feel like them. It seemed tobe something bulky and strong, for it held up my whole weight for amoment or two, before it slipped from under me. Whatever it was, it frightened me very considerably; and I did not leavemy feet in its company for five seconds time. No: the hottest furnacewould scarce have scorched them during the time they remained inside thedark dome. In five seconds they were on the walls again--on the brokenedges, where I had mounted up, and where I now stood quite speechlesswith surprise! What next? I could keep the ants off no longer. I gazed down the darkcavity; they were swarming up that way in thick crowds. I could brushthem down no more. My eyes at this moment chanced to wander to the bull. He was standing atthree or four paces distance from the base of the hill. He was standingsideways with his head turned to it, and regarding it with a wild look. His attitude was entirely changed, and so, I thought, was the expressionof his eye. He looked as if he had just run off to his new position, andwas ready to make a second start. He looked as if something had alsoterrified him! Something evidently had; for, in another moment, he uttered a sharprout, galloped several paces farther out, wheeled again, halted, andstood gazing as before! What could it mean? Was it the breaking through of the roof and mysudden descent that had frightened him? At first I thought so, but I observed that he did not look upward to thetop. His gaze seemed bent on some object near the base of thehill--though from where I stood I could see nothing there to frightenhim. I had not time to reflect what it could be, before the bull uttered afresh snort; and, raising its tail high into the air, struck off at fullgallop over the plain! Rejoiced at seeing this, I thought no more of what had relieved me ofhis company. It must have been my curious fall, I concluded; but nomatter now that the brute was gone. So seizing hold of my gun, Iprepared to descend from the elevated position of which I was thoroughlytired. Just as I had got half down the side, I chanced to look below; and therewas the object that terrified the old bull. No wonder. It might haveterrified anything, --the odd-looking creature that it was. From out ahole in the clay wall protruded a long naked cylindrical snout, mountedby a pair of ears nearly as long as itself, that stood erect like thehorns of a steinbuck, and gave to the animal that bore them a wild andvicious look. It would have badly frightened me, had I not known what itwas; but I recognised it at once as one of the most inoffensivecreatures in the world--the 'aard-vark. ' His appearance accounted for the retreat of the bull, and also explainedwhy the ants had been crawling about on my first reaching their hill. Without saying a word, or making the slightest noise, I clubbed my gun;and, bending downward, struck the protruded snout a blow with the butt. It was a most wicked blow; and, considering the service the creature hadjust done me in frightening off the wildebeest, a most ungratefulreturn. But I was not master of my feelings at the moment. I did notreflect--only that I liked aard-vark flesh--and the blow was given. Poor fellow! It did the job for him. With scarce a kick he dropped deadin the opening he had scraped with his own claws. Well--my day's adventures were not yet ended. They seemed as though theywere never to end. I had got the aard-vark over my shoulders, and wasabout heading homeward, when, to my astonishment, I observed that thebull-gnoo--not the one that had besieged me, but his lateantagonist--was still out upon the plain where I had last seen him! Iobserved, moreover, that he was still in a sort of half-lying, half-kneeling attitude, with his head close to the ground! His odd movements seemed stranger than anything else. I fancied he hadbeen badly hurt by the other, and was not able to get away. At first I was cautious about going near him--remembering my late narrowescape--and I thought of giving him a wide berth, and leaving him alone. Even though wounded, he might be strong enough to charge upon me; and myempty gun, as I had already proved, would be but a poor weapon withwhich to defend myself. I hesitated about going near him; but curiosity grew strong within me, as I watched his queer manoeuvres; until at length I walked up within adozen yards of where he was kneeling. Fancy my surprise on discovering the cause of his oblique movements. Nohurt had he received of any kind--not even a scratch; but for all that, he was as completely crippled as if he had lost his best pair of legs. In a very singular manner was he rendered thus helpless. In his strugglewith the other bull, one of his fore-legs had, somehow or other, gotpassed over his horn; and there it stuck--not only depriving him of theuse of the limb itself, but holding his head so close to the ground thathe was quite unable to stir from the spot! At first I designed helping him out of his difficulty, and letting himgo. On second thoughts, I remembered the story of the husband-man andthe frozen snake, which quite changed my intention. I next thought of killing him for venison; but having no bullet, I didnot like to beat him to death with my gun. Besides the aard-vark was myload to camp, and I knew that the jackals would eat the bull up beforewe could go back for him. I thought it probable he would be safer leftas he was--as these ravenous brutes, seeing him alive, might not soreadily approach him. So I left him with his "head under his arm, " in hopes that we may findhim there to-morrow. " So ended Hans's narrative of his day's adventures. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ELEPHANT'S SLEEPING-ROOM. The field-cornet was far from satisfied with his day's work. His firstattempt at elephant-hunting had proved a failure. Might it not be alwaysso? Notwithstanding the interest with which he listened to Hans's narrativeof the day's adventures, he felt uneasy in his mind when he reflectedupon his own. The elephant had escaped so easily. Their bullets seemed to have injuredhim not the least. They had only served to render him furious, anddangerous. Though both had hit him in places where their wounds shouldhave been mortal, no such effect was produced. The elephant seemed to gooff as unscathed, as if they had fired only boiled peas at him! Would it be always so? True, they had given him but two shots. Two, if well directed, may bringdown a cow-elephant and sometimes a bull, but oftener it requires tentimes two before a strong old bull can be made to "bite the dust. " But would any elephant wait until they could load and fire a sufficientnumber of shots? That was an undecided point with our tyro elephant-hunters. If not, thenthey would be helpless indeed. It would be a tedious business spooringthe game afoot, after it had once been fired upon. In such cases theelephant usually travels many miles before halting again; and onlymounted men can with any facility overtake him. How Von Bloom sighed when he thought of his poor horses! Now more thanever did he feel the want of them--now more than ever did he regrettheir loss. But he had heard that the elephant does not always make off whenattacked. The old bull had shown no intention of retreating, afterreceiving their shots. It was the odd conduct of Swartboy that had puthim to flight. But for that, he would no doubt have kept the ground, until they had given him another volley, and perhaps his death-wound. The field-cornet drew consolation from this last reflection. Perhapstheir next encounter would have a different ending. Perhaps a pair oftusks would reward them. The hope of such a result, as well as the anxiety about it, determinedVon Bloom to lose no time in making a fresh trial. Next morning, therefore, before the sun was up, the hunters were once more upon thetrail of their giant game. One precaution they had taken, which they had not thought of before. Allof them had heard that an ordinary leaden bullet will not penetrate thetough thick skin of the great "pachyderm. " Perhaps this had been thecause of their failure on the preceding day. If so they had providedagainst the recurrence of failure from such a cause. They had moulded anew set of balls of harder material, --solder it should have been, butthey had none. They chanced, however, to be in possession of what servedthe purpose equally well--the old "plate" that had often graced thefield-cornet's table in his better byegone days of the Graaf Reinet. This consisted of candlesticks, and snuffer-trays, and dish-covers, andcruet-stands, and a variety of articles of the real "Dutch metal. " Some of these were condemned to the alembic of the melting-pan; and, mixed with the common lead, produced a set of balls hard enough for thehide of the rhinoceros itself--so that this day the hunters had no fearsof failure upon the score of soft bullets. They went in the same direction as upon the preceding day, towards theforest or "bush, " as they termed it. They had not proceeded a mile when they came upon the spoor of elephantsnearly fresh. It passed through the very thickest of the thornyjungle--where no creature but an elephant, a rhinoceros, or a man withan axe, could have made way. A family must have passed, consisting of amale, a female or two, and several young ones of different ages. Theyhad marched in single file, as elephants usually do; and had made aregular lane several feet wide, which was quite clear of bushes, andtrampled by their immense footsteps. The old bull, Swartboy said, hadgone in advance, and had cleared the way of all obstructions, by meansof his trunk and tusks. This had evidently been the case, for thehunters observed huge branches broken off, or still hanging and turnedto one side, out of the way--just as if the hand of man had done it. Swartboy further affirmed, that such elephant-roads usually led towater; and by the very easiest and shortest routes--as if they had beenplanned and laid open by the skill of an engineer--showing the rareinstinct or sagacity of these animals. The hunters, therefore, expected soon to arrive at some watering-place;but it was equally probable the spoor might be leading them from thewater. They had not followed it more than a quarter of a mile, when they cameupon another road of a similar kind, that crossed the one they werespooring upon. This had also been made by a number of elephants--afamily most likely--and the tracks upon it were as recent as those theyhad been following. They hesitated for a moment which to take; but at length concluded uponkeeping straight on; and so they moved forward as before. To their great disappointment the trail at last led out into more openground, where the elephants had scattered about; and after following thetracks of one, and then another without success, they got bewildered, and lost the spoor altogether. While casting about to find it in a place where the bush was thin andstraggling, Swartboy suddenly ran off to one side, calling to the othersto follow him. Von Bloom and Hendrik went after to see what the Bushmanwas about. They thought he had seen an elephant, and both, considerablyexcited, had already pulled the covers off their guns. There was no elephant, however. When they came up with Swartboy, he wasstanding under a tree, and pointing to the ground at its bottom. The hunters looked down. They saw that the ground upon one side of thetree was trampled, as though horses or some other animals had been tiedthere for a long time, and had worn off the turf, and worked it intodust with their hoofs. The bark of the tree--a full-topped shadyacacia--for some distance up was worn smooth upon one side, just asthough cattle had used it for a rubbing-post. "What has done it?" asked the field-cornet and Hendrik in a breath. "Da olifant's slapen-boom" (the elephant's sleeping-tree), repliedSwartboy. No further explanation was necessary. The hunters remembered what theyhad been told about a curious habit which the elephant has--of leaningagainst a tree while asleep. This, then, was one of the sleeping-treesof these animals. But of what use to them, farther than to gratify a little curiosity? Theelephant was not there. "Da ole karl come again, " said Swartboy. "Ha! you think so, Swart?" inquired Von Bloom. "Ya, baas, lookee da! spoor fresh--da groot olifant hab slap hereyesterday. " "What then? you think we should lie in wait, and shoot him when hereturns. " "No, baas, better dan shoot, we make him bed--den wait see um lie down. " Swartboy grinned a laugh as he gave this piece of advice. "Make his bed! what do you mean?" inquired his master. "I tell you, baas, we get da oliphant sure, if you leave da job to oleSwart. I gib you de plan for take him, no waste powder, no wastebullet. " The Bushman proceeded to communicate his plan, to which hismaster--remembering their failure of yesterday--readily gave hisconsent. Fortunately they had all the implements that would be necessary forcarrying it out, --a sharp axe, a strong rope or "rheim" of raw-hide, andtheir knives--and they set about the business without loss of time. CHAPTER XXXIV. MAKING THE ELEPHANT'S BED. To the hunters time was a consideration. If the elephant should returnthat day it would be just before the hottest hours of noon. They had, therefore, scarce an hour left to prepare for him--to "make his bed, " asSwartboy had jocosely termed it. So they went to work with alacrity, theBushman acting as director-general, while the other two received theirorders from him with the utmost obedience. The first work which Swartboy assigned to them was to cut and preparethree stakes of hard wood. They were to be each about three feet long, as thick as a man's arm, and pointed at one end. These were soon procured. The iron-wood which grew in abundance in theneighbourhood, furnished the very material; and after three pieces ofsufficient length had been cut down with the axe, they were reduced tothe proper size, and pointed by the knives of the hunters. Meanwhile Swartboy had not been idle. First, with his knife he had cut alarge section of bark from the elephant's tree, upon the side againstwhich the animal had been in the habit of leaning, and about three feetfrom the ground. Then with the axe he made a deep notch, where the barkhad been removed--in fact, such a notch as would have caused the tree tofall had it been left to itself. But it was not, for before advancing sofar in his work, Swartboy had taken measures to prevent that. He hadstayed the tree by fastening the rheim to its upper branches on theopposite side, and then carrying the rope to the limbs of another treethat stood out in that direction. Thus adjusted, the elephant's tree was only kept from falling by therheim-stay; and a slight push, in the direction of the latter, wouldhave thrown it over. Swartboy now replaced the section of bark, which he had preserved; andafter carefully collecting the chips, no one, without close examination, could have told that the tree had ever felt the edge of an axe. Another operation yet remained to be performed--that was the plantingof the stakes, already prepared by Von Bloom and Hendrik. To set thesefirmly, deep holes had to be made. But Swartboy was just the man to makea hole; and in less than ten minutes he had sunk three, each over a footdeep, and not a half-inch wider than the thickness of the stakes! You may be curious to know how he accomplished this. You would have duga hole with a spade, and necessarily as wide as the spade itself. ButSwartboy had no spade, and would not have used it if there had beenone--since it would have made the holes too large for his purpose. Swartboy sunk his holes by "crowing"--which process he performed bymeans of a small pointed stick. With this he first loosened the earth ina circle of the proper size. He then took out the detached mould, flungit away, and used the point of the "crowing stick" as before. Anotherclearing out of mould, another application of the stick; and so on, tillthe narrow hole was deemed of sufficient depth. That was how Swartboy"crowed" the holes. They were sunk in a kind of triangle near the bottom of the tree, but onthe side opposite to that where the elephant would stand, should heoccupy his old ground. In each hole Swartboy now set a stake, thick end down and point upwards;some small pebbles, and a little mould worked in at the sides, wedgedthem as firmly as if they had grown there. The stakes were now daubed over with soft earth, to conceal the whitecolour of the wood; the remaining chips were picked up, and all tracesof the work completely obliterated. This done the hunters withdrew fromthe spot. They did not go far; but choosing a large bushy tree to leeward, allthree climbed up into it, and sat concealed among its branches. The field-cornet held his long "roer" in readiness, and so did Hendrikhis rifle. In case the ingenious trap of Swartboy should fail, theyintended to use their guns, but not otherwise. It was now quite noon, and the day had turned out one of the hottest. But for the shade afforded by the leaves, they would have felt it verydistressing. Swartboy prognosticated favourably from this. The greatheat would be more likely than anything else to send the elephant to hisfavourite sleeping-place under the cool shady cover of the cameel-doorn. It was now quite noon. He could not be long in coming, thought they. Sure enough he came, and soon, too. They had not been twenty minutes on their perch, when they heard astrange, rumbling noise, which they knew proceeded from the stomach ofan elephant. The next moment they saw one emerge from the jungle, andwalk, with sweeping step, straight up to the tree. He seemed to have nosuspicion of any danger; but placed himself at once alongside the trunkof the acacia--in the very position and on the side Swartboy had said hewould take. From his spoor the Bushman knew he had been in the habit ofso standing. His head was turned from the hunters, but not so much as to prevent themfrom seeing a pair of splendid tusks, --six feet long at the least. While gazing in admiration at these rich trophies, they saw the animalpoint his proboscis upward, and discharge a vast shower of water intothe leaves, which afterwards fell dripping in bright globules over hisbody! Swartboy