vary the monotony of camp cooking, regaled me on an omelette aux points d'asperge, entre côte à la bordelaise, and mayonnaise of chicken. He is a wonderful cook, and these delicacies were prepared under his supervision. When I rode back, alone, the vultures had given place to fifteen hawks, some of which were inside the carcase. We shifted camp to this place on the 11th, and again my preserved eatables proved most useful. I was told there was a wolf in the neighbourhood, and the fowls all took the precaution of roosting at the top of a big tree, under which is our rancho, used for cooking. At eleven o'clock I was awakened by the two dogs barking, and a few moments after there was a terrific yell from Vicente, whose tent is some dozen feet from mine: “O lobo esta na minha barraca" ("The wolf is in my tent"). I jumped up, seized my gun, and rushed out; but he was off. His wet footmarks were plain on the side of the tent where he had tried to get in. Calling to some of the men to follow, I went off to see whether I could find any trace of him, but returned in about a quarter of an hour, having seen nothing. The men were all crouching round the dying embers of the fire, and told me it was very dangerous to go alone after the wolf. I said that was their fault for not accompanying Next night he came again at seven o'clock, and we went after him; but he disappeared, and we have not seen him since.* I suspect that he came after the fowls. me. September 12.-This has been my worst day of carrapatos. On returning from the work I removed, or had taken off Captain R. F. Burton mentions it as the Guára wolf (Canis Mexicanus) of Cuvier. He says, "I have seen closely but a single specimen, which much resembled the French wolf, except that the coat was redder. This carnivor especially favours the lands where forest and prairie meet or mix. I have never heard of it attacking man; but, on the other hand, there are make it ravenous."-"Highlands of Brazil," vol. ii. p. 54. no snows to me, 279, and during the night I got rid of thirty-five more. I had been too tired to sponge with diluted carbolic acid; but, as a rule, by taking proper precautions I never have to pick off more than fifty from my body, though my flannel shirt is always red in patches, with masses of the wretches round the waist and under the arms. September 13.-I went off after a toucan before breakfast, but could not get within shot. The position of this camp is far wilder than the other; it is on a rapidly sloping grass-covered down or campo, which forms one side of a little cul-de-sac valley, extending to the Rio Camapuão. There is a stream which flows from a spring just below the camp, and across the stream a dense forest, whence proceed the chatter of monkeys, the screech of parrots, and harsh, discordant caw-caw of the toucan; we also hear the soft note of ciriema, and many other birds. Parrot flesh is now added to our larder. Vicente found three nests of different species of honey bees in the trunks of trees to-day; the honey was delicious, and smelt like new-mown hay. September 14-At four o'clock this morning we had another exciting visitor; this time it was an onça, or ounce, supposed to be more dangerous and braver than the lobo, or wolf. He, alas! also got away before I could see him; but one of the men told me he was the 'onça sussuarána." There is another species found in the neighbourhood, the "onça pintada.” Captain Burton says, "Doubtless in the early days of colonization, when hese large cats knew nothing of the gun, they were dangerous enough; at present their courage seems to have cooled, and the Matador d'Onçastueur d'onces--once so celebrated in Brazil, finds his occupation gone. Many travellers have seen nothing of this king of cats, except the places where it sharpens its claws. I have had experience of one live specimen, and that, too, by night. The people still fear them, especially at night, and have many The temperature in this camp at night is 10° Fahr. warmer than at my last camp, and the minimum has not gone below 48° Fahr.; the locality is not much lower, but being on the north side of the divide it is sheltered from the cold south winds. traditional tales of their misdeeds. They are still very dangerous to dogs, monkeys after which they climb, to the capyvara an especial favourite, and to the young of black cattle." ( 89 ) Manchester CHAPTER VI. SPRING-TIME AND BEGINNING OF THE RAINY SEASON. September 29, 1883.—I have been told for some time that the rains would begin on September 15, and with marvellous punctuality during the grey dawn of that morning down came the first showers. The minimum that night was 56°. The day was a mixture of English spring and autumn. By 3.30 in the afternoon, the rain was so heavy that I was compelled to give up work. What do you think becomes of all the stamps off your letters and newspapers? They go to a Mission in China, in which Vicente is interested. As you know, the people there leave their children very often to die in the streets. The priests buy the children from their parents, for one hundred old stamps of any kind, which the people value as curiosities. So in time you may furnish enough to buy a child. The other day I had one potato brought me as a present, the first since I left Rio in July; so I prized it very much, cut it up and fried it myself. Vicente killed a lizard, called "papavento" (ie. windeater), which is supposed to be dangerous. I bottled it in spirits. We also found some more honey-nests. The bees, which are very small and yellow, are called “jatahy" (an Indian name); they fill up the entrance to their nest with resin (which is very pure, and is used for violins) at the beginning of the winter, when they shut themselves up and eat the honey. The resin is to prevent woodpeckers and other birds getting into the nest. I am now cutting my way through mata virgem, or virgin forest, a mere trifle compared with those on the coast and nearer the equator, but still beautiful. Our chief, however, is never tired of speaking of the really grand and immense forests of Spanish Honduras, which, he says, is the most splendid place in the world. But I will briefly describe my woods. Last night (September 26) we arrived at the banks of the Rio Camapuão, and we shall go along this valley until we nearly reach Brumado. The stream which we have been following from the divide, during its passage through an increasingly narrowing gorge with steep forest-covered sides, at length reaches a fine cascade, the water falling some sixty feet over the bare rocks into a clear, deep pool at their base. The stream then enters the valley of the Camapuão, and shortly empties itself into that river; the valley at that part is broad, flat, and marshy, with a few scattered patches of capoeira and shrubs. I crossed the Camapuão at a point where its broad valley narrows into a gorge. The river there is some fifty feet wide, and shallow, with an even and gentle fall. On one side is a steep bank some thirty feet high, covered with forest, beyond which is campo, or grass down; and on the other side, a broad belt of bamboo jungle, covered with water in the flood season. Beyond this jungle rises a hill some five or six hundred feet high, hidden in virgin forest, from which are heard the distant chatter of monkeys, the melancholy caw-caw of toucans, and the singing of a thousand birds. The river-bank is fringed with trees, some of which |