Chapter Thirty Three.

Chapter Thirty Three.Scylla and Charybdis.Their retreat upward upon the slanting limbs of the tree had brought a large band of their assailants round to that side; and, just as they raised their triumphant cry, they saw the peccaries dancing among the branches that lay extended along the sand-bar. Many of these were hidden by the flakes of hanging grass already mentioned; but another fearful creature chanced to have been hidden there also; who now displayed himself in all his shining majesty—not only to the eyes of the besieged, but likewise to those of the besiegers. The creature was a quadruped—one of fearful mien, and dimensions far exceeding that of the Lilliputian peccaries. It was their natural enemy—the jaguar!Whether it was the shout that had startled him, or the peccaries had trodden him out of his lair, or both, certain it was that he now sprang suddenly out, and with one bound launched himself upon the log. For a moment he stood cowering on its top, turning his eyes first upon the branches where the boys had taken refuge, and then in the opposite direction, towards the woods. He seemed irresolute as to which course he would take; and this irresolution, so long as it lasted, produced an unpleasant effect upon our young hunters. Should the jaguar also attack them, their destruction might be accounted as certain; for the great cat would either strike them down from their unstable porch, or claw them to death if they continued to cling to it. Of course, to fall down among the peccaries would be death, equally certain and terrible.By good fortune, however, the jaguar at the moment of showing himself was eagerly assailed by the wild pigs; and it was to escape from their assault, that he had sprung upward to the log. Thither the peccaries had pursued him, and were now endeavouring to reach the top of the dead-wood, just as they had done while after the hunters. The jaguar no longer stood silent and irresolute; but, uttering loud screams, he commenced defending himself against the assailing host, striking them with his broad ungulated paws, and flinging one after another back to the ground, where they lay kicking in the throes of death.Perhaps it was the presence of mind exhibited by Alexis that brought matters to a climax, and saved the lives of himself and his brother. His rifle was still loaded—for it had appeared useless firing into the midst of two hundred assailants. He knew he could kill only one or two; and this, instead of frightening them off, would but render the others more implacable in their resentment. Partly for this reason, and partly that he had all along held the piece “clubbed” in his hands, he had reserved his fire. Now was the time to deliver it. The jaguar was even more to be dreaded than thepeccaries—for they were now secure from the attacks of the latter, whereas they were not only within reach of the former, but in the very place to which the brute might fancy retreating. To prevent this contingency, Alexis resolved to give the jaguar his bullet.It was but a moment’s work to turn the gun in his hand and take aim. The crack followed quickly; and, on the instant, the hunters had the gratification to see the great tawny quadruped spring out from the log, and alight upon the sand—where, in a second’s time, he was surrounded by the dark drove, that from all sides rushed screaming towards him.It was a bit of good fortune that the bullet of Alexis had only wounded the jaguar, instead of killing him on the spot. Had he been shot dead, the peccaries would have torn his beautiful skin to ribbons, and reduced his quivering flesh to mincemeat, and that within the space of a score of seconds; but luckily it chanced that the jaguar was only wounded—had only received a broken leg; and, availing himself of the three that remained sound, he commenced retreating towards the timber. Thither he was followed by his thick-skinned assailants; who, transferring their spite to this new enemy, seemed to forget all about their original adversaries, who remained quietly perched upon the limbs of the tree!For some time nothing could be seen but a confused crowd, writhing over the sand—a dark mass, in the midst of which now and then a bright yellow object appeared conspicuous, and was then for a time out of sight; and thus, like a rolling wave, the great drove went surging on, amidst grunting and screaming, and growling, and chattering of teeth, till it swept up to the edge of the underwood, and then suddenly disappeared from the eyes of the spectators!Whether the peccaries eventually succeeded in destroying the jaguar, or whether the wounded tyrant of the forest escaped from their terrible teeth, could never be told. Our young hunters had no curiosity to follow and witness thedénouementof this strange encounter. Neither cared they to take up the bodies of the slain. Ivan was completely cured of anypenchanthe might have had for peccary pork; and, as soon as their late assailants were fairly out of sight, both leaped down from the limbs of the tree, and made all haste towards the boat. This they reached without further molestation; and the canoe-men, rapidly plying their paddles, soon shot the craft out upon the bosom of the broad river—where they were safe from the attack either of wild pigs or wild cats.It was likely the jaguar betook himself to a tree—his usual mode of escape when surrounded by a herd of infuriated peccaries—and, as a proof that he had done so, our travellers could hear the wild hogs still uttering their fierce grunts long after the boat had rounded the sand-spit, and was passing up the bend of the river.

Their retreat upward upon the slanting limbs of the tree had brought a large band of their assailants round to that side; and, just as they raised their triumphant cry, they saw the peccaries dancing among the branches that lay extended along the sand-bar. Many of these were hidden by the flakes of hanging grass already mentioned; but another fearful creature chanced to have been hidden there also; who now displayed himself in all his shining majesty—not only to the eyes of the besieged, but likewise to those of the besiegers. The creature was a quadruped—one of fearful mien, and dimensions far exceeding that of the Lilliputian peccaries. It was their natural enemy—the jaguar!

Whether it was the shout that had startled him, or the peccaries had trodden him out of his lair, or both, certain it was that he now sprang suddenly out, and with one bound launched himself upon the log. For a moment he stood cowering on its top, turning his eyes first upon the branches where the boys had taken refuge, and then in the opposite direction, towards the woods. He seemed irresolute as to which course he would take; and this irresolution, so long as it lasted, produced an unpleasant effect upon our young hunters. Should the jaguar also attack them, their destruction might be accounted as certain; for the great cat would either strike them down from their unstable porch, or claw them to death if they continued to cling to it. Of course, to fall down among the peccaries would be death, equally certain and terrible.

By good fortune, however, the jaguar at the moment of showing himself was eagerly assailed by the wild pigs; and it was to escape from their assault, that he had sprung upward to the log. Thither the peccaries had pursued him, and were now endeavouring to reach the top of the dead-wood, just as they had done while after the hunters. The jaguar no longer stood silent and irresolute; but, uttering loud screams, he commenced defending himself against the assailing host, striking them with his broad ungulated paws, and flinging one after another back to the ground, where they lay kicking in the throes of death.