said that he drew the water from his stomach. Althoughcloset-naturalists deny this, it must have been so; for shortly after, he repeated the act again and again--the quantity of water at eachdischarge being as great as before. It was plain that his trunk, largeas it was, could not have contained it all. He seemed to enjoy this "shower-bath;" and the hunters did not wonder atit, for they themselves, suffering at the time from heat and thirst, would have relished something of a similar kind. As the crystal dropsfell back from the acacia leaves, the huge animal was heard to utter alow grunt expressive of gratification. The hunters hoped that this wasthe prelude to his sleep, and watched him with intense earnestness. It proved to be so. As they sat gazing, they noticed that his head sunk a little, his earsceased their flapping, his tail hung motionless, and his trunk, nowtwined around his tusks, remained at rest. They gaze intently. Now they see his body droop a little to oneside--now it touches the tree--there is heard a loud crack, followed bya confused crashing of branches--and the huge dark body of the elephantsinks upon its side. At the same instant a terrible scream drowns all other sounds, causingthe forest to echo, and the very leaves to quake. Then follows aconfused roaring, mingled with the noise of cracking branches, and thestruggles of the mighty brute where he lies kicking his giant limbsalong the earth, in the agonies of death! The hunters remain in the tree. They see that the elephant is down--thathe is impaled. There will be no need for their puny weapons. Their gamehas already received the death-wound. The struggle is of short duration. The painful breathing that precedesdeath is heard issuing from the long proboscis; and then follows a deepominous silence. The hunters leap down, and approach the prostrate body. They see that itstill lies upon the terrible _chevaux de frisé_, where it had fallen. The stakes have done their work most effectively. The elephant breathesno more. He is dead! It was the work of an hour to cut out those splendid tusks. But ourhunters thought nothing of that; and they were only the more pleased tofind each of them a heavy load--as much as a man could carry! Von Bloom shouldered one, Swartboy the other, while Hendrik loadedhimself with the guns and implements; and all three, leaving the carcassof the dead elephant behind them, returned triumphantly to camp. CHAPTER XXXV. THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. Notwithstanding the success of the day's hunt, the mind of Von Bloom wasnot at rest. They had "bagged" their game, it was true, but in whatmanner? Their success was a mere accident, and gave them no earnest ofwhat might be expected in the future. They might go long before findinganother "sleeping-tree" of the elephants, and repeating their easycapture. Such were the not very pleasant reflections of the field-cornet, on theevening after returning from their successful hunt. But still less pleasant were they, two weeks later, at the retrospect ofmany an unsuccessful chase from which they had returned--when, aftertwelve days spent in "jaging" the elephant, they had added only a singlepair of tusks to the collection, and these the tusks of a cow elephant, scarce two feet in length, and of little value! The reflection was not the less painful, that nearly every day they hadfallen in with elephants, and had obtained a shot or two at theseanimals. That did not mend the matter a bit. On the contrary, it taughtthe hunter how easily they could run away from him, as they invariablydid. It taught him how small his chances were of capturing such game, solong as he could only follow it afoot. The hunter on foot stands but a poor chance with the elephant. Stalkingin upon one is easy enough, and perhaps obtaining a single shot; butwhen the animal trots off through the thick jungle, it is tedious workfollowing him. He may go miles before halting, and even if the huntershould overtake him, it may be only to deliver a second shot, and seethe game once more disappear into the bushes--perhaps to be spoored nofarther. Now the mounted hunter has this advantage. His horse can overtake theelephant; and it is a peculiarity of this animal, that the moment hefinds that his enemy, whatever it be, can do that thing, he disdains torun any farther, but at once stands to bay; and the hunter may thendeliver as many shots as he pleases. Herein lies the great advantage of the hunter on horseback. Anotheradvantage is the security the horse affords, enabling his rider to avoidthe charges of the angry elephant. No wonder Von Bloom sighed for a horse. No wonder he felt grieved at thewant of this noble companion, that would have aided him so much in thechase. He grieved all the more, now that he had become acquainted with thedistrict, and had found it so full of elephants. Troops of an hundredhad been seen; and these far from being shy, or disposed to make offafter a shot or two. Perhaps they had never heard the report of a gunbefore that of his own long roer pealed in their huge ears. With a horse the field-cornet believed he could have killed many, andobtained much valuable ivory. Without one, his chances of carrying outhis design were poor indeed. His hopes were likely to end indisappointment. He felt this keenly. The bright prospects he had so ardently indulgedin, became clouded over; and fears for the future once more harassedhim. He would only waste his time in this wilderness. His children wouldlive without books, without education, without society. Were he to besuddenly called away, what would become of them? His pretty Gertrudewould be no better off than a little savage--his sons would become notin sport, as he was wont to call them, but in reality a trio of"Bush-boys. " Once more these thoughts filled the heart of the father with pain. Oh!what would he not have given at that moment for a pair of horses, of anysort whatever? The field-cornet, while making these reflections, was seated in thegreat nwana-tree, upon the platform, that had been built on the sidetowards the lake, and from which a full view could be obtained of thewater. From this point a fine view could also be obtained of the countrywhich lay to the eastward of the lake. At some distance off it waswooded, but near the vley a grassy plain lay spread before the eye likea green meadow. The eyes of the hunter were turned outward on this plain, and just thenhis glance fell upon a troop of animals crossing the open ground, andadvancing towards the vley. They were large animals--nearly of the shape and size of smallhorses--and travelling in single file; as they were, the troop at adistance presented something of the appearance of a "cafila, " orcaravan. There were in all about fifty individuals in the line; and theymarched along with a steady sober pace, as if under the guidance anddirection of some wise leader. How very different from the capriciousand eccentric movements of the gnoos! Individually they bore some resemblance to these last-named animals. Inthe shape of their bodies and tails, in their general ground colour, andin the "brindled" or tiger-like stripes that could be perceived upontheir cheeks, neck, and shoulders. These stripes were exactly of thesame form as those upon a zebra; but far less distinct, and notextending to the body or limbs, as is the case with the true zebra. Ingeneral colour, and in some other respects, the animals reminded one ofthe ass; but their heads, necks, and the upper part of their bodies, were of darker hue, slightly tinged with reddish brown. In fact, thenew-comers had points of resemblance to all four--horse, ass, gnoo, andzebra--and yet they were distinct from any. To the zebra they bore thegreatest resemblance--for they were in reality a species of zebra--theywere quaggas. Modern naturalists have divided the _Equidĉ_, or horse family, into twogenera--the horse and the ass--the principal points of distinctionbeing, that animals of the horse kind have long flowing manes, fulltails, and warty callosities on both hind and fore limbs; while asses, on the contrary, have short, meagre, and upright manes, tails slenderand furnished only with long hairs at the extremity, and their hindlimbs wanting the callosities. These, however, are found on thefore-legs as upon horses. Although there are many varieties of the horse genus--scores of them, widely differing from each other--they can all be easily recognised bythese characteristic marks, from the "Suffolk Punch, " the great Londondrayhorse, down to his diminutive little cousin the "Shetland Pony. " The varieties of the ass are nearly as numerous, though this fact is notgenerally known. First, we have the common ass, the type of the genus; and of this thereare many breeds in different countries, some nearly as elegant and ashighly prized as horses. Next there is the "onagra, " "koulan, " or "wildass, " supposed to be the origin of the common kind. This is a native ofAsia, though it is also found in the north-eastern parts of Africa. There is also the "dziggetai, " or "great wild ass, " of Central andSouthern Asia, and another smaller species the "ghur" found in Persia. Again, there is the "kiang" met with in Ladakh, and the "yo-totze, " aninhabitant of Chinese Tartary. All these are Asiatic species, found in a wild state, and differing fromone another in colour, size, form, and even in habits. Many of them areof elegant form, and swift as the swiftest horses. In this little book we cannot afford room for a description of each, butmust confine our remarks to what is more properly our subject--the wildasses of Africa. Of these there are six or seven kinds--perhaps more. First, there is the "wild ass, " which, as already stated, extends fromAsia into the north-eastern parts of Africa, contiguous to the formercontinent. Next there is the "koomrah, " of which very little is known, except thatit inhabits the forests of Northern Africa, and is solitary in itshabits, unlike most of the other species. The koomrah has been describedas a "wild horse, " but, most probably, it belongs to the genus _asinus_. Now there are four other species of "wild asses" in Africa--wild horsessome call them--and a fifth reported by travellers, but as yetundetermined. These species bear such a resemblance to one another intheir form, the peculiar markings of their bodies, size, and generalhabits, that they may be classed together under the title of the zebrafamily. First, there is the true zebra, perhaps the most beautiful ofall quadrupeds, and of which no description need be given. Second, the"dauw, " or "Burchell's zebra, " as it is more frequently called. Third, the "congo dauw, " closely resembling the dauw. Fourth, the "quagga"; andfifth, the undetermined species known as the "white zebra, " so calledfrom its pale yellow, or Isabella colour. These five species evidently have a close affinity with each other--allof them being more or less marked with the peculiar transversal bands or"stripes, " which are the well-known characteristics of the zebra. Eventhe quagga is so banded upon the head and upper parts of its body. The zebra proper is "striped" from the tip of the nose to its veryhoofs, and the bands are of a uniform black, while the ground colour isnearly white, or white tinged with a pale yellow. The "dauws, " on theother hand, are not banded upon the legs; the rays are not so dark orwell defined, and the ground colour is not so pure or clean-looking. Forthe rest, all these three species are much alike; and it is more thanprobable that either "Burchell's" or the "congo dauw" was the species towhich the name of "zebra" was first applied; for that which is nowcalled the "true zebra" inhabits those parts of Africa where it was lesslikely to have been the first observed of the genus. At all events, the"congo dauw" is the "hippotigris, " or tiger-horse, of the Romans; andthis we infer from its inhabiting a more northerly part of Africa thanthe others, all of which belong to the southern half of that continent. The habitat of the zebra is said to extend as far north as Abyssinia;but, perhaps, the "congo dauw, " which certainly inhabits Abyssinia, hasbeen mistaken for the true zebra. Of the four species in South Africa, the zebra is a mountain animal, anddwells among the cliffs, while the dauw and quagga rove over the plainsand wild karoo deserts. In similar situations to these has the "whitezebra" been observed--though only by the traveller Le Vaillant--andhence the doubt about its existence as a distinct species. None of the kinds associate together, though each herds with otheranimals! The quagga keeps company with the gnoo, the "dauw" with the"brindled gnoo, " while the tall ostrich stalks in the midst of the herdsof both! There is much difference in the nature and disposition of the differentspecies. The mountain zebra is very shy and wild; the dauw is almostuntameable; while the quagga is of a timid docile nature, and may betrained to harness with as much facility as a horse. The reason why this has not been done, is simply because the farmers ofSouth Africa have horses in plenty, and do not stand in need of thequagga, either for saddle or harness. But though Von Bloom the farmer had never thought of "breaking in" aquagga, Von Bloom the hunter now did. CHAPTER XXXVI. PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. Up to this time the field-cornet had scarce deigned to notice thequaggas. He knew what they were, and had often seen a drove ofthem--perhaps the same one--approach the vley and drink. Neither he norany of his people had molested them, though they might have killed many. They knew that the yellow oily flesh of these animals was not fit forfood, and is only eaten by the hungry natives--that their hides, although sometimes used for grain-sacks and other common purposes, areof very little value. For these reasons, they had suffered them to comeand go quietly. They did not wish to waste powder and lead upon them;neither did they desire wantonly to destroy such harmless creatures. Every evening, therefore, the quaggas had drunk at the vley and gone offagain, without exciting the slightest interest. Not so upon this occasion. A grand design now occupied the mind of VonBloom. The troop of quaggas became suddenly invested with as muchinterest as if it had been a herd of elephants; and the field-cornet hadstarted to his feet, and stood gazing upon them--his eyes sparkling withpleasure and admiration. He admired their prettily-striped heads, their plump well-turned bodies, their light elegant limbs; in short, he admired everything about them, size, colour, and proportions. Never before had quaggas appeared sobeautiful in the eyes of the vee-boer. But why this new-born admiration for the despised quaggas?--for despisedthey are by the Cape farmer, who shoots them only to feed his Hottentotservants. Why had they so suddenly become such favourites with thefield-cornet? That you will understand by knowing the reflections thatwere just then passing through his mind. They were as follows:-- Might not a number of these animals be caught and broken in?--Why not?Might they not be trained to the saddle?--Why not? Might they not servehim for hunting the elephant just as well as horses?--Why not? Von Bloom asked these three questions of himself. Half a minute servedto answer them all in the affirmative. There was neither impossibilitynor improbability in any of the three propositions. It was clear thatthe thing could be done, and without difficulty. A new hope sprang up in the heart of the field-cornet. Once more hiscountenance became radiant with joy. He communicated his thoughts both to the Bushman and "Bush-boys"--all ofwhom highly approved of the idea, and only wondered that none of themhad thought of it before. And now the question arose as to how the quaggas were to be captured. This was the first point to be settled; and the four--Von Bloom himself, Hans, Hendrik, and Swartboy, --sat deliberately down to concoct some planof effecting this object. Of course they could do nothing just then, and the drove that had cometo drink was allowed to depart peacefully. The hunters knew they wouldreturn on the morrow about the same hour; and it was towards theirreturn that the thoughts of all were bent. Hendrik advised "creasing, " which means sending a bullet through theupper part of the neck near the withers, and by this means a quagga canbe knocked over and captured. The shot, if properly directed, does notkill the animal. It soon recovers, and may be easily "broken, " thoughits spirit is generally broken at the same time. It is never "itselfagain. " Hendrik understood the mode of "creasing. " He had seen itpractised by the boer-hunters. He knew the spot where the bullet shouldhit. He believed he could do it easily enough. Hans considered the "creasing" too cruel a mode. They might kill manyquaggas before obtaining one that was hit in the proper place. Besidesthere would be a waste of powder and bullets--a thing to be considered. Why could they not snare the animals? He had heard of nooses being setfor animals as large as the quaggas, and of many being caught in thatmanner. Hendrik did not think the idea of snaring a good one. They might get onein that way--the foremost of the drove; but all the others, seeing theleader caught, would gallop off and return no more to the vley; andwhere would they set their snare for a second? It might be a long timebefore they should find another watering-place of these animals; whereasthey might stalk and crease them upon the plains at any time. Swartboy now put in his plan. It was the pit-fall. That was the way bywhich Bushmen most generally caught large animals, and Swartboyperfectly understood how to construct a pit for quaggas. Hendrik saw objections to this, very similar to those he had urgedagainst the snare. The foremost of the quaggas might be caught, but theothers would not be fools enough to walk into the pit--after theirleader had fallen in and laid the trap open. They, of course, wouldgallop off, and never come back that way again. If it could be done at night, Hendrik admitted, the thing might bedifferent. In the darkness several might rush in before catching thealarm. But no--the quaggas had always come to drink in day-time--oneonly could be trapped, and then the others alarmed would keep away. There would have been reason in what Hendrik said, but for a remarkablefact which the field-cornet himself had observed when the quaggas cameto the lake to drink. It was that the animals had invariably entered thewater at one point, and gone out at another. It was of course a mereaccident that they did so, and owing to the nature of the ground; butsuch was the case, and Von Bloom had observed it on several occasions. They were accustomed to enter by the gorge, already described; and, after drinking, wade along the shallow edge for some yards, and thenpass out by another break in the bank. The knowledge of this fact was of the utmost importance, and all sawthat at once. A pit-fall dug upon the path by which the animals enteredthe lake, would no doubt operate as Hendrik said--one might be caught, and all the rest frightened off. But a similar trap placed upon thetrail that led outward, would bring about a very different result. Oncethe quaggas had finished drinking, and just at the moment they wereheading out of the water, the hunters could show themselves upon theopposite side, set the troop in quick motion, and gallop them into thetrap. By this means not only one, but a whole pit-full might be capturedat once! All this appeared so feasible that not another suggestion wasoffered--the plan of the pit-fall was at once, and unanimously adopted. It remained only to dig the pit, cover it properly, and then wait theresult. During all the time their capture was being planned, the herd of quaggashad remained in sight, disporting themselves upon the open plain. It wasa tantalizing sight to Hendrik, who would have liked much to have shownhis marksman skill by "creasing" one. But the young hunter saw that itwould be imprudent to fire at them there, as it would prevent them fromreturning to the vley; so he restrained himself, and along with theothers remained watching the quaggas--all regarding them with a degreeof interest which they had never before felt in looking at a drove ofthese animals. The quaggas saw nothing of them, although quite near to the greatnwana-tree. They--the hunters--were up among the branches, where theanimals did not think of looking, and there was nothing around thebottom of the tree to cause them alarm. The wagon-wheels had long agobeen disposed of in the bush, partly to shelter them from the sun, andpartly because game animals frequently came within shot of the tree, andwere thus obtained without any trouble. There were scarce any tracesupon the ground that would have betrayed the existence of a "camp" inthe tree; and a person might have passed very near without noticing theodd aërial dwelling of the hunter family. All this was design upon the part of the field-cornet. As yet he knewlittle of the country around. He did not know but that it might containworse enemies than either hyenas or lions. While they sat watching the manoeuvres of the quaggas, a movement wasmade by one of these creatures more singular than any that had yet beenwitnessed. The animal in question was browsing quietly along, and at lengthapproached a small clump of bushes that stood out in the open ground. When close to the copse it was observed to make a sudden spring forward;and almost at the same instant, a shaggy creature leaped out of thebushes, and ran off. This last was no other than the ugly "striped"hyena. Instead of turning upon the quagga and showing fight, as onemight have supposed so strong and fierce a brute would have done, thehyena uttered a howl of alarm, and ran off as fast as its legs wouldcarry it. They did not carry it far. It was evidently making for a larger tractof bush that grew near; but before it had got half-way across the openground, the quagga came up behind, and uttering his shrill "couaag, "reared forward, and dropped with his fore-hoofs upon the hyena's back. At the same instant the neck of the carnivorous animal was clutched bythe teeth of the ruminant and held as fast, as if grasped by a vice. [Illustration: THE QUAGGA AND THE HYENA. ] All looked to see the hyena free itself and run off again. They lookedin vain. It never ran another yard. It never came alive out of theclutch of those terrible teeth. The quagga still held his struggling victim with firm hold--trampling itwith his hoofs, and shaking it in his strong jaws, until in a fewminutes the screams of the hyena ceased, and his mangled carcass laymotionless upon the plain! One would think that this incident might have been enough to warn ourhunters to be cautious in their dealings with the quagga. Such a sharpbiter would be no pleasant horse to "bit and bridle. " But all knew the antipathy that exists between the wild horse and thehyena; and that the quagga, though roused to fury at the sight of one ofthese animals, is very different in its behaviour towards man. Sostrong, in fact, is this antipathy, and so complete is the mastery ofthe ruminant over the carnivorous animal, that the frontier farmersoften take advantage of these peculiar facts, and keep the hyenas fromtheir cattle by bringing up with the herd a number of quaggas, who actas its guards and protectors! CHAPTER XXXVII. THE PIT-TRAP. While they were watching the movements of the quaggas, Von Bloom rosesuddenly to his feet. All turned their eyes upon him as he did so. Theysaw by his manner that he was about to propose something. What could itbe? The thought had just occurred to him that they should at once set aboutdigging the pit. It was near sunset--wanting only half-an-hour of it; and one wouldsuppose he would have done better to leave the work till next morning. But no. There was a good reason why they should set about it at once;and that was, that they might not be able to complete it in time if theydid not do part of it that night. It would be no slight undertaking to dig a pit of proper size, for theywould require one that would at least hold half-a-dozen quaggas at atime. Then there was the carrying away the earth that should come out ofit, the cutting the poles and branches to cover it, and the placing ofthese in a proper manner. To do all these things would take up a great deal of time; and they mustbe all done against the return of the quaggas, else the whole schemewould be a failure. Should the animals arrive upon the ground before thepit was covered in and all traces of the work removed, they would makeoff without entering the water, and perhaps never visit that vley again. Such were the conjectures of the field-cornet. Hans, Hendrik, andSwartboy, acknowledged their justice. All saw the necessity of going towork at once, and to work they all went. Fortunately among the "implements, " were two good spades, a shovel, anda pick-axe, and all of them could be busy at the same time. There werebaskets in which the dirt could be carried off, and thrown into the deepchannel close by, where it would not be seen. This was also a fortunatecircumstance; for to have carried the stuff any great distance, wouldhave made the job still heavier, and more difficult to execute in propertime. Having marked the outlines of the pit, they went to work with spade, shovel, and pick. The ground proved tolerably loose, and the pick wasbut little needed. The field-cornet himself handled one of the spadesHendrik the other, while Swartboy acted as shoveller, and filled thebaskets as fast as Hans and Totty, assisted by Trüey and little Jan, could empty them. These last carried a small basket of their own, andcontributed very materially to the progress of the work, by lighteningthe labours of Hans and Totty. And so the work went merrily on until midnight, and even after thathour, under the light of a full moon; by which time the diggers wereburied to their necks. But they were now fatigued. They knew they could easily complete the pitnext day; and so they laid down their implements, and after performingtheir ablutions in the crystal water of the stream, retired to theirsleeping-quarters in the tree. By early dawn they were at it again, busy as bees; and the pitprogressed so rapidly that before they stopped to take breakfast, VonBloom could scarce see out of it standing on his toes, and the crown ofSwartboy's woolly head was nearly two feet below the surface. A littlemore digging would do. After breakfast they went to work as briskly as ever; and laboured awayuntil they considered that the hole was sunk to a sufficient depth. Itwould have taken a springbok to have leaped out of it; and no quaggacould possibly have cleared itself from such a pit. Poles and bushes were now cut; and the pit was neatly covered withthese, and strewed over, as well as a large tract of the adjoiningground, with rushes and grass. The most sagacious animal would have beendeceived by the appearance; even a fox could not have discovered thetrap before tumbling into it. They had completed the work before going to dinner, --which, consequently, fell late on that day--so nothing more remained to be donebut to dine, and await the coming of the quaggas. At dinner they were all very merry, notwithstanding the immense fatiguethey had gone through. The prospect of capturing the quaggas was veryexciting, and kept the party in high spirits. Each offered a prognostication as to the result. Some said theywould trap three quaggas at the least; while others were more sanguine, and believed they might take twice that number. Jan did not see whythe pit should not be full; and Hendrik thought this probableenough--considering the way they intended to drive the quaggas into it. It certainly seemed so. The pit had been made of sufficient width topreclude the possibility of the animals leaping over it, while it wasdug lengthwise across the path, so that they could not miss it. The layof the ground would guide them directly into it. It is true that, were they to be left to themselves, and permitted tofollow their usual method of marching--that is, in single file--onlyone, the leader, might be caught. The rest, seeing him fall in, would besure to wheel round, and gallop off in a different direction. But it was not the intention of the hunters to leave things thus. Theyhad planned a way by which the quaggas, at a certain moment, would bethrown into a complete panic, and thus forced pell-mell upon the pit. Inthis lay their hopes of securing a large number of the animals. Four was as many as were wanted. One for each of the hunters. Four woulddo; but of course it mattered not how many more got into the pit. Themore the better, as a large number would give them the advantage of"pick and choose. " Dinner over, the hunters set about preparing for the reception of theirexpected visitors. As already stated, the dinner had been later thanusual; and it was now near the hour when the quaggas might be lookedfor. In order to be in time, each took his station. Hans, Hendrik, andSwartboy, placed themselves in ambush around the lake--at intervals fromone another; but the lower end, where the animals usually approached andwent out, was left quite open. Von Bloom remained on the platform in thetree, so as to mark the approach of the quaggas, and give warning by asignal to the other three. The positions taken by these were such, thatthey could guide the herd in the direction of the pit, by merely comingout of the bushes where they lay concealed. In order that they shouldshow themselves simultaneously, and at the proper moment, they were towait for a signal from the tree. This was to be the firing of the great"roer, " loaded blank. Hans and Hendrik were also to fire blank shots ondiscovering themselves, and by this means the desired panic would beproduced. The whole scheme was well contrived, and succeeded admirably. The herdappeared filing over the plain, just as on the preceding days. Von Bloomannounced their approach to the three in ambush, by repeating in asubdued tone the words, -- "Quaggas are coming!" The unsuspecting animals filed through the gorge, scattered about in thewater, drank their fill, and then commenced retiring by the path onwhich lay the trap. The leader having climbed the bank, and seeing the fresh grass andrushes strewed upon the path, uttered a snorting bark, and seemed halfinclined to wheel round. But just at that moment boomed the louddetonation of the roer; and, then, like lesser echoes, the reports ofthe smaller guns on the right and left, while Swartboy shouted at thetop pitch of his voice, from another quarter. A look back showed the quaggas that they were well-nigh surrounded bystrange enemies. But one course appeared open to them--the way they werewont to go; and barking with affright, the whole drove dashed up thebank, and crowded on towards the pit. Then was heard a confused noise--the cracking of the poles--thetrampling of many hoofs--the dull sounds of heavy bodies fallingtogether, and mingling in a continuous struggle--and the wild snorting, as the creatures hurried forward in affright. Some were seen springinghigh in the air, as if to overleap the pit. Others poised themselves ontheir hind hoofs, and wheeling round, ran back into the lake. Somedashed off through the bushes, and escaped in that way; but the greatbody of the drove came running back, and plunging through the water, made off by the gorge through which they had come. In a few minutes notone was in sight. The boys thought they had all escaped; but Von Bloom, from his moreelevated position in the tree, could perceive the snouts of severalprotruding above the edge of the pit. On arriving at the spot, to their great satisfaction the huntersdiscovered no less than eight full-grown quaggas in the trap--just twicethe number required to mount the party. In less than two weeks from that time, four of the quaggas were brokento the saddle, and perfectly obedient to the bit. Of course there was agood deal of kicking, and plunging, and flinging, and many hard gallops, and some ugly falls, before it came to this; but both the BushmanSwartboy and the Bush-boy Hendrik were expert in the _manège_ of horses, and soon tamed the quaggas to a proper degree of docility. Upon the very first occasion when these animals were used in the hunt ofthe elephant, they rendered the very service expected of them. Theelephant, as usual, bolted after receiving the first shot; but thehunters on "quagga-back" were enabled to keep him in sight, and followrapidly upon his heels. As soon as the elephant discovered that, run ashe would, his pursuers had the power of overtaking him, he disdained tofly farther, and stood to bay; thus giving them the opportunity ofdelivering shot after shot, until a mortal wound brought his huge bodyto the earth. Von Bloom was delighted. His hopes were high, his benignant star wasonce more in the ascendant. He would yet accomplish his design. He would yet be rich. A few years, would enable him to build up his fortune--to construct a pyramid ofivory! CHAPTER XXXVIII. DRIVING IN THE ELAND. Of all the family Hendrik was the hunter _par excellence_. It was he whohabitually stored the larder; and upon days when they were not engagedin the chase of the elephant, Hendrik would be abroad alone in pursuitof antelopes, and other creatures, that furnished their usualsubsistence. Hendrik kept the table well supplied. Antelopes are the principal game of South Africa--for Africa is thecountry of the antelope above all others. You may be surprised to hearthat there are seventy different species of antelopes over all theearth--that more than fifty of these are African, and that thirty atleast belong to South Africa--that is, the portion of the continentlying between the Cape of Good Hope and the Tropic of Capricorn. It would require the space of a whole book, therefore, to give a fairaccount--a monograph--of the antelopes alone; and I cannot afford thatspace here. At present I can only say that Africa is the great antelopecountry, although many fine species exist also in Asia--that in Americathere is but one kind, the prong-horn, with which you are already wellacquainted--and that in Europe there are two, though one of these, thewell-known "chamois, " is as much goat as antelope. I shall farther remark, that the seventy species of animals, bynaturalists classed as antelopes, differ widely from one another inform, size, colour, pelage, habits; in short, in so many respects, thattheir classification under the name of Antelope is very arbitraryindeed. Some approximate closely to the goat tribe; others are more likedeer; some resemble oxen; others are closely allied to the buffalo;while a few species possess many of the characteristics of wild sheep! As a general thing, however, they are more like to deer than any otheranimals; and many species of them are, in common parlance, called deer. Indeed, many antelopes are more like to certain species of deer than toothers of their own kind. The chief distinction noted between them andthe deer is, that the antelopes have horny horns, that are persistent orpermanent, while those of the deer are osseous or bony, and are annuallycast. Like the deer the different species of antelopes possess very differenthabits. Some frequent the wide open plains; some the deep forest; somewander by the shady banks of streams; while others love to dwell uponthe rocky steep, or the dry ravines of the mountains. Some browse uponthe grass; while others, goat-like, prefer the leaves and tender twigsof trees. In fact, so different are these creatures in habits, thatwhatever be the natural character of a district of country, it will befound the favourite home of one or more species. Even the very deserthas its antelopes, that prefer the parched and waterless plain to themost fertile and verdant valley. Of all antelopes the "eland, " or "caana" is the largest. It measuresfull seventeen hands at the shoulder--being thus equal in height to avery large horse. A large eland weighs one thousand pounds. It is aheavily formed animal, and an indifferent runner, as a mounted huntercan gallop up to one without effort. Its general proportions are notunlike those of a common ox, but its horns are straight and risevertically from the crown, diverging only slightly from one another. These are two feet in length, and marked by a