Perhaps it was the presence of mind exhibited by Alexis that brought matters to a climax, and saved the lives of himself and his brother. His rifle was still loaded—for it had appeared useless firing into the midst of two hundred assailants. He knew he could kill only one or two; and this, instead of frightening them off, would but render the others more implacable in their resentment. Partly for this reason, and partly that he had all along held the piece “clubbed” in his hands, he had reserved his fire. Now was the time to deliver it. The jaguar was even more to be dreaded than thepeccaries—for they were now secure from the attacks of the latter, whereas they were not only within reach of the former, but in the very place to which the brute might fancy retreating. To prevent this contingency, Alexis resolved to give the jaguar his bullet.

It was but a moment’s work to turn the gun in his hand and take aim. The crack followed quickly; and, on the instant, the hunters had the gratification to see the great tawny quadruped spring out from the log, and alight upon the sand—where, in a second’s time, he was surrounded by the dark drove, that from all sides rushed screaming towards him.

It was a bit of good fortune that the bullet of Alexis had only wounded the jaguar, instead of killing him on the spot. Had he been shot dead, the peccaries would have torn his beautiful skin to ribbons, and reduced his quivering flesh to mincemeat, and that within the space of a score of seconds; but luckily it chanced that the jaguar was only wounded—had only received a broken leg; and, availing himself of the three that remained sound, he commenced retreating towards the timber. Thither he was followed by his thick-skinned assailants; who, transferring their spite to this new enemy, seemed to forget all about their original adversaries, who remained quietly perched upon the limbs of the tree!

For some time nothing could be seen but a confused crowd, writhing over the sand—a dark mass, in the midst of which now and then a bright yellow object appeared conspicuous, and was then for a time out of sight; and thus, like a rolling wave, the great drove went surging on, amidst grunting and screaming, and growling, and chattering of teeth, till it swept up to the edge of the underwood, and then suddenly disappeared from the eyes of the spectators!

Whether the peccaries eventually succeeded in destroying the jaguar, or whether the wounded tyrant of the forest escaped from their terrible teeth, could never be told. Our young hunters had no curiosity to follow and witness thedénouementof this strange encounter. Neither cared they to take up the bodies of the slain. Ivan was completely cured of anypenchanthe might have had for peccary pork; and, as soon as their late assailants were fairly out of sight, both leaped down from the limbs of the tree, and made all haste towards the boat. This they reached without further molestation; and the canoe-men, rapidly plying their paddles, soon shot the craft out upon the bosom of the broad river—where they were safe from the attack either of wild pigs or wild cats.

It was likely the jaguar betook himself to a tree—his usual mode of escape when surrounded by a herd of infuriated peccaries—and, as a proof that he had done so, our travellers could hear the wild hogs still uttering their fierce grunts long after the boat had rounded the sand-spit, and was passing up the bend of the river.

Chapter Thirty Four.The Old Missions.Passing many scenes of interest, and meeting with several other strange incidents, our travellers at length arrived at Archidona—a small town at the head of boat navigation upon the Napo, and the usual port of embarkation for persons proceeding from the country around Quito to the regions upon the Amazon. Up to this place they had been journeying through a complete wilderness—the only exceptions being some missionary stations, in each of which a monkish priest holds a sort of control over two or three hundred half christianised Indians. It would be absurd to call these missions civilised settlements: since they are in no degree more advanced, either in civilisation or prosperity, than themaloccas, or villages of the wild Indians—the “infidels,” as it pleases the monks to call those tribes who have not submitted to their puerile teachings. Whatever difference exists between the two kinds of Indians, is decidedly in favour of the unconverted tribes, who display at least the virtues of valour and a love of liberty, while the poor neophytes of the missions have suffered a positive debasement, by their conversion to this so called “Christian religion.” All these monkish settlements—not only on the Napo, but on the other tributaries of the Amazon—were at one time in a state of considerable prosperity. The missionary padres, backed by a little soldier help from the Spanish Government, were more able to control their Indian converts, and compel them to work—so that a certain amount of prosperity was visible in the mission settlements, and some of them had even attained to a degree of wealth. This, however, was but an apparent civilisation; and its benefits only extended to the monks themselves. The Indian neophytes were in no way bettered by the wealth they created. Their condition was one of pure slavery—the monks being their masters, and very often hard taskmasters they proved themselves—living in fine conventual style upon the sweat and labour of their brown-skinned converts. The only return made by them to the Indians was to teach the latter those trades, by the practice of which they themselves might be benefited, and that was their sole motive for civilising them. On the other hand, instead of endeavouring to cultivate their intellectual nature, they strove in every way to restrain it—inculcating those doctrines of duty and obedience, so popular among the priests and princes of the world. They taught them a religion of the lips, and not of the heart—a religion of mere idle ceremonies, of the most showy kind; and above all a religion, whose every observance required to be paid for by toll and tithe. In this manner they continued to filch from the poor aboriginal every hour of his work—and keep him to all intents and purposes an abject slave. No wonder, that when the Spanish power declined, and the soldier could no longer be spared to secure the authority of the priest—no wonder that the whole system gave way, and the missions of Spanish America—from California to the Patagonian plains—sank into decay. Hundreds of these establishments have been altogether abandoned—their pseudo converts having returned once more to the savage state—and the ruins of convents and churches alone remain to attest that they ever existed. Those still in existence exhibit the mere remnants of their former prosperity, and are only kept together by the exertions of the monks themselves—backed by a slight thread of authority, which they derive from the superstitions they have been able to inculcate. In fact, in the missions now existing, the monks have no other power than that which they wield through the terrors of the Church; and in most cases, thesepadresconstitute a sort of hierarch chieftaincy, which has supplanted the old system of thecuracas, or caciques.At one period the missions of the Napo were both numerous and powerful. That was while they were under the superintendence of those active apostles, the Jesuit fathers; but most of their settlements have long ago disappeared; and now only a few sparse stations exist along the borders of the greatMontaña.In ascending the Napo, our travellers had an opportunity of visiting some of these old missionary establishments; and observing the odd rigmarole of superstitions there practised under the guise, and in the name of religion—a queer commingling of pagan rites with Christian ceremonies—not unlike those Buddhistic forms from which these same ceremonies have been borrowed.One advantage our travellers derived from the existence of these stations: they were enabled to obtain from them the provisions required upon their long riverine voyage; and without this assistance they would have found it much more difficult to accomplish such a journey.Beyond Archidona the rest of the journey to Quito would have to be performed on horseback, or rather muleback; but they were not going direct to Quito. Between them and the old Peruvian capital lay the eastern Cordillera of the Andes, and it was along its declivities, and in the valleys between its transverse spurs, facing the Montaña, they would have to search for the haunts of the bear.On the Napo itself, still higher up than Archidona—where the stream, fed by the snows of the grand volcano of Cotopaxi, issues from the spurs of the Andes—there were they most likely to accomplish the object of their expedition, and thither determined they to go.Having procured mules and a guide, they proceeded onward; and after a journey of three days—in which, from the difficulty of the roads, they had travelled less than fifty miles—they found themselves among the foot-hills of the Andes—the giant Cotopaxi with his snowy cone towering stupendous above their heads.Here they were in the proper range of the bears—a part of the country famous for the great numbers of these animals—and it only remained for them to fix their headquarters in some village, and make arrangements for prosecuting the chase.The little town of Napo, called after the river, and situated as it is in the midst of a forest wilderness, offered all the advantages they required; and, choosing it as their temporary residence, they were soon engaged in searching for the black bear of the Cordilleras.