ridge that passes spirallyaround them nearly to the tips. The horns of the female are longer thanthose of the male. The eyes of the eland, like those of most antelopes, are large, bright, and melting, without any expression of fierceness; and the animal, though so very large and strong, is of the most innocuousdisposition--showing fight only when driven to desperation. The general colour of this antelope is dun, with a rufous tinge. Sometimes ashy grey touched with ochre is the prevailing hue. The eland is one of those antelopes that appear to be independent ofwater. It is met with upon the desert plains, far from either spring orstream; and it even seems to prefer such situations--perhaps from thegreater security it finds there--though it is also a denizen of thefertile and wooded districts. It is gregarious, the sexes herdingseparately, and in groups of from ten to a hundred individuals. The flesh of the eland is highly esteemed, and does not yield indelicacy to that of any of the antelope, deer, or bovine tribes. It hasbeen compared to tender beef with a game flavour; and the muscles of thethighs when cured and dried produce a _bonne bouche_, known under theodd appellation of "thigh-tongues. " Of course the eland affording such excellent meat, and in so large aquantity, is zealously hunted for his spoils. Being only a poor runnerand always very fat, the hunt is usually a short one; and ends in theeland being shot down, skinned, and cut up. There is no great excitementabout this chase, except that it is not every day an eland can bestarted. The ease with which they can be captured, as well as the valueof their venison, has led to the thinning off of these antelopes; and itis only in remote districts where a herd of them can be found. Now since their arrival, no elands had been seen, though now and thentheir spoor was observed; and Hendrik, for several reasons, was verydesirous of getting one. He had never shot an eland in his life--thatwas one reason--and another was, that he wished to procure a supply ofthe fine venison which lies in such quantities over the ribs of theseanimals. It was, therefore, with great delight, that Hendrik one morning receivedthe report that a herd of elands had been seen upon the upper plain, andnot far off. Swartboy, who had been upon the cliffs, brought this reportto camp. Without losing any more time than sufficed to get the direction fromSwartboy, Hendrik mounted his quagga, shouldered his rifle, and rode offin search of the herd. Not far from the camp there was an easy pass, leading up the cliff tothe plain above. It was a sort of gorge or ravine; and from the numeroustracks of animals in its bottom, it was evidently much used as a roadfrom the upper plain to that in which were the spring and stream. Certain animals, such as the zebras and quaggas, and others thatfrequent the dry desert plains from preference, were in the habit ofcoming by this path when they required water. Up the gorge rode Hendrik; and no sooner had he arrived at its top, thanhe discovered the herd of elands--seven old bulls--about a mile off uponthe upper plain. There was not cover enough to have sheltered a fox. The only growth nearthe spot where the elands were, consisted of straggling aloe plants, euphorbias, with some stunted bushes, and tufts of dry grass, characteristic of the desert. There was no clump large enough to havesheltered a hunter from the eye of his game; and Hendrik at once came tothe conclusion, that the elands could not be "stalked" in the situationthey then occupied. Now, though Hendrik had never hunted this antelope, he was wellacquainted with its habits, and knew how it ought to be chased. He knewthat it was a bad runner; that any old horse could bring up with it; andthat his quagga--the fastest of the four that had been tamed--could dothe same. It was only a question of "start, " therefore. Could he get near enoughthe bulls to have a fair start, he would run one of them down to acertainty. The result might be different should the elands take thealarm at a long distance off, and scour away over the plain. To get within fair starting distance, that was the point to beattempted. But Hendrik was a wary hunter, and soon accomplished this. Instead ofriding direct for the elands, he made a grand circuit--until he had gotthe herd between him and the cliff--and then, heading his quagga forthem, he rode quietly forward. He did not sit erect in the saddle, but held himself bent down, untilhis breast almost touched the withers of the quagga. This he did todeceive the elands, who would otherwise have recognised him as an enemy. In such a fashion they could not make out what kind of creature wascoming towards them; but stood for a long while gazing at Hendrik andhis quagga with feelings of curiosity, and of course some little alarm. They, however, permitted the hunter to get within five hundred yardsdistance--near enough for him--before they broke off in their heavylumbering gallop. Hendrik now rose in his saddle, put spurs to his quagga, and followedthe herd at full speed. As he had designed, so it came to pass. The elands ran straight in thedirection of the cliff--not where the pass was, but where there wasnone--and, on reaching the precipice, were of course forced to turn intoa new direction, transverse to their former one. This gave Hendrik theadvantage, who, heading his quagga diagonally, was soon upon the heelsof the herd. It was Hendrik's intention to single out one of the bulls, and run himdown--leaving the others to gallop off wherever they wished. His intention was carried out; for shortly after, the fattest of thebulls shot to one side, as if to escape in that way, while the rest ranon. The bull was not so cunning as he thought himself. Hendrik's eye wasupon him; and in a moment the quagga was turned upon his track. Another burst carried both game and pursuer nearly a mile across theplain. The eland had turned from a rufous dun colour to that of a leadenblue; the saliva fell from his lips in long streamers, foam dappled hisbroad chest, the tears rolled out of his big eyes, and his gallop becamechanged to a weary trot. He was evidently "blown. " In a few minutes more the quagga was close upon his heels; and then thehuge antelope, seeing that farther running could not serve him, haltedin despair, and faced round towards his pursuer. Now Hendrik had his loaded rifle in his hand, and you expect to hearthat he instantly raised it to his shoulder, took aim, fired, andbrought down the eland. I must disappoint you, then, by telling you that he did no such thing. Hendrik was a real hunter--neither rash nor wasteful of his resources. He knew a better plan than to kill the eland upon the spot. He knew thatthe animal was now quite in his power; and that he could drive himwherever he pleased, just like a tame ox. To have killed the creature onthe spot would have been a waste of powder and shot. More than that, itwould have rendered necessary all the trouble of transporting its fleshto camp--a double journey at least--and with the risk of the hyenaseating up most of it in his absence. Whereas he could save all thistrouble by driving the eland to camp; and this was his design. Without firing a shot, therefore, he galloped on past the blown bull, headed him, turned him round, and then drove him before him in thedirection of the cliff. The bull could make neither resistance nor opposition. Now and again hewould turn and trot off in a contrary direction; but he was easilyheaded again, and at length forced forward to the top of the pass. CHAPTER XXXIX. A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. Hendrik was congratulating himself on his success. He anticipated somepleasure in the surprise he was about to create at camp, when he shouldmarch in with the eland--for he had no doubt that he would succeed indoing so. Indeed, there appeared no reason to doubt it. The bull had alreadyentered the gorge, and was moving down it, while Hendrik and his quaggawere hurrying forward to follow. The hunter had arrived within a few yards of the top, when a loudtrampling noise sounded in his ears, as if a band of heavy-footedanimals were coming up the gorge. He spurred his quagga forward, in order to reach the edge, and get aview down the ravine. Before he was able to do so, he was surprised tosee the eland gallop up again, and try to pass him upon the plain. Ithad evidently received fresh alarm, from something in the gorge; andpreferred facing its old enemy to encountering the new. Hendrik did not give his attention to the eland. He could ride it downat any time. He was more anxious first to know what had given it thestart backward; so he continued to press forward to the head of theravine. He might have thought of lions, and acted with greater prudence; but thetrampling of hoofs which still echoed up the pass told him that lionswere not the cause of the eland's alarm. He at length reached a point where he could see down the declivity. Hehad not far to look--for already the animals that were making the noisewere close up to him; and he perceived they were nothing more than atroop of quaggas. He was not over-pleased at this interruption to his drive; and the lessdid he like it, that the intruders were quaggas--ill-conditioned brutesthat they were! Had they been game animals, he would have shot one; butthe only motive that would have induced him to shoot one of the quaggaswould have been a feeling of anger--for, at that moment, he was reallyangry at them. Without knowing it, poor brutes! they had likely given him cause for agood deal of trouble: for it would cost him a good deal, before he couldhead the eland again, and get it back into the pass. No wonder, then, hewas vexed a little. But his vexation was not so grievous as to cause him to fire upon theapproaching herd; and, turning aside, he rode after the eland. He had hardly left the spot, when the quaggas came out of the pass, following each other to the number of forty or fifty. Each, as he sawthe mounted hunter, started with affright, and bolted off, until thewhole drove stretched out in a long line over the plain, snorting anduttering their loud "coua-a-g" as they ran. Hendrik would hardly have regarded this movement under ordinarycircumstances. He had often seen herds of quaggas, and was in no waycurious about them. But his attention was drawn to this herd, from hisnoticing, as they passed him, that four of them had their tails dockedshort; and from this circumstance, he recognised them as the four thathad been caught in the pit-trap and afterwards set free. Swartboy, forsome purpose of his own, had cut off the hair before letting them go. Hendrik had no doubt it was they, and that the herd was the same thatused to frequent the vley, but that on account of the ill-treatment theyhad met with, had never since shown themselves in the neighbourhood. Now these circumstances coming into Hendrik's mind at the moment, ledhim to regard the quaggas with a certain feeling of curiosity. Thesudden fright which the animals took on seeing him, and the comicappearance of the four with the stumped tails, rather inclined Hendriktowards merriment, and he laughed as he galloped along. As the quaggas went off in the same direction which the eland had taken, of course Hendrik's road and theirs lay so far together; and on gallopedhe at their heels. He was curious to try the point--much disputed inregard to horses--how far a mounted quagga would be able to cope with anunmounted one. He was curious moreover, to find out whether his ownquagga was quite equal to any of its old companions. So on swept thechase, the eland leading, the quaggas after, and Hendrik bringing up therear. Hendrik had no need to ply the spur. His gallant steed flew like thewind. He seemed to feel that his character was staked upon the race. Hegained upon the drove at every spring. The heavy-going eland was soon overtaken, and as it trotted to one side, was passed. It halted, but the quaggas kept on. Not only the drove kept on, but Hendrik's quagga following close attheir heels; and in less than five minutes they had left the eland afull mile in their rear, and were still scouring onward over the wideplain. What was Hendrik about? Was he going to forsake the eland, and let itescape? Had he grown so interested in the race? Was he jealous about hisquagga's speed, and determined it should beat all the others? So it would have appeared to any one witnessing the race from adistance. But one who could have had a nearer view of it, would havegiven a different explanation of Hendrik's conduct. The fact was, that as soon as the eland halted, Hendrik intended to haltalso; and for that purpose pulled strongly upon his bridle. But, to hisastonishment, he found that his quagga did not share his intention. Instead of obeying the bit, the animal caught the steel in his teeth, and laying his ears back, galloped straight on! Hendrik then endeavoured to turn the quagga to one side, and for thispurpose wrenched his right rein; but with such fierceness, that the oldbit-ring gave way--the bit slipped through the animal's jaws--thehead-stall came off with the jerk--and the quagga was completelyunbridled! Of course the animal was now free to go just as he liked; and it wasplain that he liked to go with his old comrades. His old comrades hewell knew them to be, as his snorting and occasional neigh ofrecognition testified. At first Hendrik was disposed to look upon the breaking of his bit asonly a slight misfortune. For a boy he was one of the best riders inSouth Africa, and needed no rein to steady him. He could keep his seatwithout one. The quagga would soon stop, and he could then repair thebit, and re-adjust the bridle which he still held in his hands. Suchwere his reflections at first. But their spirit began to alter, when he found that the quagga, insteadof lessening his pace, kept on as hard as ever, and the herd still ranwildly before him without showing the slightest signs of coming to ahalt. In fact, the quaggas were running through fear. They saw the mountedhunter behind them in hot pursuit; and although their old comrade knewwho they were, how were they to tell what he was, with such a tall hunchupon his back? No quagga he, but some terrible monster, they imagined, thirsting for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of them! No wonder they showed their heels in the best style they knew how; andso well did they show them, that Hendrik's quagga--notwithstanding hiskeen desire to get forward among them, and explain away the awkwardbusiness upon his back--was not able to come an inch closer. He did not lose ground, however. His eagerness to regain hisold associates--to partake once more of their wild freedom--forhe was desperately tired of civilised society, and sick ofelephant-hunting--all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment, and nerved him to the utmost exertion. Could he only get up into thebody of the crowd--for the herd now ran in a crowd--a few whimpers wouldsuffice to explain--they would come to a halt at once, --they wouldgather around him, and assist both with hoofs and teeth to get "shed" ofthe ugly two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal vertebrĉ. It was "no go, " however. Although he was so close to their heels, thatthey flung dust in his face, and small pebbles in the face of his rider, to the no slight inconvenience of the latter; although he "whighered"whenever he could spare breath, and uttered his "couag, --couag!" inreality calling them by name, it was "no go. " They would not stay. Theywould not hear. And what did Hendrik during all this time? Nothing--he could do nothing. He could not stay the impetuous flight of his steed. He dared notdismount. He would have been hurled among sharp rocks, had he attemptedsuch a thing. His neck would have been broken. He could donothing--nothing but keep his seat. What thought he? At first, not much. At first he regarded the adventurelightly. When he was about completing his third mile, he began to deemit more serious; and as he entered upon the fifth, he became convincedthat he was neither more nor less than in a very awkward scrape. But the fifth mile was left behind, and then a sixth, and a seventh; andstill the quaggas galloped wildly on--the drove actuated by the fear oflosing their liberty, and their old comrade by the desire of regaininghis. Hendrik now felt real uneasiness. Where were they going? Where was thebrute carrying him? Perhaps off to the desert, where he might be lostand perish of hunger or thirst! Already he was many miles from thecliffs, and he could no longer tell their direction. Even had he haltedthen and there, he could not tell which way to turn himself. He would belost! He grew more than anxious. He became frightened in earnest. What was he to do? Leap down, and risk his neck in the fall? He wouldlose his quagga and his saddle as well--he regarded the eland as alreadylost--he would have to walk back to camp, and get laughed at on hisreturn. No matter for all that; his life was in danger if he kept on. Thequaggas might gallop twenty, --aye, fifty miles before halting. Theyshowed no symptoms of being blown--no signs of giving out. He must flinghimself to the ground, and let quagga and saddle go. He had formed this resolution, and was actually about to put it inpractice. He was just considering how he might best escape an uglyfall--looking for a soft spot--when, all at once, a grand idea rushedinto his mind. [Illustration: HENDRICK BLINDING THE QUAGGA. ] He remembered that in taming this same quagga and breaking him to thesaddle, he had been vastly aided by a very simple contrivance--that wasa "blind. " The blind was nothing more than a piece of soft leather tiedover the animal's eyes; but so complete had been its effect, that it hadtransformed the quagga at once from a kicking screaming creature into adocile animal. Hendrik now thought of the blind. True, he had none. Was there nothing about him that would serve as one?His handkerchief? No, it would be too thin. Hurrah! His jacket would do! His rifle was in the way. It must be got rid of. It must be dropped tothe ground. He could return for it. It was let down as gently as possible, and soon left far behind. In a twinkling Hendrik stripped off his jacket. How was it to bearranged so as to blind the quagga? It would not do to drop it. A moment's consideration served the ready boy to mature his plan. Aftera moment he bent down, passed a sleeve upon each side under the quagga'sthroat, and then knotted them together. The jacket thus rested over theanimal's mane, with the collar near its withers, and the peak or skirtupon the small of its neck. Hendrik next leaned as far forward as he could, and with his extendedarms pushed the jacket up the animal's neck, until the skirt passed overits ears, and fell down it front of its face. It was with some difficulty that the rider, bent down as he was, couldretain his seat; for as soon as the thick flap of cloth came down overthe eyes of the quagga, the latter halted as if he had been shot dead inhis tracks. He did not fall, however, but only stood still, quiveringwith terror. His gallop was at an end! Hendrik leaped to the ground. He was no longer afraid that the quagga, blinded as he now was, would make any attempt to get off; nor did he. In a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced by a strong rheim ofraw leather; the bit inserted between the quagga's teeth, the head-stallsafely buckled, and Hendrik once more in the saddle, with his jacketupon his back. The quagga felt that he was conquered. His old associates were no longerin sight to tempt him from his allegiance; and with theseconsiderations, aided by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned hishead, and moved sullenly upon the back track. Hendrik knew nothing about the route he should take. He followed backthe spoor of the quaggas to the place where he had dropped his gun, which after riding a mile or two he recovered. As there was no sun in the sky, nor other object to guide him, hethought he could not do better than trace back the spoor; and althoughit led him by many a devious route, and he saw nothing more of hiseland, before night he reached the pass in the cliff, and was soon aftersitting under the shadow of the nwana-tree, regaling a most interestedaudience with the narrative of his day's adventures. CHAPTER XL. THE GUN-TRAP. It was about this time that the field-cornet and his people were verymuch annoyed by beasts of prey. The savoury smell which their camp dailysent forth, as well as the remains of antelopes, killed for theirvenison, attracted these visitors. Hyenas and jackals were constantlyskulking in the neighbourhood, and at night came around the greatnwana-tree in scores, keeping up their horrid chorus for hours together. It is true that nobody feared these animals, as the children at nightwere safe in their aërial home, where the hyenas could not get at them. But for all that, the presence of the brutes was very offensive, as nota bit of meat--not a hide, nor rheim, nor any article of leather--couldbe left below without their getting their teeth upon it, and chewing itup. Quarters of venison they had frequently stolen, and they had eatenup the leathern part of Swartboy's saddle, and rendered it quite uselessfor a while. In short, so great a pest had the hyenas grown to be, thatit became necessary to adopt some mode of destroying them. It was not easy to get a shot at them. During the day they were wary, and either hid themselves in caves of the cliff or in the burrows of theant-eater. At night they were bold enough, and came into the very camp;but then the darkness hindered a good aim, and the hunters knew too wellthe value of powder and lead to waste it on a chance shot, though nowand then, when provoked by the brutes, they ventured one. But some way must be thought of to thin the numbers of these animals, orget rid of them altogether. This was the opinion of everybody. Two or three kinds of traps were tried, but without much success. A pitthey could leap out of, and from a noose they could free themselves bycutting the rope by their sharp teeth! At length the field-cornet resorted to a plan--much practised by theboers of Southern Africa for ridding their farms of these and similar"vermin. " It was the "gun-trap. " Now there are several ways of constructing a gun-trap. Of course a gunis the principal part of the mechanism, and the trigger pulled by astring is the main point of the contrivance. In some countries the baitis tied to the string, and the animal on seizing the bait tightens thestring, draws the trigger, and shoots itself. In this way, however, there is always some uncertainty as to the result. The animal may notplace its body in the proper position with regard to the muzzle, and mayeither escape the shot altogether, or may be only "creased, " and ofcourse get off. The mode of setting the "gun-trap" in South Africa is a superior plan;and the creature that is so unfortunate as to draw the trigger rarelyescapes, but is either killed upon the spot, or so badly wounded as toprevent its getting away. Von Bloom constructed his trap after the approved fashion, asfollows:--Near the camp he selected a spot where three saplings or youngtrees grew, standing in a line, and about a yard between each two ofthem. Had he not found these trees so disposed, stakes firmly driveninto the ground would have answered his purpose equally well. Thorn-bushes were now cut, and a kraal built in the usual manner--thatis with the tops of the bushes turned outwards. The size of the kraalwas a matter of no consequence; and, of course, to save labour, a smallone was constructed. One point, however, was observed in making the kraal. Its door ofopening was placed so that two of the three saplings stood like posts, one on each side of it; and an animal going into the enclosure mustneeds pass these two trees. Now for the part the gun had to play. The weapon was placed in a horizontal position against two of thesaplings, --that is, the stock against the one outside the kraal, and thebarrel against one of the door-posts, and there firmly lashed. In thisposition the muzzle was close to the edge of the entrance, and pointingdirectly to the sapling on the opposite side. It was at such a height asto have ranged with the heart of a hyena standing in the opening. The next move was to adjust the string. Already a piece of stick, several inches in length, had been fixed to the small of the stock, and, of course, behind the trigger. This was fastened transversely, but notso as to preclude all motion. A certain looseness in its adjustment gaveit the freedom required to be worked as a lever--for that was itsdesign. To each end of this little stick was fastened a string. One of thesestrings was attached to the trigger; the other, after being carriedthrough the thimbles of the ramrod, traversed across the entrance of thekraal, and was knotted upon the opposite side to the sapling that stoodthere. This string followed the horizontal direction of the barrel, andwas just "taut;" so that any farther strain upon it would act upon thelittle lever, and by that means pull the trigger; and then of course"bang" would go the roer. When this string was adjusted, and the gun loaded and cocked, the trapwas set. Nothing remained to be done but bait it. This was not a difficult task. It consisted simply in placing a piece of meat or carcass within theenclosure, and there leaving it to attract the prowling beasts to thespot. When the gun had been set, Swartboy carried up the bait--the offal of anantelope killed that day--and flung it into the kraal; and then theparty went quietly to their beds, without thinking more of the matter. They had not slept a wink, however, before they were startled by theloud "crack" of the roer, followed by a short stifled cry that told themthe gun-trap had done its work. A torch was procured, and the four hunters proceeded to the spot. Therethey found the dead body of a huge "tiger-wolf" lying doubled up in theentrance, and right under the muzzle of the gun. He had not gone a stepafter receiving the shot--in fact, had hardly kicked before dying--asthe bullet, wad, and all, had gone quite through his ribs and enteredhis heart, after making a large ugly hole in his side. Of course he musthave been within a few inches of the muzzle, when his breast, pressingagainst the string, caused the gun to go off. Having again loaded the roer, the hunters returned to their beds. Onemight suppose they would have dragged the suicidal hyena away from thespot, lest his carcass should serve as a warning to his comrades, andkeep them away from the trap. But Swartboy knew better than that. Instead of being scared by the dead body of one of their kind, thehyenas only regard it as proper prey, and will devour it as they wouldthe remains of a tender antelope! Knowing this, Swartboy did not take the dead hyena away, but only drewit within the kraal to serve as a farther inducement for the others toattempt an entrance there. Before morning they were once more awakened by the "bang" of the greatgun. This time they lay still; but when day broke they visited theirtrap, and found that a second hyena had too rashly pressed his bosomagainst the fatal string. Night after night they continued their warfare against the hyenas, changing the trap-kraal to different localities in the surroundingneighbourhood. At length these creatures were nearly exterminated, or, at all events, became so rare and shy, that their presence by the camp was no longer anannoyance one way or the other. About this time, however, there appeared another set of visitors, whosepresence was far more to be dreaded, and whose destruction the hunterswere more anxious to accomplish. That was a family of lions. The spoor of these had been often seen in the neighbourhood; but it wassome time before they began to frequent the camp. However, about thetime the hyenas had been fairly got rid of, the lions took their place, and came every night, roaring about the camp in a most terrific manner. Dreadful as these sounds were, the people were not so much afraid ofthem as one might imagine. They well knew that the lions could not getat them in the tree. Had it been leopards they might have felt lesssecure, as the latter are true tree-climbers; but they had seen noleopards in that country, and did not think of them. They were not altogether without fear of the lions, however. They wereannoyed, moreover, that they could not with safety descend from the treeafter nightfall, but were every night besieged from sunset till morning. Besides, although the cow and the quaggas were shut in strong kraals, they dreaded each night that the lions would make a seizure of one orother of these animals; and the loss of any one of them, but especiallytheir valuable friend "old Graaf, " would have been a very seriousmisfortune. It was resolved, therefore, to try the gun-trap upon the lions, as ithad succeeded so well with the hyenas. There was no difference in the construction or contrivance of the trap. The gun only had to be placed upon a higher level, so that its muzzlemight be opposite the lion's heart, and the proper range was easilyobtained. The bait, however, was not carcass, but an animal freshlykilled; and for this purpose an antelope was procured. The result was as desired. On the first night the old male lion"breasted" the fatal string and bit the dust. Next night the lioness wasdestroyed in a similar way: and shortly after a full-grown young male. The trap then lay idle for a while; but about a week after a half-grown"cub" was shot near the camp by Hendrik, no doubt the last of thatfamily, as no lions were seen for a long time after. A great enemy to night plunderers was that same gun-trap. CHAPTER XLI. THE WEAVER-BIRDS. Now that the beasts of prey had been destroyed, or driven from about thecamp, there was no longer any danger in that quarter, and the childrencould be left by themselves. Totty of course always stayed with them;while the four hunters went forth upon the chase of the elephant--eachmounted upon his quagga. They had done so many a time, and as no harm had happened to thechildren in their absence, such a course became habitual with them. Janand Trüey were cautioned not to stray far from the nwana, and always toclimb to the tree, should they perceive any animal that might bedangerous. Before the destruction of the hyenas and lions, they had beenused to remain altogether in the tree, while the hunters were absent. But this had been quite an imprisonment to them; and now that the dangerwas not considered much, they were allowed to come down and play uponthe grassy plain, or wander along the shore of the little lake. On one occasion when the hunters were abroad, Trüey had strayed down tothe edge of the water. She was alone, if we except the company of thegazelle, which followed at her heels wherever she went. This prettycreature had grown to full size, and had turned out a great beauty, withlarge round eyes that had a lovely melting expression, like the eyes ofTrüey herself. Well, as I have said, Trüey was alone. Jan was busy near the bottom ofthe tree, working a new rod into his bird-cage, and Totty was out uponthe plain herding "old Graaf"--so Trüey and the pet springbok wentstrolling along by themselves. Now Trüey had not gone down to the water without an object. She had one. She had gone to give her pet a drink, and collect some blue lilies for abouquet. All this she had done, and still continued to walk along theshore. On one side of the lake, and that the farthest from the nwana-tree, alow spit of land projected into the water. It had once been but asand-bar, but grass had grown upon it, until a green turf was formed. There was not over a square perch of it altogether, but it was notsquare in shape. On the contrary, it was of oval form, and much narrowernearest the land, where it formed a neck, or isthmus, not more thanthree feet in width. It was, in short, a miniature peninsula, which by avery little work with the spade could have been converted into aminiature island--had that been desired. Now there is nothing very remarkable about a little peninsula projectinginto a lake. In nearly every lake such a thing may be seen. But aboutthis one there was something remarkable. Upon its extreme end grew a tree of singular form and foliage. It wasnot a large tree, and its branches drooped downwards until their tipsalmost touched the water. The pendulous boughs, and long lanceolatesilvery leaves, rendered it easy to tell what sort of tree it was. Itwas the weeping or Babylonian willow--so called, because it was upontrees of this species that the captive Jews hung their harps when they"sat and wept by the streams of Babel. " This beautiful tree casts itswaving shadow over the streams of South Africa, as well as those ofAssyria; and often is the eye of the traveller gladdened by the sight ofits silvery leaves, as he beholds them--sure indications ofwater--shining afar over the parched and thirsty desert. If a Christian, he fails not to remember that highly poetical passage of sacred writing, that speaks of the willow of Babylon. Now the one which grew upon the little peninsula had all these points ofinterest for little Trüey--but it had others as well. Upon its branchesthat overhung the water a very singular appearance presented itself. Upon these was suspended--one upon the end of each branch--a number ofodd shaped objects, that hung drooping down until their lower endsnearly rested upon the surface of the water. These objects, as stated, were of a peculiar shape. At the upper ends--where they were attached tothe branches--they were globe-shaped, but the lower part consisted of along cylinder of much smaller diameter, and at the bottom of thiscylinder was the entrance. They bore some resemblance to salad-oilbottles inverted, with their necks considerably lengthened; or theymight be compared to the glass retorts seen in the laboratory of thechemist. They were each twelve or fifteen inches in length, and of a greenishcolour--nearly as green as the leaves of the tree itself. Were they itsfruit? No. The weeping willow bears no fruit of that size. They were not fruit. They were nests of birds! Yes; they were the nests of a colony of harmless finches of the genus_Ploceus_, --better known to you under the appellation of "weaver-birds. " I am sure you have heard of weaver-birds before this; and you know thatthese creatures are so called on account of the skill which they exhibitin the construction of their nests. They do not build nests, as otherbirds, but actually weave them, in a most ingenious manner. You are not to suppose that there is but one species of weaver-bird--onekind alone that forms these curious nests. In Africa--which is theprincipal home of these birds--there are many different kinds, formingdifferent genera, whose hard names I shall not trouble you with. Each ofthese different kinds builds a nest of peculiar shape, and each choosesa material different from the others. Some, as the _Ploceusicterocephalus_, make their nests of a kidney shape, with the entranceupon the sides, and the latter not circular, but like an arched doorway. Others of the genus _Plocepasser_ weave their nests in such a manner, that the thick ends of the stalks stick out all around the outside, giving them the appearance of suspended hedgehogs; while the birds ofanother genus closely allied to the latter, construct their nests ofslender twigs, leaving the ends of these to project in a similar manner. The "social grosbeak" fabricates a republic of nests in one clump, andall under one roof. The entrances are in the under-surface of this mass, which, occupying the whole top of a tree, has the appearance of ahaystack, or a dense piece of thatch. All these weaver-birds, though of different genera, bear a considerableresemblance to each other in their habits. They are usually granivorous, though some are insectivorous; and one species, the "red-billed weaverbird" is a parasite of the wild buffaloes. It is a mistake to suppose that weaver-birds are only found in Africaand the Old World, as stated in the works of many naturalists. Intropical America, birds of this character are found in many species ofthe genera _Cassicus_ and _Icterus_, who weave pensile nests of asimilar kind upon the trees of the Amazon and Orinoco. But the trueweaver-birds--that is