Passing many scenes of interest, and meeting with several other strange incidents, our travellers at length arrived at Archidona—a small town at the head of boat navigation upon the Napo, and the usual port of embarkation for persons proceeding from the country around Quito to the regions upon the Amazon. Up to this place they had been journeying through a complete wilderness—the only exceptions being some missionary stations, in each of which a monkish priest holds a sort of control over two or three hundred half christianised Indians. It would be absurd to call these missions civilised settlements: since they are in no degree more advanced, either in civilisation or prosperity, than themaloccas, or villages of the wild Indians—the “infidels,” as it pleases the monks to call those tribes who have not submitted to their puerile teachings. Whatever difference exists between the two kinds of Indians, is decidedly in favour of the unconverted tribes, who display at least the virtues of valour and a love of liberty, while the poor neophytes of the missions have suffered a positive debasement, by their conversion to this so called “Christian religion.” All these monkish settlements—not only on the Napo, but on the other tributaries of the Amazon—were at one time in a state of considerable prosperity. The missionary padres, backed by a little soldier help from the Spanish Government, were more able to control their Indian converts, and compel them to work—so that a certain amount of prosperity was visible in the mission settlements, and some of them had even attained to a degree of wealth. This, however, was but an apparent civilisation; and its benefits only extended to the monks themselves. The Indian neophytes were in no way bettered by the wealth they created. Their condition was one of pure slavery—the monks being their masters, and very often hard taskmasters they proved themselves—living in fine conventual style upon the sweat and labour of their brown-skinned converts. The only return made by them to the Indians was to teach the latter those trades, by the practice of which they themselves might be benefited, and that was their sole motive for civilising them. On the other hand, instead of endeavouring to cultivate their intellectual nature, they strove in every way to restrain it—inculcating those doctrines of duty and obedience, so popular among the priests and princes of the world. They taught them a religion of the lips, and not of the heart—a religion of mere idle ceremonies, of the most showy kind; and above all a religion, whose every observance required to be paid for by toll and tithe. In this manner they continued to filch from the poor aboriginal every hour of his work—and keep him to all intents and purposes an abject slave. No wonder, that when the Spanish power declined, and the soldier could no longer be spared to secure the authority of the priest—no wonder that the whole system gave way, and the missions of Spanish America—from California to the Patagonian plains—sank into decay. Hundreds of these establishments have been altogether abandoned—their pseudo converts having returned once more to the savage state—and the ruins of convents and churches alone remain to attest that they ever existed. Those still in existence exhibit the mere remnants of their former prosperity, and are only kept together by the exertions of the monks themselves—backed by a slight thread of authority, which they derive from the superstitions they have been able to inculcate. In fact, in the missions now existing, the monks have no other power than that which they wield through the terrors of the Church; and in most cases, thesepadresconstitute a sort of hierarch chieftaincy, which has supplanted the old system of thecuracas, or caciques.

At one period the missions of the Napo were both numerous and powerful. That was while they were under the superintendence of those active apostles, the Jesuit fathers; but most of their settlements have long ago disappeared; and now only a few sparse stations exist along the borders of the greatMontaña.

In ascending the Napo, our travellers had an opportunity of visiting some of these old missionary establishments; and observing the odd rigmarole of superstitions there practised under the guise, and in the name of religion—a queer commingling of pagan rites with Christian ceremonies—not unlike those Buddhistic forms from which these same ceremonies have been borrowed.

One advantage our travellers derived from the existence of these stations: they were enabled to obtain from them the provisions required upon their long riverine voyage; and without this assistance they would have found it much more difficult to accomplish such a journey.

Beyond Archidona the rest of the journey to Quito would have to be performed on horseback, or rather muleback; but they were not going direct to Quito. Between them and the old Peruvian capital lay the eastern Cordillera of the Andes, and it was along its declivities, and in the valleys between its transverse spurs, facing the Montaña, they would have to search for the haunts of the bear.

On the Napo itself, still higher up than Archidona—where the stream, fed by the snows of the grand volcano of Cotopaxi, issues from the spurs of the Andes—there were they most likely to accomplish the object of their expedition, and thither determined they to go.

Having procured mules and a guide, they proceeded onward; and after a journey of three days—in which, from the difficulty of the roads, they had travelled less than fifty miles—they found themselves among the foot-hills of the Andes—the giant Cotopaxi with his snowy cone towering stupendous above their heads.

Here they were in the proper range of the bears—a part of the country famous for the great numbers of these animals—and it only remained for them to fix their headquarters in some village, and make arrangements for prosecuting the chase.

The little town of Napo, called after the river, and situated as it is in the midst of a forest wilderness, offered all the advantages they required; and, choosing it as their temporary residence, they were soon engaged in searching for the black bear of the Cordilleras.

Chapter Thirty Five.Eating a Negro’s Head.According to their usual practice, they had hired one of the native hunters of the district to act as a guide, and assist them in finding the haunts of Bruin. In Napo they were fortunate in meeting with the very man in the person of amestizo, or half-blood Indian, who followed hunting for his sole calling. He was what is termed a “tigrero,” or tiger-hunter—which title he derived from the fact that the jaguar was the principal object of his pursuit. Among all Spanish-Americans—Mexicans included—the beautiful spotted jaguar is erroneously termedtigre(tiger), as the puma or couguar is calledleon(lion). A hunter of the jaguar is therefore denominated a “tiger-hunter,” ortigrero.There are no puma or lion-hunters by profession—as there is nothing about this brute to make it worth while—but hunting the jaguar is, in many parts of Spanish America, a specific calling; and men make their living solely by following this occupation. One inducement is to obtain the skin, which, in common with those of the great spotted cats of the Old World, is an article of commerce, and from its superior beauty commands a good price. But thetigrerocould scarce make out to live upon the sale of the skins alone; for although a London furrier will charge from two to three guineas for a jaguar’s robe, the poor hunter in his remote wilderness market can obtain little more than a tenth part of this price—notwithstanding that he has to risk his life, before he can strip the fair mantle from the shoulders of its original wearer.It is evident, therefore, that jaguar-hunting would not pay, if there was only the pelt to depend upon; but thetigrerolooks to another source of profit—thebounty.In the hotter regions of Spanish America,—the Brazils as well—there are many settlements to which the jaguar is not only a pest, but a terror. Cattle in hundreds are destroyed by these great predatory animals; even full-grown horses are killed and dragged away by them! But is this all? Are the people themselves left unmolested? No. On the contrary, great numbers of human beings every year fall victims to the rapacity of the jaguars. Settlements attempted on the edge of the great Montaña—in the very country where our young hunters had now arrived—have, after a time, been abandoned from this cause alone. It is a well-known fact, that where a settlement has been formed, the jaguars soon become more plentiful in that neighbourhood: the increased facility of obtaining food—by preying on the cattle of the settlers, or upon the owners themselves—accounting for this augmentation in their numbers. It is precisely the same with the royal tiger of India, as is instanced in the history of the modern settlement of Singapore.To prevent the increase of the jaguars then, a bounty is offered for their destruction. This bounty is sometimes the gift of the government of the country, and sometimes of the municipal authorities of the district. Not unfrequently private individuals, who own large herds of cattle, give a bounty out of their private purses for every jaguar killed within the limits of their estates. Indeed, it is not an uncommon thing for the wealthy proprietor of a cattle-estate (hacienda de ganados) to maintain one or more “tigreros” in his service—just as gamekeepers are kept by European grandees—whose sole business consists in hunting and destroying the jaguar. These men are sometimes pure Indians, but, as a general thing, they are of the mixed, ormestizorace. It need hardly be said that they are hunters of the greatest courage. They require to be so: since an encounter with a full-grown jaguar is but little less dangerous than with his striped congener of the Indian jungles. In these conflicts, the tigreros often receive severe wounds from the teeth and claws of their terrible adversary; and, not unfrequently, the hunter himself becomes the victim.You may wonder that men are found to follow such a perilous calling, and with such slight inducement—for even the bounty is only a trifle of a dollar or two—differing in amount in different districts, and according to the liberality of the bestower. But it is in this matter as with all others of a like kind—where the very danger itself seems to be the lure.The tigrero usually depends upon fire-arms for destroying his noble game; but where his shot fails, and it is necessary to come to close quarters, he will even attack the jaguar with hismachete—a species of half-knife half-sword, to be found in every Spanish-American cottage from California to Chili.Very often the jaguar is hunted without the gun. The tigrero, in this case, arms himself with a short spear, the shaft of which is made of a strong hard wood, either aguaiacum, or a piece of the split trunk of one of the hardwood palms.The point of this spear is frequently without iron—only sharpened and hardened by being held in the fire—and with this in his left hand, and his short sword in the right, the hunter advances with confidence upon his formidable adversary. This confidence has been fortified by a contrivance which he has had the precaution to adopt—that is, of enveloping his left arm in the ample folds of his blanket—serape, roana, orponcho, according to the country to which he belongs—and using this as a shield.The left arm is held well forward, so that the woollen mass may cover his body against the bound of the animal, and thus is the attack received. The jaguar, like all feline quadrupeds, springs directly forward upon his prey. The tigrero prepared for this, and, with every nerve braced, receives the assailant upon the point of his short spear. Should the jaguar strike with its claws it only clutches the woollen cloth; and while tearing at this—which it believes to be the body of its intended victim—the right arm of the hunter is left free, and with the sharp blade of hismachetehe can either make cut or thrust at his pleasure. It is not always that the tigrero succeeds in destroying his enemy without receiving a scratch or two in return; but a daring hunter makes light of such wounds—for these scars become badges of distinction, and give himéclatamong the villages of the Montaña.Just such a man was the guide whom our young hunters had engaged, and who, though a tiger-hunter by profession, was equally expert at the capturing of a bear—when one of these animals chanced to stray down from the higher slopes of the mountains, into the warmer country frequented by the jaguars. It was not always that bears could be found in these lower regions; but there is a particular season of the year when the black bear (ursus frugilegus) descends far below his usual range, and even wanders far out into the forests of the Montaña.Of course there must be some inducement for his making this annual migration from his mountain home; for theursus frugilegus, though here dwelling within the tropics, does not affect a tropical climate. Neither is he a denizen of the very cold plains—theparamos—that extend among the summits of eternal snow. A medium temperature is his choice; and this, as we have already stated, he finds among the foot-hills, forming the lower zone of the Eastern Andes. It is there he spends most of his life, and that is his place of birth, and consequently his true home. At a particular season of the year, corresponding to the summer of our own country, he makes a roving expedition to the lower regions; and for what purpose? This was the very question which Alexis put to the tigrero. The answer was as curious as laconic:“Comer la cabeza del negro.” (To eat the negro’s head!)“Ha, ha! to eat the negro’s head!” repeated Ivan, with an incredulous laugh.“Just so, señorito!” rejoined the man; “that is what brings him down here.”“Why, the voracious brute!” said Ivan; “you don’t mean to say that he makes food of the heads of the poor negroes?”“Oh no!” replied the tigrero, smiling in his turn; “it is not that.”“What then?” impatiently inquired Ivan. “I’ve heard of negro-head tobacco. He’s not a tobacco chewer, is he?”“Carrambo! no, señorito,” replied the tiger-hunter, now laughing outright; “that’s not the sort of food the fellow is fond of. You’ll see it presently. By good luck, it’s just in season now—just as the bears fancy it—or else we needn’t look to start them here. We should have to go further up the mountains: where they are more difficult both to find and follow. But no doubt we’ll soon stir one up, when we get among thecabezas del negro. The nuts are just now full of their sweet milky paste, of which the bears are so fond, and about a mile from here there are whole acres of the trees. I warrant we find a bear among them.”Though still puzzled with this half-explanation, our young hunters followed the guide—confident that they would soon come in sight of the “negro’s head.”