to say, those which are considered the type of theclass, --are those of the genus _Ploceus_; and it was a species of thisgenus that had hung their pendulous habitations upon the weeping willow. They were of the species known as the "pensile weaver-bird. " There were full twenty of their nests in all, shaped as alreadydescribed, and of green colour--for the tough "Bushman's grass, " out ofwhich they had been woven, had not yet lost its verdant hue, nor wouldit for a long time. Being of this colour, they actually looked likesomething that grew upon the tree, --like great pear-shaped fruits. Nodoubt from this source have been derived the tales of ancienttravellers, who represented that in Africa were trees with fruits uponthem, which, upon being broken open, disclosed to view either livingbirds or their eggs! Now the sight of the weaver-birds, and their nests, was nothing new to Trüey. It was some time since the colony hadestablished itself upon the willow-tree, and she and they had grown wellacquainted. She had often visited the birds, had collected seeds, andcarried them down to the tree; and there was not one of the whole colonythat would not have perched upon her wrist or her pretty whiteshoulders, or hopped about over her fair locks, without fear. It wasnothing unusual to her to see the pretty creatures playing about thebranches, or entering the long vertical tunnels that led upward to theirnests--nothing unusual for Trüey to listen for hours to their sweettwittering, or watch their love-gambols around the borders of the vley. She was not thinking of them at the moment, but of something else, perhaps of the blue water-lilies--perhaps of the springbok--butcertainly not of them, as she tripped gaily along the edge of the lake. Her attention, however, was suddenly attracted to the birds. All at once, and without any apparent cause, they commenced screamingand fluttering around the tree, their cries and gestures betokening ahigh state of excitement or alarm. CHAPTER XLII. THE SPITTING-SNAKE. "What can be the matter with my pretty birds?" asked Trüey of herself. "Something wrong surely! I see no hawk. Perhaps they are fighting amongthemselves. I shall go round and see. I shall soon pacify them. " And so saying she mended her pace; and passing round the end of thelake, walked out upon the peninsula until she stood under the willow. There was no underwood. The tree stood alone upon the very end of thespit of land, and Trüey went close in to its trunk. Here she stopped andlooked up among the branches, to ascertain what was causing so muchexcitement among the birds. As she approached, several of the little creatures had flown towardsher, and alighted upon her arms and shoulders; but not as was their wontwhen desiring to be fed. They appeared to be in a state of alarm, andhad come to her for protection. Some enemy certainly must be near, thought Trüey, though she could seenone. She looked around and above. There were no hawks in the air, nor on theneighbouring trees, --no birds of prey of any kind. Had there been one inthe willow, she could easily have seen it, as the foliage was light andthin; besides a hawk would not have remained in the tree with herstanding so near. What, then, caused the trouble among the birds? whatwas still causing it--for they were as noisy and terrified as ever? Ha!At last the enemy appears--at last Trüey's eyes have fallen upon themonster who has disturbed the peaceful colony of weavers, and rousedthem to such a pitch of excitement. Slowly gliding along a horizontal branch, grasping the limb in its manyspiral folds, appeared the body of a large serpent. Its scales glitteredas it moved, and it was the shining of these that had caught Trüey'seyes, and directed them upon the hideous reptile. When she first saw it, it was gliding spirally along one of thehorizontal branches of the willow, and coming, as it were, from thenests of the birds. Her eyes, however, had scarce rested upon it, beforeits long slippery body passed from the branch, and the next moment itwas crawling head-foremost down the main trunk of the tree. Trüey had scarce time to start back, before its head was opposite thespot where she had stood. No doubt, had she kept her place she wouldhave been bitten by the serpent at once; for the reptile, on reachingthat point, detached its head from the tree, spread its jaws wide open, projected its forked tongue, and hissed horribly. It was evidentlyenraged--partly because it had failed in its plundering intentions, nothaving been able to reach the nests of the birds, --and partly that thelatter had repeatedly struck it with their beaks--no doubt causing itconsiderable pain. It was further provoked by the arrival of Trüey, inwhom it recognised the rescuer of its intended victims. Whatever were its thoughts at that moment, it was evidently in arage--as the motion of its head and the flashing of its eyes testified;and it would have sprung upon any creature that had unfortunately comeits way. Trüey, however, had no intention of getting in its way if she couldavoid it. It might be a harmless serpent for all she knew; but a snake, nearly six feet in length, whether it be harmless or venomous, is aterrible object to be near; and Trüey had instinctively glided to oneside, and stood off from it as far as the water would allow her. She would have run back over the narrow isthmus; but something told herthat the snake was about to take that direction, and might overtake her;and this thought induced her to pass to one side of the peninsula, inhopes the reptile would follow the path that led out to the mainland. Having got close to the water's edge, she stood gazing upon the hideousform, and trembled as she gazed. Had Trüey known the character of that reptile, she would have trembledall the more. She saw before her one of the most venomous of serpents, the black naja, or "spitting-snake"--the cobra of Africa--far moredangerous than its congener the _cobra de capello_ of India, because farmore active in its movements, and equally fatal in its bite. Trüey knew not this. She only knew that there was a great ugly snake, nearly twice her own length, with a large open mouth, and glisteningtongue, apparently ready to eat her up. That was fearful enough for her, poor thing! and she gazed and trembled, and trembled and gazed again. Angry as the cobra appeared, it did not turn aside to attack her. Neither did it remain by the tree. After uttering its long loud hiss, itdescended to the ground, and glided rapidly off. It made directly for the isthmus, as if intending to pass it, andretreat to some bushes that grew at a distance off on the mainland. Trüey was in hopes that such was its design, and was just beginning tofeel safe again, when, all at once, the snake coiled itself upon thenarrow neck of land, as if it intended to stay there. It had executed this manoeuvre so suddenly, and so apparently withoutpremeditation, that Trüey looked to discover the cause. The momentbefore, it was gliding along in rapid retreat, its glistening formstretched to its full length along the earth. The next instant it hadassumed the appearance of a coiled cable, over the edge of whichprojected its fierce head, with the scaly skin of its neck broadlyextended, into that hood-like form which characterises the cobra. Trüey, we have said, looked for the cause of this sudden change in thetactics of the reptile. She learnt it at the first glance. There stretched a piece of smooth sloping ground from the edge of thelake back into the plain. By this the little peninsula was approached. As she glanced outward, she saw the springbok advancing down this slope. It was the approach of the antelope that had interrupted the retreat ofthe serpent! Trüey, on first discovering the snake, had uttered a cry of alarm. Thiscry had summoned her pet--that had lingered behind browsing upon thegrass--and it was now bounding forward, with its white tail erect, andits large brown eyes glistening with an expression of inquiry. It saw its mistress out upon the peninsula. Had she called it? Why hadshe uttered that strange cry? They were not sounds of joyful import ithad heard. Was anything amiss? Yonder she stood. It would gallop to herand see what was wanted; and with such thoughts passing through itsbrain, the bright little creature bounded down the bank towards the edgeof the lake. Trüey trembled for her pet. Another spring, and it would be upon thelurking serpent--another----"Ha! it is safe!" These words escaped from the lips of the young girl, as she saw thespringbok rise high in the air, and leap far and clear over the coiledreptile. The antelope had observed the snake in time, and saved itselfby one of those tremendous bounds, such as only a springbok can make. The fond creature, having passed the danger, now ran on to its mistress, and stood with its big shining eyes bent upon her inquiringly. But the cry that Trüey had uttered had summoned another individual. Toher horror, she now saw little Jan running down the slope, and comingdirectly upon the path where the cobra lay coiled! CHAPTER XLIII. THE SERPENT-EATER. Jan's danger was imminent. He was rushing impetuously forward upon thecoiled serpent. He knew not that it was before him. No warning wouldreach him in time to stay his haste. In another moment he would be onthe narrow path, and then no power could save him from the deadly bite. It would be impossible for him to leap aside or over the reptile, as theantelope had done; for even then Trüey had noticed that the cobra haddarted its long neck several feet upwards. It would be certain to reachlittle Jan, perhaps coil itself around him. Jan would be lost. For some moments Trüey was speechless. Terror had robbed her of thepower of speech. She could only scream, and fling her arms wildly about. But these demonstrations, instead of warning Jan of the danger, onlyrendered it the more certain. He connected the cries which Trüey nowuttered with that which had first summoned him. She was in sometrouble--he knew not what; but as she continued to scream, he believedthat something had attacked her. A snake he thought it might be; butwhatever it was, his first impulse was to hurry up to her rescue. Hecould do no good until close to her; and, therefore, he did not think ofhalting until he should reach the spot where she stood. Her screams, therefore, and the wild gestures that accompanied them, only caused him to run the faster; and as his eyes were bent anxiouslyon Trüey, there was not the slightest hope that he would perceive theserpent until he had either trodden upon it, or felt its fatal bite. Trüey uttered one last cry of warning, pronouncing at the same time thewords:-- "O, brother! back! The snake! the snake!" The words were uttered in vain. Jan heard them, but did not comprehendtheir meaning. He heard the word "snake. " He was expecting as much. Ithad attacked Trüey; and although he did not see it, it was no doubtwound about her body. He hurried on. Already he was within six paces of the dread reptile, that had erectedits long spread neck to receive him. Another moment, and its envenomedfangs would pierce deep into his flesh. With a despairing scream Trüey rushed forward. She hoped to attract themonster upon herself. She would risk her own life to save that of herbrother! She had got within six feet of the threatening reptile. Jan was aboutthe same distance from it on the opposite side. They were equally inperil; and one or the other--perhaps both--would have fallen a sacrificeto the deadly cobra; but at that moment their saviour was nigh. A darkshadow passed under their eyes--in their ears was a rushing sound likethe "whish" of a falling body--and at the same instant a large birddarted down between them! It did not stay to alight. For a moment its strong broad wings agitatedthe air in their faces; but the next moment the bird made a suddeneffort, and rose vertically upwards. Trüey's eyes fell upon the ground. The cobra was no longer there. With an exclamation of joy she sprang forward, and, throwing her armsaround Jan, cried out, -- "We are saved, brother!--we are saved!" Jan was somewhat bewildered. As yet he had seen no snake. He had seenthe bird dart down between them; but so adroitly had it seized the cobraand carried it off, that Jan, looking only at Trüey, had not perceivedthe serpent in its beak. He was bewildered and terrified, for he stillfancied that Trüey was in danger. When he heard her exclaim, "We are saved!" he was bewildered all themore. "But the snake!" he cried out. "Where is the snake?" As he put these questions, he kept examining Trüey from head to foot, asif expecting to see a reptile twined around some part of her body. "The snake, Jan! Did you not see it? It was just there, at our feet; butnow--see! yonder it is. The secretary has got it. See! They arefighting! Good bird! I hope it will punish the villain for trying to robmy pretty weavers. That's it, good bird! Give it to him! See, Jan! Whata fight!" "Oh, ah!" said Jan, now comprehending the situation. "Oh, ah! Sureenough, yonder is a snake, and a wopper, too. Ne'er fear, Trüey! Trustmy secretary. He'll give the rascal a taste of his claws. There's a lickwell put in! Another touch like that, and there won't be much life leftin the scaly villain. There again, --wop!" With these and similar exclamations the two children stood watching thefierce conflict that raged between the bird and the reptile. Now this bird was a very peculiar one--so much so, that in all the worldthere is no other of the same kind. In form it resembled a crane, havingvery long legs, and being about the height and size of a crane. Its headand beak, however, were more like those of an eagle or vulture. It hadwell-developed wings, armed with spurs, and a very long tail, with thetwo middle feathers longer than the rest. Its general colour was bluishgrey, with a white throat and breast, and a reddish tinge upon thewing-feathers. But, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about the birdwas its "crest. " This consisted of a number of long, blackish plumesgrowing out of its occiput, and extending down the back of its necknearly to the shoulders. These gave the bird a very peculiar appearance;and the fancied resemblance to a secretary of the olden time with hislong quill behind his ear--before steel pens came into fashion--is thereason why the bird has received the very inappropriate name of the"Secretary-bird. " It is more properly named the "serpent-eater, " and naturalists havegiven it the title _Gypogeranus_, or "crane-vulture. " It is sometimesalso called "the messenger, " from the staid solemn manner of its walk, as it stalks over the plain. Of all its names that of "serpent-eater" is the best adapted to thecharacter of the bird. It is true there are other birds that kill andeat serpents, --as the "guaco" bird of South America, and many hawks andkites, --but the secretary is the only winged creature that makesreptiles of this class exclusively its prey, and carries on a constantwar against them. It is not strictly correct to say that it feedsexclusively upon snakes. It will also eat lizards, tortoises, and evenlocusts; but snakes are certainly its favourite food, and to obtainthese it risks its life in many a deadly encounter with those of a verylarge kind. The serpent-eater is an African bird, and is not peculiar to SouthAfrica alone, as it is found in the Gambia country. It is also a nativeof the Philippine Isles. There is some doubt whether the species of thePhilippine Isles is identical with that of Africa. A difference is notedin the plumage, though very slight. The disposition of the crest-plumesdiffers in the two, and the tail-feathers are differently arranged. Inthe African species the two middle ones are the longest, while in theserpent-eater of the Philippines it is the two outside feathers thatproject--giving the bird the appearance of having a "fork" or "swallow"tail. Some points of distinction have also been observed between theSouth African bird and that of the Gambia. The serpent-eater is, however, a very unique bird; and naturalists, failing to class it with either hawks, eagles, vultures, gallinĉ, orcranes, have elevated it, so as to form a distinct tribe, family, genus, and species, of itself. In South Africa it frequents the great plains and dry karoos, stalkingabout in search of its prey. It is not gregarious, but lives solitary orin pairs, making its nest in trees, --usually those of a thick thornyspecies, which renders the nest most difficult of approach. The wholeedifice is about three feet in diameter, and resembles the nests of thetree-building eagles. It is usually lined with feathers and down, andtwo or three eggs are the number deposited for a single hatching. The serpent-eater is an excellent runner, and spends more time on footthan on the wing. It is a shy wary bird, yet, notwithstanding, it ismost easily domesticated; and it is not uncommon to see them about thehouses of the Cape farmers, where they are kept as pets, on account oftheir usefulness in destroying snakes, lizards, and other vermin. Theyhave been long ago introduced into the French West India Islands, andnaturalised there--in order that they should make war upon the dangerous"yellow serpent, " the plague of the plantations in those parts. Now the bird which had so opportunely appeared between Jan and Trüey, and had no doubt saved one or the other, or both, from the deadly biteof the _spuugh-slang_, was a serpent-eater, --one that had been tamed, and that made its home among the branches of the great nwana-tree. Thehunters had found it upon the plain, wounded by some animal, --perhaps avery large snake, --and had brought it home as a curiosity. In time itquite recovered from its wounds; but the kindness it had received, during the period when it was an invalid, was not thrown away upon it. When it recovered the use of its wings, it refused to leave the societyof its protectors, but remained habitually in the camp--although it madefrequent excursions into the surrounding plains in search of itsfavourite food. It always, however, returned at night, and roosted amongthe branches of the great nwana-tree. Of course it was Jan's pet, andJan was very good to it; but it now