According to their usual practice, they had hired one of the native hunters of the district to act as a guide, and assist them in finding the haunts of Bruin. In Napo they were fortunate in meeting with the very man in the person of amestizo, or half-blood Indian, who followed hunting for his sole calling. He was what is termed a “tigrero,” or tiger-hunter—which title he derived from the fact that the jaguar was the principal object of his pursuit. Among all Spanish-Americans—Mexicans included—the beautiful spotted jaguar is erroneously termedtigre(tiger), as the puma or couguar is calledleon(lion). A hunter of the jaguar is therefore denominated a “tiger-hunter,” ortigrero.

There are no puma or lion-hunters by profession—as there is nothing about this brute to make it worth while—but hunting the jaguar is, in many parts of Spanish America, a specific calling; and men make their living solely by following this occupation. One inducement is to obtain the skin, which, in common with those of the great spotted cats of the Old World, is an article of commerce, and from its superior beauty commands a good price. But thetigrerocould scarce make out to live upon the sale of the skins alone; for although a London furrier will charge from two to three guineas for a jaguar’s robe, the poor hunter in his remote wilderness market can obtain little more than a tenth part of this price—notwithstanding that he has to risk his life, before he can strip the fair mantle from the shoulders of its original wearer.

It is evident, therefore, that jaguar-hunting would not pay, if there was only the pelt to depend upon; but thetigrerolooks to another source of profit—thebounty.

In the hotter regions of Spanish America,—the Brazils as well—there are many settlements to which the jaguar is not only a pest, but a terror. Cattle in hundreds are destroyed by these great predatory animals; even full-grown horses are killed and dragged away by them! But is this all? Are the people themselves left unmolested? No. On the contrary, great numbers of human beings every year fall victims to the rapacity of the jaguars. Settlements attempted on the edge of the great Montaña—in the very country where our young hunters had now arrived—have, after a time, been abandoned from this cause alone. It is a well-known fact, that where a settlement has been formed, the jaguars soon become more plentiful in that neighbourhood: the increased facility of obtaining food—by preying on the cattle of the settlers, or upon the owners themselves—accounting for this augmentation in their numbers. It is precisely the same with the royal tiger of India, as is instanced in the history of the modern settlement of Singapore.

To prevent the increase of the jaguars then, a bounty is offered for their destruction. This bounty is sometimes the gift of the government of the country, and sometimes of the municipal authorities of the district. Not unfrequently private individuals, who own large herds of cattle, give a bounty out of their private purses for every jaguar killed within the limits of their estates. Indeed, it is not an uncommon thing for the wealthy proprietor of a cattle-estate (hacienda de ganados) to maintain one or more “tigreros” in his service—just as gamekeepers are kept by European grandees—whose sole business consists in hunting and destroying the jaguar. These men are sometimes pure Indians, but, as a general thing, they are of the mixed, ormestizorace. It need hardly be said that they are hunters of the greatest courage. They require to be so: since an encounter with a full-grown jaguar is but little less dangerous than with his striped congener of the Indian jungles. In these conflicts, the tigreros often receive severe wounds from the teeth and claws of their terrible adversary; and, not unfrequently, the hunter himself becomes the victim.

You may wonder that men are found to follow such a perilous calling, and with such slight inducement—for even the bounty is only a trifle of a dollar or two—differing in amount in different districts, and according to the liberality of the bestower. But it is in this matter as with all others of a like kind—where the very danger itself seems to be the lure.

The tigrero usually depends upon fire-arms for destroying his noble game; but where his shot fails, and it is necessary to come to close quarters, he will even attack the jaguar with hismachete—a species of half-knife half-sword, to be found in every Spanish-American cottage from California to Chili.

Very often the jaguar is hunted without the gun. The tigrero, in this case, arms himself with a short spear, the shaft of which is made of a strong hard wood, either aguaiacum, or a piece of the split trunk of one of the hardwood palms.

The point of this spear is frequently without iron—only sharpened and hardened by being held in the fire—and with this in his left hand, and his short sword in the right, the hunter advances with confidence upon his formidable adversary. This confidence has been fortified by a contrivance which he has had the precaution to adopt—that is, of enveloping his left arm in the ample folds of his blanket—serape, roana, orponcho, according to the country to which he belongs—and using this as a shield.

The left arm is held well forward, so that the woollen mass may cover his body against the bound of the animal, and thus is the attack received. The jaguar, like all feline quadrupeds, springs directly forward upon his prey. The tigrero prepared for this, and, with every nerve braced, receives the assailant upon the point of his short spear. Should the jaguar strike with its claws it only clutches the woollen cloth; and while tearing at this—which it believes to be the body of its intended victim—the right arm of the hunter is left free, and with the sharp blade of hismachetehe can either make cut or thrust at his pleasure. It is not always that the tigrero succeeds in destroying his enemy without receiving a scratch or two in return; but a daring hunter makes light of such wounds—for these scars become badges of distinction, and give himéclatamong the villages of the Montaña.

Just such a man was the guide whom our young hunters had engaged, and who, though a tiger-hunter by profession, was equally expert at the capturing of a bear—when one of these animals chanced to stray down from the higher slopes of the mountains, into the warmer country frequented by the jaguars. It was not always that bears could be found in these lower regions; but there is a particular season of the year when the black bear (ursus frugilegus) descends far below his usual range, and even wanders far out into the forests of the Montaña.

Of course there must be some inducement for his making this annual migration from his mountain home; for theursus frugilegus, though here dwelling within the tropics, does not affect a tropical climate. Neither is he a denizen of the very cold plains—theparamos—that extend among the summits of eternal snow. A medium temperature is his choice; and this, as we have already stated, he finds among the foot-hills, forming the lower zone of the Eastern Andes. It is there he spends most of his life, and that is his place of birth, and consequently his true home. At a particular season of the year, corresponding to the summer of our own country, he makes a roving expedition to the lower regions; and for what purpose? This was the very question which Alexis put to the tigrero. The answer was as curious as laconic:

“Comer la cabeza del negro.” (To eat the negro’s head!)

“Ha, ha! to eat the negro’s head!” repeated Ivan, with an incredulous laugh.

“Just so, señorito!” rejoined the man; “that is what brings him down here.”

“Why, the voracious brute!” said Ivan; “you don’t mean to say that he makes food of the heads of the poor negroes?”

“Oh no!” replied the tigrero, smiling in his turn; “it is not that.”

“What then?” impatiently inquired Ivan. “I’ve heard of negro-head tobacco. He’s not a tobacco chewer, is he?”

“Carrambo! no, señorito,” replied the tiger-hunter, now laughing outright; “that’s not the sort of food the fellow is fond of. You’ll see it presently. By good luck, it’s just in season now—just as the bears fancy it—or else we needn’t look to start them here. We should have to go further up the mountains: where they are more difficult both to find and follow. But no doubt we’ll soon stir one up, when we get among thecabezas del negro. The nuts are just now full of their sweet milky paste, of which the bears are so fond, and about a mile from here there are whole acres of the trees. I warrant we find a bear among them.”

Though still puzzled with this half-explanation, our young hunters followed the guide—confident that they would soon come in sight of the “negro’s head.”