repaid all his kindness in savinghim from the fangs of the deadly cobra. The children, having recovered from their alarm, stood watching thesingular conflict between serpent and serpent-eater. On first seizing the reptile, the bird had caught it by the neck in itsbeak. It might not have accomplished this so readily, had not theattention of the snake been occupied by the children, thus throwing itoff its guard. Having succeeded in seizing the reptile, the bird rose nearly in avertical direction to a height of many yards, and then opening his beakpermitted the serpent to fall to the ground. His object was to stun thelatter by the fall; and the more effectually to do this, he would havecarried the cobra still higher, had not the latter prevented it byattempting to coil itself around his wings. Upon letting fall his prey the serpent-eater did not remain in the air. On the contrary, he darted after the falling reptile, and the moment thelatter touched the ground, and before it could put itself in an attitudeof defence, the bird "pounced" upon it with spread foot, striking it aviolent blow near the neck. The snake was still but slightly damaged, and throwing itself into a coil stood upon its defence. Its mouth wasopen to its widest extent, its tongue protruded, its fangs were erect, and its eyes flashing with rage and poison. A terrible antagonist itappeared, and for a moment the secretary seemed to think so, as he stoodon the ground confronting it. But the bird soon began to advance upon it for a renewal of the attack, though this advance was made in a cautious manner. With the pinions ofone of his strong wings spread broadly out for a shield, he approachedthe reptile sideways, and, when near enough, suddenly wheeled, turningupon his leg as on a pivot, and struck sharply out with his other wing. The blow was delivered with good effect. It reached the head of thesnake, and seemed to stun it. Its neck dropped, the coils becameloosened. Before it could recover itself it was once more in the beak ofthe serpent-eater, and trailing through the air. This time the bird rose to a much greater height than before--as he wasnot hampered by the writhing of the serpent--and as before suffered thereptile to fall, and then darted suddenly after. When the snake came to the ground a second time it lay for a momentstretched at full length, as if stunned or dead. It was not dead, however, and would once more have coiled itself; but, before it could doso, the bird had repeatedly pounced upon its neck with his spread andhorny feet; and at length, watching his opportunity when the head of theserpent lay flat, he struck a blow with his sharp beak so violent, thatit split the skull of the reptile in twain! Life was now extinct, andthe hideous form, extended to its full length, lay lithe and motionlessupon the grass. Jan and Trüey clapped their hands, and uttered exclamations of joy. The serpent-eater took no heed of their demonstrations, but, approachingthe dead cobra, bent over it, and coolly set about making his dinner. CHAPTER XLIV. TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. Von Bloom and his family had now been months without bread. They werenot without a substitute, however, as various roots and nuts suppliedthem with a change of food. Of the latter, they had the ground orpig-nut, which grows in all parts of Southern Africa, and which forms astaple food of the native inhabitants. For vegetables they had the bulbsof many species of _Ixias_ and _Mesembryanthemums_, among others the"Hottentot fig. " They had the "Caffir bread"--the inside pith of thestems of a species of _Zamia_; and the "Caffir chestnut, " the fruit ofthe _Brabeium stellatum_; and last, not least, the enormous roots of the"elephant's foot. " They had wild onions and garlic too; and in the whiteflower-tops of a beautiful floating plant, they found a substitute forasparagus. All these roots and fruits were to be obtained in the neighbourhood, andno man knew better how to find them, and "crow" them up when found, thandid Swartboy the Bushman. Well might he, for in Swartboy's early days hehad often been compelled to subsist for weeks, and even months, on rootsalone! But although they could procure a constant supply of these naturalproductions, they considered them but a poor substitute for bread; andall of them longed to eat once more what is usually termed the "staff oflife"--though in South Africa, where so many people live exclusivelyupon the flesh of animals, bread is hardly entitled to that appellation. Bread they were likely to have, and soon. When treking from the oldkraal, they had brought with them a small bag of maize. It was the lastof their previous year's stock; and there was not in all over a bushelof it. But that was enough for seed, and would produce many bushels ifproperly planted, and carefully tended. This had been done shortly after their arrival at their present home. Afertile spot of ground had been selected, only a few hundred yards fromthe nwana-tree. It had been turned up with the spade, for want of aplough, and the seeds planted at proper distances. Many an hour had been given to the weeding and hoeing of it, and aroundevery plant a little hill of soft mould had been raised, to nourish theroots, and protect them from the heat of the sun. The plants were evenwatered now and then. Partly on account of this attention, and partly from the richness of thevirgin soil, a splendid growth was the result; and the stalks stood fulltwelve feet high, with ears nearly a foot long. They had almost ripened;and the field-cornet intended in about a week or ten days to gather inthe crop. Both he and all his people were anticipating pleasant feasts ofmaize-bread, and "hominy, " with "mash and milk, " and various otherdishes, that with Totty's skill could be manufactured out of the Indiancorn. About this time an incident occurred that nearly deprived them, not onlyof their whole plot of maize-plants, but also of their valuablehousekeeper, Totty. It was as follows:-- Totty was on the platform in the great nwana-tree, which commanded aview of the corn-patch, and also of the plain beyond, as far as thebottom of the cliffs. She was busied about "house" affairs, when herattention was called off, by some singular noises that came from thatdirection. She parted the branches and looked through. A singular scenewas before her eyes--a spectacle of no common kind. A body of odd-looking animals, to the number of two hundred or more, wascoming from the direction of the cliffs. They were creatures of ungainlyforms--in make and size not unlike large ill-shaped dogs--and of agreenish-brown colour. Their faces and ears only were black, and thesewere naked, while their bodies were covered with harsh coarse hair. Theyhad long tails, which some of them carried high in the air, andflourished about in a very eccentric manner. Totty was by no means alarmed. She knew what sort of animals they were. She knew they were baboons. They were of the species known as the"pig-faced" baboon or "chacma" (_Cynocephalus porcarius_), which isfound in nearly every part of South Africa where there are high cliffswith caves and crevices--the favourite dwelling-places of the baboon. Of all the monkey tribe the baboons, or dog-headed monkeys(_cynocephali_), are the most disgusting in form and features. Who doesnot feel disgust when regarding the hideous mandrill--the drill--thehamadryas--or even the chacma? And all these are baboons. The baboonsare peculiar to Africa, and there are six well-known species ofthem:--the common baboon of North Africa, the "papion" of the south andwestern coast, the "hamadryas or tartarin" of Abyssinia, the "mandrill"and "drill" of Guinea, and the "chacma" of the Cape Colony. The habits of these animals are as disgusting as their appearance. Theymay be tamed, and made "pets" of; but dangerous pets they are, as theywill, upon, the slightest provocation, bite the hand that feeds them. Their great strength of body and jaw, and their long canine teeth, givethem a dangerous power, which they often make use of. No dog is a matchfor one, and the hyena and leopard often come off second best in anencounter with a baboon. They are not carnivorous, however, and only tear their enemy to pieceswithout eating it. Their food consists of fruits and bulbous roots, which they well understand to dig out of the ground with the sharp nailsof their hands. Although they will not attack man if left alone, they become dangerousassailants when hunted and brought to bay. Many odd stories are told of the chacma baboon among the settlers ofSouthern Africa, such as their robbing the traveller of his food, andthen going off to some distance, and mocking him, while they devour it. The natives also say that they sometimes use a stick in walking, "crowing" for roots, and in self-defence. Also, when a young one hassucceeded in finding a choice root, and is observed by an older andstronger one, that the latter takes it away; but, should the young onehave already swallowed it, then the bully picks him up, turns him headdownward, and shakes him until he is forced to "disgorge!" Many suchtales are current in the country of the boers, and they are not allwithout foundation, for these animals most certainly possess the powerof reflection in a high degree. Totty from her perch saw enough to convince her of this, had she beenherself inclined to philosophise. But she was not. She was only a littlecurious about the manoeuvres of the animals, and she called Trüey andlittle Jan up into the tree, in order that they might share thespectacle with her. All the others were off hunting. Jan was delighted, and ran up the ladder at once. So did Trüey and allthree stood watching the odd movements of the four-handed creatures. They perceived that the troop was actually marching in order; not inline, but with some understood arrangement. There were scouts upon thewings, and leaders in front. These were baboons of greater age and sizethan the others. There were calls and signals, and the change of accentand tone would have convinced any one that a regular conversation wasgoing on. The females and younger ones marched in the middle for bettersecurity. The mothers carried their infants upon their backs, or overtheir shoulders. Now a mother would stop to suckle her littleoffspring--dressing its hair at the same time--and then gallop forwardto make up for the loss. Now one would be seen beating her child, thathad in some way given offence. Now two young females would quarrel, fromjealousy or some other cause, and then a terrible chattering wouldensue, to be silenced by the loud threatening bark of one of the chiefs! Thus proceeded they across the plain, chattering, and screaming, andbarking, as only monkeys can. What were they after? That question was answered very soon. Trüey and Jan, and Totty saw, totheir dismay, that the baboons were not out upon an idle errand. Theywere after the maize-plants! [Illustration: TOTTY IN TROUBLE. ] In a few minutes most of the troop had entered the corn-field, and werehidden from view by the tall stems and broad leaves of the plants. A fewonly could be seen, --large old fellows, that stationed themselvesoutside as sentinels, and were keeping up a constant interchange ofsignals. The main body was already stripping the plants of theirprecious fruit. But a singular appearance presented itself beyond the corn-field, wherea line of baboons, stationed at equal distance from one another, extended away to the very bottom of the cliff. These had been left by aregular manoeuvre, --a deployment--as the troop traversed the plain incoming to the field. For what purpose? That was soon apparent. In less than two minutes after the crowddisappeared under the shelter of the maize-plants, the long heads intheir husks were seen showering out towards the line, as if flung by thehand of man! Those placed at the near end of the line immediately tookthem up, pitched them to the next, and these to the next, and so on, until, in a very short while from the time a head was plucked from thestalk, it was delivered to the storehouse of the baboons far off amongthe cliffs! Had this work gone on much longer the field-cornet would have had but apoor gathering in harvest time. The baboons thought the corn ripeenough, and would soon have made a crop of it, but at this moment theiroperations were interrupted. Totty knew but little of the danger she underwent, when she ran forthwith nothing but that long broom-handle to drive off a troop of chacmas. She only thought of the loss her kind master was sustaining; and downthe ladder she hurried, and ran straight out to the corn-field. Several sentinels met her by its edge, grinned, chattered, screamed, barked, and showed their long canine teeth; but they only received ablow over their ugly snouts from the broom-handle. Their cries summonedthe others; and in a few moments the poor Hottentot was standing in themidst of an angry circle of chacmas, that were only prevented fromspringing in upon her by the expert manner in which she continued to plythe broom-stick. But this slight weapon would not have served much longer, and Totty'sfate--that of being torn to pieces--would soon have been sealed, had notfour horsemen, or rather "quagga-men, " at that moment galloped up to herrescue. These were the hunters returning from the chase; and a volley from theirguns at once scattered the ugly chacmas, and sent them howling back totheir caves. After that the field-cornet looked well to his maize, until it was readyfor gathering; when it was all brought home, and deposited in safety outof the reach of either birds, reptiles, quadrupeds, or _quadrumana_. CHAPTER XLV. THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. Since the taming of the quaggas the hunting had been attended withtolerable success. Not a week passed without adding a pair oftusks--sometimes two or three pairs--to the collection, which now beganto assume the form of a little pyramid of ivory standing near the bottomof the nwana. Von Bloom, however, was not quite satisfied with his progress. Hethought they might do far better if they had only a few dogs. Though the quaggas were of great service to them, and with these theywere often able to overtake the elephant, yet they as often lost theirgreat game, and it is more easy to do so than most persons imagine. But with dogs to join in the hunt, the result would be quite different. It is true these animals cannot pull down an elephant, nor do him theslightest injury; but they can follow him whithersoever he may go, andby their barking bring him to a stand. Another valuable service which the dogs perform, is in drawing theattention of the elephant away from the hunters. The huge quadruped whenenraged is, as we have already seen, exceedingly dangerous. On suchoccasions he will charge upon the noisy dogs, mistaking them for hisreal assailants. This, of course, gives the hunter a good opportunity ofdelivering his fire, and avoiding the deadly encounter of the elephant. Now in several elephant-hunts which they had lately made, our huntershad run some very narrow risks. Their quaggas were neither so manageablenor so quick in their movements as horses would have been, and thisrendered the hazard still greater. Some of them might one day fall avictim. So feared Von Bloom; and he would gladly have given for a numberof dogs an elephant's tusk a-piece--even though they were the mostworthless of curs. Indeed, their quality is but of slight importance. Any dogs that can trace the elephant and pester him with their barkingwould do. Von Bloom even thought of taming some hyenas, and training them to thehunt. This idea was by no means quixotic. The hyena is often used forsuch a purpose, and performs even better than many kinds of dogs. One day Von Bloom was pondering over this subject. He was seated on alittle platform that had been constructed very high up--near the top ofthe nwana-tree--from which a view could be had of the whole countryaround. It was a favourite resort of the field-cornet--his smoking-room, in fact--where he went every evening to enjoy a quiet pull out of hisgreat meerschaum. His face was turned upon the plain that stretched fromthe border of the _bosch_ as far as the eye could reach. While quietly puffing away, his attention was attracted by some animalsstanding at a distance off upon the plain. The brilliant colour of theirbodies had caught his eye. They were of a lively sienna colour over the back and sides, and whiteunderneath, with a list of black upon the outside of the legs, and someblack stripes upon the face, as regularly defined as if laid on by thebrush of a painter. They had horns of very irregular shape, roughlyknotted--each curved into something of the shape of a reaping-hook, andrising directly from the top of one of the straightest and longest headsever carried by an animal. These animals were far from being gracefullyformed. They had drooping hind-quarters like the giraffe, though in amuch less degree, shoulders greatly elevated, and long narrow heads. Forthe rest their forms were bony and angular. Each stood five feet high, from the fore-hoof to the shoulder, and full nine feet in length. They were antelopes of course--that species known among Cape colonistsas the "hartebeest. " There were in all about fifty of them in the herd. When first observed by Von Bloom, they were quietly browsing upon theplain. The next moment, however, they were seen to run to and fro, as ifsuddenly alarmed by the approach of an enemy. And an enemy there certainly was; for in a moment more the herd hadtaken to flight; and Von Bloom now saw that they were followed by a packof hounds! I say a "pack of hounds, " for the creatures in the distanceexactly resembled hounds more than anything in the world. Nay, more thanresembled, for it actually was a pack of hounds--of wild hounds! Of course Von Bloom knew what they were. He knew they were the"wilde-honden, " very absurdly named by sapient naturalists _Hyenavenatica_ or "hunting hyena, " and by others, with equal absurdity the"hunting dog. " I pronounce these names "absurd, " first because theanimal in question bears no more resemblance to a hyena than it does toa hedgehog; and, secondly, because "hunting dog" is a very ridiculousappellation, since any dog may merit a similar title. Now I would ask, why could these naturalists not let the nomenclature ofthe boers alone? If a better name than "wilde-honden" (wild hounds) canbe given to these animals, I should like to hear it. Why, it is the veryperfection of a name, and exactly expresses the character of the animalto which they apply it--that character, which coming under theireveryday observation, suggested the name. It is quite a libel to call this beautiful creature a hyena. He hasneither the ugly form, the harsh pelage, the dull colour, nor the filthyhabits of one. Call him a "wolf, " or "wild dog, " if you please, but heis at the same time the handsomest wolf or wild dog in creation. But weshall name him, as the boers have done, a "wild hound. " That is his truetitle, let naturalists class him as they may. His size, shape, his smooth clean coat, as well as his colour, approximate him more to the hound than to any other animal. In thelast--which is a ground of "tan" blotched and mottled with large spotsof black and grey--he bears a striking resemblance to the common hound;and the superior size of his ears would seem to assimilate him stillmore to this animal. The ears, however, as in all the wild species of_Canis_, are of course not hanging, but erect. His habits, however, crown the resemblance. In his natural state thewild hound never prowls alone; but boldly runs down his game, followingit in large organised packs, just as hounds do; and in his hunting heexhibits as much skill as if he had Tom Moody riding at his heels, toguide with whip and horn. It was the field-cornet's good fortune to witness an exhibition of thisskill. The hounds had come unexpectedly upon the hartebeest herd; and almost atthe first dash, one of the antelopes became separated from the rest, andran in an opposite direction. This was just what the cunning dogswanted; and the whole pack, instead of following the herd, turned afterthe single one, and ran "tail on end. " Now this hartebeest, although an ill-shaped antelope, is one of the veryswiftest of the tribe; and the wild hound does not capture it without asevere chase. In fact, he could not capture it at all, if speed were theonly point between the two animals. But it is not. The hartebeest has aweakness in its character, opposite to which the wild hound possesses acunning. The former when chased, although it runs in a straight line, does notkeep long in a direct course. Now and then it diverges to one side orthe other, led perhaps by the form of the ground, or some othercircumstance. In this habit lies its weakness. The wild hound is wellaware of it, and takes advantage of it by a manoeuvre, which certainlysavours strongly of reflection on his part. Our field-cornet had a proof of this as he watched the chase. Hiselevated position gave him a view of the whole ground, and he could noteevery movement both of pursuer and pursued. On breaking off, the hartebeest ran in a right line, and the houndsfollowed straight after. They had not gone far, however, when Von Bloomperceived that one hound was forging ahead of the rest, and running muchfaster than any of them. He might have been a swifter dog than theothers, but the hunter did not think it was that. He appeared rather tobe running harder that they, as if sent forward to push the hartebeest, while the rest saved their wind. This proved to be really the case; for the dog, by a desperate effort, having gained upon the antelope, caused the latter to turn slightly fromit original course; and the pack, perceiving this, changed theirdirection at the same time, and held along a diagonal line, as if tohead the game. By this means they avoided the détour which both theantelope and their companion had made. The hartebeest was now running upon a new line; and as before, one ofthe hounds was soon seen to head the pack, and press forward at the topof his speed. The one that first led, as soon as the antelope turnedfrom its original course, fell back, rejoined the pack, and was nowlagging among the hindmost! His "turn" of duty was over. Again the hartebeest verged from its course. Again the pack ranobliquely, and made a second "cut" upon him--again a fresh dog took thelead, and on swept the chase as before--the wild hounds uttering theiryelping notes as they ran. Several times was this manoeuvre executed by the cunning dogs--until thedesired result was accomplished, and the antelope was completely"blown. " Then, as if they felt that it was in their power, and that furtherstrategy was not needed, the whole pack rushed forward simultaneously, and closed rapidly upon the game. The hartebeest made one last despairing effort to escape, but, findingthat speed would no longer avail, the creature wheeled suddenly round, and placed itself in an attitude of defiance--the foam falling from itslips, while its red eyes sparkled like coals of fire. In another moment the dogs were around it. "What a splendid pack!" exclaimed Von Bloom. "Oh! that I had such anone! "Ha!" he continued, as a new thought struck him, "and why not, just suchan one?--why not?" Now the train of reflections that passed through the mind of thefield-cornet was as follows:-- That the wild hounds might be tamed, and trained to hunting, --easiest ofall, to the chase of the elephant. He knew that this could be done, forboer-hunters had often done it. True, the dogs must be taken young, butwhere were young ones to be obtained? It is not so easy to capture thepups of the wild hound. Until they are able to run well, their mothersdo not permit them to stray far from the caves in which they arelittered; and these are usually crevices among rocks quite inaccessibleto man. How could he obtain a set of them? He had already formed such anintention. Where could be their breeding place? His reflections were interrupted at this point, by very singularbehaviour on the part of the wild hounds, and which gave him a new ideaof their intelligence that quite electrified him. When the hartebeest stood to bay, and the hounds came up, Von Bloom verynaturally expected to see the latter run in upon their game, and at oncepull it to the ground. This he knew was their usual habit. What was hisastonishment at seeing the whole pack standing off to one side, as ifthey intended to leave the antelope alone! Some of them even lay down torest themselves, while the others stood with open jaws and lollingtongues, but without showing any signs that they intended further tomolest the panting quarry! The field-cornet could observe the situation well, for the antelope wason his side--that is, towards the cliffs--while the dogs were fartherout upon the plain. Another circumstance that astonished him was, thatthe dogs, after running up and around the hartebeest, had actually drawnoff to their present position! What could it mean? Were they afraid of its ugly horns? Were theyresting themselves before they should make their bloody onslaught! The hunter kept his gaze intently fixed upon the interesting group. After a while the antelope, having recovered its wind a little, andseeing the pack so distant, made a fresh start. This time it ran in a side direction, apparently with the intention ofgaining a hill that lay in that way, and up the sides of which it nodoubt calculated upon gaining some advantage. But the creature hadhardly stretched itself, when the hounds struck out after it; and infive hundred yards running, once more brought it to a stand. Again thepack took station at a distance, and the hartebeest stood upon the plainalone! Once more it essayed to escape, and started off with all the speed thatwas left in its legs--the hounds as before trooping after. This time the antelope headed in a new direction, making for a point inthe cliffs; and as the chase now passed very near to the nwana-tree, everybody had a fine view of it. The hartebeest seemed to be going faster than ever, or, at all events, the dogs did not now appear to gain upon it; and the field-cornet, aswell as all the young people, were in hopes the poor creature wouldescape from its tireless pursuers. They watched the chase, until they could just see the bright body of thehartebeest afar off, appearing like a yellow spot upon the face of therocks, but the dogs were no longer visible. Then the yellow spotsuddenly disappeared like the going out of a candle, and they could seeit no more. No doubt the antelope was pulled down! A strange suspicion entered the mind of Von Bloom, and, calling uponthem to saddle the quaggas, he, with Hans and Hendrik, rode off towardsthe place where the hartebeests had been last seen. They approached the ground with caution; and under the shelter of somebushes were enabled to get within two hundred yards of the spot withoutbeing observed. A singular spectacle rewarded their pains. Within a dozen yards of the cliff lay the body of the hartebeest, whereit had been "pulled down" by the dogs. It was already half eaten, not bythe hounds that had hunted it, but by their puppies of all ages, that tothe number of more than threescore were now standing around the carcass, tugging away at its flesh and snarling at one another! Some of the growndogs that had taken part in the chase could be seen lying upon theground, still panting after their hard run; but most of them haddisappeared, no doubt into the numerous small caves and crevices thatopened along the bottom of the cliffs. There was no room left to doubt the singular fact--that the wild houndshad regularly driven the hartebeest up to their breeding-place to feedtheir young, and that they had abstained from killing it out upon theplain to save themselves the labour of dragging it from a distance! Indeed these animals--unlike the _Felidĉ_--have not the power oftransporting a large mass to any considerable distance; hence thewonderful instinct which led them to guide the antelope to the very spotwhere its flesh was wanted! That they were in the constant practice of this singular habit wasattested, by the numerous bones and horns of large antelopes ofdifferent kinds, that lay strewed around the place. Von Bloom had his eye upon the young puppies, and all three made a rushtowards them. But it was to no purpose. Cunning as their fathers andmothers, the little fellows forsook their meal at first sight of theintruders, and darted off into their caves! But they were not cunning enough to escape the snares, which were laidfor them every day for a week after; and, before the end of that time, more than a dozen of them were safely domiciled in a little kennel builtespecially for their use, under the shadow of the great nwana-tree. In less that six months from that time, several of them were in thefield, and trained to the chase of the elephant, which duty theyperformed with all the courage and skill that could have been shown byhounds of the purest breed! CHAPTER XLVI. CONCLUSION. For several years Von Bloom led the life of an elephant-hunter. Forseveral years the great nwana-tree was his home, and his only companionshis children and domestics. But, perhaps, these were not the least happyyears of his existence, since, during all the time both he and hisfamily had enjoyed the most estimable of earthly blessings, --health. He had not allowed his children to grow up without instruction. He hadnot permitted them to lapse into the character of mere "Bush-boys. " Hehad taught them many things from the book of nature, --many arts that canbe acquired as well on the karoo as in the college. He had taught themto love God, and to love one another. He had planted in their minds theseeds of the virtuous principles, --honour and morality, --without whichall education is worthless. He had imbued them with habits of industryand self-reliance, and had initiated them into many of theaccomplishments of civilised life--so that upon their return to societythey might be quite equal to its claims. Upon the whole, those years ofthe exile's life, spent in his wilderness home, formed no blank in hisexistence. He might look back upon them with feelings of satisfactionand pleasure. Man, however, is formed for society. The human heart, properlyorganised, seeks communion with the human heart; and the mind, especially when refined and polished by education, loves the intercourseof social life, and, when deprived of it, will always yearn to obtainit. So was it with the field-cornet. He desired to return once more withinthe pale of civilised society. He desired once more to revisit thescenes where he had so long dwelt in peaceful happiness; he desired oncemore to establish himself among his friends and acquaintances of formerdays, in the picturesque district in the Graaf Reinet. Indeed, to haveremained any longer in his wilderness home could have served no purpose. It is true he had grown very much attached to his wild hunter-life, butit was no longer likely to be profitable. The elephants had completelyforsaken the neighbourhood of the camp, and not one was to be foundwithin twenty miles of the spot. They had become well-acquainted withthe report of the long roer, and knew the dangerous character of thatweapon; they had learnt that of all their enemies man was the one to beespecially dreaded and shunned; and they had grown so shy of hispresence, that the hunters frequently passed whole weeks without settingtheir eyes upon a single elephant. But this was no longer an object of solicitude with Von Bloom. Otherconsiderations now occupied his mind, and he did not care much if heshould never spoor another of these huge quadrupeds. To return to theGraaf Reinet, and settle there, was now the ultimatum of his wishes. The time had at length arrived when he would be able to carry out thatdesign; and nothing seemed any longer to stand in the way of its fulland complete accomplishment. The proscription against him had been long since taken off. A generalamnesty had been passed by the government, and he had been pardonedamong the rest. It is true his property was not restored to him; but that matteredlittle now. He had created a new property, as was testified by the vastpyramid of ivory that stood under the shadow of the great nwana-tree! Nothing remained but to transport this shining pile to a market, and asplendid fortune would be the result. And Von Bloom's ingenuity found the means for bringing it to market. About this time there was dug another huge pit-trap near the pass in thecliffs, in which many quaggas were trapped; and then, there werestirring scenes, while these wild creatures were being broken toharness, and trained to "trek" in a wagon. They were trained, however, after a good deal of trouble--the oldwheels, still in prime condition, serving as the "break;" and then thebody of the wagon was let down from the tree, and once more renewed itsacquaintance with its old companions the wheels; and the cap-tentspread its protecting shadow over all; and the white and yellowcrescents were stowed; and the quaggas were "inspanned;" and Swartboy, mounting the "voor-kist, " once more cracked his long bamboo whip; andthe wheels, well oiled with elephants' grease, again whirled gailyalong! How surprised were the good people of Graaf Beinet, when one morning acap-tent wagon, drawn by twelve quaggas, and followed by four ridersmounted upon animals of the same kind, pulled up in the public square oftheir little town! How astonished they were on seeing that this wagonwas "chuck" full of elephants' teeth, all except a little corneroccupied by a beautiful girl with cherry cheeks and fair flaxen hair;and how joyed were they, in fine, on learning that the owner of both theivory and the beautiful girl was no other than their old friend, andmuch-esteemed fellow-citizen, the field-cornet, Von Bloom! A warm welcome met the elephant-hunter in the square of Graaf Reinet, and, what was also of some importance, a ready market for his ivory. It chanced just at that time that ivory was selling at a very high rate. Some article--I do not remember what--the principal part of whichrequired to be constructed of pure ivory, had come into fashion andgeneral use in European countries, and the consequence was an increaseddemand for this valuable commodity. It was a fortunate circumstance forthe returned hunter, who was at once enabled to dispose of his stock, not only for ready money, but at such a fine price as to yield himnearly twice the amount he had calculated on receiving! He had not brought it all with him, as there was more than would haveloaded any one wagon. A second load had remained, hidden near thenwana-tree, and this required a journey to be made for it. It was made in due time, and the remainder arrived safely at GraafReinet, and was there delivered to the ivory-dealers, who had alreadypurchased it. The result was a splendid fortune in ready money. The field-cornet wasonce more a rich man! For the present we can follow his history no farther than to say, thatthe proceeds of his great hunt enabled him to buy back his old estate, and to stock it in splendid style, with the best breeds of horses, horned cattle, and sheep; that he rose rapidly in wealth and worldlyesteem; that the government gave him its confidence; and, having firstrestored him to his old office of field-cornet, soon afterwards promotedhim to that of "landdrost, " or chief magistrate of the district. Hans returned to his college studies; while the dashing Hendrik wasenabled to enter the profession for which he was most fit, and the veryone that fitted him, by obtaining a cornetcy in the "Cape MountedRifles. " Little Jan was packed off to school to study grammar and geography;while the beautiful Trüey remained at home to grace the mansion of herhonoured father, and look after his household affairs. Totty still ruled the kitchen; and, of course, Swartboy was theimportant man about the house, and for many a long year after crackedhis great whip, and flourished his jambok among the long-horned oxen ofthe wealthy landdrost. But enough for the present, --enough of adventure for one year. Let ushope, boy readers, that before you and I have circled once more aroundthe sun, we shall make a fresh trip to the land of the boers, and againencounter the worthy Von Bloom, his Bushman, and-- "BUSH-BOYS. " THE END.