Chapter Thirty Six.The Tagua Tree.After going about a mile further, as their guide had forewarned them, they came within sight of a level valley, or rather a plain, covered with a singular vegetation. It looked as if it had been a forest of palms—the trunks of which had sunk down into the earth, and left only the heads, with their great radiating fronds above the ground! Some of them stood a foot or two above the surface; but most appeared as if their stems had been completely buried! They were growing all the same, however; and, at the bottom of each great bunch of pinnate leaves, could be seen a number of large, roundish objects—which were evidently the fruits of the plant.There was no mystery about the stems being buried underground. There were no stems, and never had been any—except those that were seen rising a yard or so above the surface. Neither was there any longer a mystery about the “negro’s head;” for the rounded fruit, with its wrinkled coriaceous pericarp—suggesting a resemblance to the little curly knots of wool on the head of an African—was evidently the object to which the tigrero had applied the ambiguous appellation.What our hunters saw was neither more nor less than a grove ofTaguatrees—better known as the “vegetable ivory.”This singular tree was for a long time regarded as a plant of theOycasfamily; and by some botanists it has been classed among thePandanaceae, or screw-pines. Growing, as its leaves do, almost out of the earth, or with only a short trunk, it bears a very marked resemblance to the cycads; but for all this, it is a true palm. Its not having a tall trunk is no reason why it should not be a palm, since many other species ofpalmaceaeare equally destitute of a visible stem. It is now, however, acknowledged by the most expert botanists, that the “Tagua”—or “Cabeza del Negro,” as the Peruvians style it—is a palm; and it has been honoured as the representative of a genus (Phytelephas), of which there are but two species known—the great fruited and little fruited (macrocarpaandmicrocarpa). Both are natives of the hot valleys of the Andes, and differ very little from each other; but it is the species with the larger fruit that is distinguished by the figurative title of “negro’s head.”The Peruvian Indians use the pinnate fronds of both species for thatching their huts; but it is the nuts of the larger one that have given its great celebrity to the tree. These are of an oblong triangular shape; and a great number of them are enclosed in the pericarp, already described. When young, they are filled with a watery liquid that has no particular taste; though regarded by the Indians as a most refreshing beverage. A little older, this crystal-like fluid turns of a milky colour and consistence; and still later it becomes a white paste. When fully ripe, it congeals to the whiteness and hardness of ivory itself; and, if kept out of water, is even more beautiful in texture than, the tusks of the elephant. It has been employed by the Indians from time immemorial in the construction of buttons, heads for their pipes, and many other purposes. Of late years it has found its way into the hands of civilised artisans; and, since it can be procured at a cheaper rate, and is quite equal to the real ivory for many useful and ornamental articles, it has become an important item of commerce.But however much the vegetable ivory may be esteemed by the Indians, or by bipeds of any kind, there is one quadruped who thinks quite as much of it as they, and that is the black bear of the Andes (ursus frugilegus). It is not, however, when it has reached the condition of ivory that Bruin cares for it. Then the nut would be too hard, even for his powerful jaws to crack. It is when it is in the milky state—or rather after it has become coagulated to a paste—that he relishes it; and with so much avidity does he devour the sweet pulp, that at this season he is easily discovered in the midst of his depredations, and will scarce move away from his meal even upon the appearance of the hunter! While engaged in devouring his favourite negro-head, he appears indifferent to any danger that may threaten him.Of this our hunters had proof, and very shortly after entering among the tagua trees. As the tigrero had predicted, they soon came upon the “sign” of a bear, and almost in the same instant discovered Bruin himself browsing upon the fruit.The young hunters, and Pouchskin too, were about getting ready to fire upon him; when, to their surprise, they saw the tigrero, who was mounted on a prancing little horse, spur out in front of them, and gallop towards the bear. They knew that the killing of the animal should have been left to them; but, as they had given their guide no notice of this, they said nothing, but looked on—leaving the tigrero to manage matters after his own way.It was evident that he intended to attack the bear, and in a peculiar fashion. They knew this by seeing that he carried a coil of raw-hide rope over his arm, on one end of which there was a ring and loop. They knew, moreover, that this was a celebrated weapon of the South Americans—thelazo, in short; but never having witnessed an exhibition of its use, they were curious to do so; and this also influenced them to keep their places.In a few minutes the horseman had galloped within some twenty paces of the bear. The latter took the alarm, and commenced trotting off; but with a sullen reluctance, which showed that he had no great disposition to shun the encounter.The ground was tolerably clear, the taguas standing far apart, and many of them not rising higher than the bear’s back. This gave the spectators an opportunity of witnessing the chase.It was not a long one. The bear perceiving that the horseman was gaining upon him, turned suddenly in his tracks, and, with an angry growl, rose erect upon his hind legs, and stood facing his pursuer in an attitude of defiance. As the horseman drew near, however, he appeared to become cowed, and once more turning tail, shambled off through the bushes. This time he only ran a few lengths: for the shouts of the hunter provoking him to a fresh fit of fury, caused him to halt again, and raise himself erect as before.This was just the opportunity of which the hunter was in expectation; and before the bear could lower himself on all-fours—to charge forward upon the horse, the long rope went spinning through the air, and its noose was seen settling over the shoulders of the bear. The huge quadruped, puzzled by this mode of attack, endeavoured to seize hold of the rope; but so thin was the raw-hide thong, that he could not clutch it with his great unwieldy paws; and by his efforts he only drew the noose tighter around his neck.Meanwhile, the hunter, on projecting the lazo, had wheeled, with the quickness of thought; and, driving his sharp spurs into the ribs of his horse, caused the latter to gallop in the opposite direction. One might have supposed that he had taken fright at the bear, and was endeavouring to get out of the way. Not so. His object was very different. The lazo still formed a link of connection between the hunter and his game. One end of it was fast to a staple firmly imbedded in the wood of the saddle-tree, while the other, as we have seen, was noosed around the bear. As the horse stretched off, the rope was seen to tighten with a sudden jerk; and Bruin was not only floored from his erect attitude, but plucked clear off his feet, and laid sprawling along the earth. In that position he was not permitted to remain: for the horse continuing his gallop, he was dragged along the ground at the end of the lazo—his huge body now bounding several feet from the earth, and now breaking through the bushes with a crackling, crashing noise, such as he had himself never made in his most impetuous charges.In this way went horse and bear for half a mile over the plain; the spectators following after to witness the ending of the affair. About that there was nothing particular: for when the tigrero at length halted, and the party got up to the ground, they saw only an immobile mass of shaggy hair—so coated with dust as to resemble a heap of earth. It was the bear without a particle of breath in his body; but, lest he might recover it again, the tigrero leaped from his horse, stepped up to the prostrate bear, and buried hismachetebetween the ribs of the unconscious animal.That, he said, was the way they captured bears in his part of the country. They did not employ the same plan with the jaguars: because these animals, crouching, as they do, offered no opportunity for casting the noose over them; and, besides, the jaguars haunt only among thick woods, where the lazo could not be used to advantage.Of course, the skin of this particular bear was not suitable for the purpose for which one was required; and the tigrero kept it for his own profit. But that did not signify: another bear was soon discovered among the tagua trees; and this being despatched by a shot from the rifle of Alexis,—supplemented, perhaps, by a bullet from the fusil of the ex-guardsman,—supplied them with a skin according to contract; and so far as theursus frugileguswas concerned, their bear-hunting in that neighbourhood was at an end. To find his cousin with the “goggle eyes,” they would have to journey onward and upward; and adopting for their motto the spirit-stirring symbol “Excelsior!” they proceeded to climb the stupendous Cordilleras of the Andes.In one of the higher valleys, known among Peruvians as the “Sierra,” they obtained a specimen of the “Hucumari.” They chanced upon this creature while he was engaged in plundering a field of Indian corn—quite close to a “tambo,” or traveller’s shed, where they had put up for the night. It was very early in the morning when the corn-stealer was discovered; but being caught in the act, and his whole attention taken up with the sweet milky ears of maize, his “spectacled” eyes did not avail him. Our hunters, approaching with due caution, were able to get so near, that the first shot tumbled him over among the stalks.Having secured his skin, they mounted their mules, and by the great Cordillera road proceeded onward to the ancient capital of northern Peru.

After going about a mile further, as their guide had forewarned them, they came within sight of a level valley, or rather a plain, covered with a singular vegetation. It looked as if it had been a forest of palms—the trunks of which had sunk down into the earth, and left only the heads, with their great radiating fronds above the ground! Some of them stood a foot or two above the surface; but most appeared as if their stems had been completely buried! They were growing all the same, however; and, at the bottom of each great bunch of pinnate leaves, could be seen a number of large, roundish objects—which were evidently the fruits of the plant.

There was no mystery about the stems being buried underground. There were no stems, and never had been any—except those that were seen rising a yard or so above the surface. Neither was there any longer a mystery about the “negro’s head;” for the rounded fruit, with its wrinkled coriaceous pericarp—suggesting a resemblance to the little curly knots of wool on the head of an African—was evidently the object to which the tigrero had applied the ambiguous appellation.

What our hunters saw was neither more nor less than a grove ofTaguatrees—better known as the “vegetable ivory.”

This singular tree was for a long time regarded as a plant of theOycasfamily; and by some botanists it has been classed among thePandanaceae, or screw-pines. Growing, as its leaves do, almost out of the earth, or with only a short trunk, it bears a very marked resemblance to the cycads; but for all this, it is a true palm. Its not having a tall trunk is no reason why it should not be a palm, since many other species ofpalmaceaeare equally destitute of a visible stem. It is now, however, acknowledged by the most expert botanists, that the “Tagua”—or “Cabeza del Negro,” as the Peruvians style it—is a palm; and it has been honoured as the representative of a genus (Phytelephas), of which there are but two species known—the great fruited and little fruited (macrocarpaandmicrocarpa). Both are natives of the hot valleys of the Andes, and differ very little from each other; but it is the species with the larger fruit that is distinguished by the figurative title of “negro’s head.”

The Peruvian Indians use the pinnate fronds of both species for thatching their huts; but it is the nuts of the larger one that have given its great celebrity to the tree. These are of an oblong triangular shape; and a great number of them are enclosed in the pericarp, already described. When young, they are filled with a watery liquid that has no particular taste; though regarded by the Indians as a most refreshing beverage. A little older, this crystal-like fluid turns of a milky colour and consistence; and still later it becomes a white paste. When fully ripe, it congeals to the whiteness and hardness of ivory itself; and, if kept out of water, is even more beautiful in texture than, the tusks of the elephant. It has been employed by the Indians from time immemorial in the construction of buttons, heads for their pipes, and many other purposes. Of late years it has found its way into the hands of civilised artisans; and, since it can be procured at a cheaper rate, and is quite equal to the real ivory for many useful and ornamental articles, it has become an important item of commerce.

But however much the vegetable ivory may be esteemed by the Indians, or by bipeds of any kind, there is one quadruped who thinks quite as much of it as they, and that is the black bear of the Andes (ursus frugilegus). It is not, however, when it has reached the condition of ivory that Bruin cares for it. Then the nut would be too hard, even for his powerful jaws to crack. It is when it is in the milky state—or rather after it has become coagulated to a paste—that he relishes it; and with so much avidity does he devour the sweet pulp, that at this season he is easily discovered in the midst of his depredations, and will scarce move away from his meal even upon the appearance of the hunter! While engaged in devouring his favourite negro-head, he appears indifferent to any danger that may threaten him.

Of this our hunters had proof, and very shortly after entering among the tagua trees. As the tigrero had predicted, they soon came upon the “sign” of a bear, and almost in the same instant discovered Bruin himself browsing upon the fruit.

The young hunters, and Pouchskin too, were about getting ready to fire upon him; when, to their surprise, they saw the tigrero, who was mounted on a prancing little horse, spur out in front of them, and gallop towards the bear. They knew that the killing of the animal should have been left to them; but, as they had given their guide no notice of this, they said nothing, but looked on—leaving the tigrero to manage matters after his own way.

It was evident that he intended to attack the bear, and in a peculiar fashion. They knew this by seeing that he carried a coil of raw-hide rope over his arm, on one end of which there was a ring and loop. They knew, moreover, that this was a celebrated weapon of the South Americans—thelazo, in short; but never having witnessed an exhibition of its use, they were curious to do so; and this also influenced them to keep their places.

In a few minutes the horseman had galloped within some twenty paces of the bear. The latter took the alarm, and commenced trotting off; but with a sullen reluctance, which showed that he had no great disposition to shun the encounter.

The ground was tolerably clear, the taguas standing far apart, and many of them not rising higher than the bear’s back. This gave the spectators an opportunity of witnessing the chase.

It was not a long one. The bear perceiving that the horseman was gaining upon him, turned suddenly in his tracks, and, with an angry growl, rose erect upon his hind legs, and stood facing his pursuer in an attitude of defiance. As the horseman drew near, however, he appeared to become cowed, and once more turning tail, shambled off through the bushes. This time he only ran a few lengths: for the shouts of the hunter provoking him to a fresh fit of fury, caused him to halt again, and raise himself erect as before.

This was just the opportunity of which the hunter was in expectation; and before the bear could lower himself on all-fours—to charge forward upon the horse, the long rope went spinning through the air, and its noose was seen settling over the shoulders of the bear. The huge quadruped, puzzled by this mode of attack, endeavoured to seize hold of the rope; but so thin was the raw-hide thong, that he could not clutch it with his great unwieldy paws; and by his efforts he only drew the noose tighter around his neck.

Meanwhile, the hunter, on projecting the lazo, had wheeled, with the quickness of thought; and, driving his sharp spurs into the ribs of his horse, caused the latter to gallop in the opposite direction. One might have supposed that he had taken fright at the bear, and was endeavouring to get out of the way. Not so. His object was very different. The lazo still formed a link of connection between the hunter and his game. One end of it was fast to a staple firmly imbedded in the wood of the saddle-tree, while the other, as we have seen, was noosed around the bear. As the horse stretched off, the rope was seen to tighten with a sudden jerk; and Bruin was not only floored from his erect attitude, but plucked clear off his feet, and laid sprawling along the earth. In that position he was not permitted to remain: for the horse continuing his gallop, he was dragged along the ground at the end of the lazo—his huge body now bounding several feet from the earth, and now breaking through the bushes with a crackling, crashing noise, such as he had himself never made in his most impetuous charges.

In this way went horse and bear for half a mile over the plain; the spectators following after to witness the ending of the affair. About that there was nothing particular: for when the tigrero at length halted, and the party got up to the ground, they saw only an immobile mass of shaggy hair—so coated with dust as to resemble a heap of earth. It was the bear without a particle of breath in his body; but, lest he might recover it again, the tigrero leaped from his horse, stepped up to the prostrate bear, and buried hismachetebetween the ribs of the unconscious animal.

That, he said, was the way they captured bears in his part of the country. They did not employ the same plan with the jaguars: because these animals, crouching, as they do, offered no opportunity for casting the noose over them; and, besides, the jaguars haunt only among thick woods, where the lazo could not be used to advantage.

Of course, the skin of this particular bear was not suitable for the purpose for which one was required; and the tigrero kept it for his own profit. But that did not signify: another bear was soon discovered among the tagua trees; and this being despatched by a shot from the rifle of Alexis,—supplemented, perhaps, by a bullet from the fusil of the ex-guardsman,—supplied them with a skin according to contract; and so far as theursus frugileguswas concerned, their bear-hunting in that neighbourhood was at an end. To find his cousin with the “goggle eyes,” they would have to journey onward and upward; and adopting for their motto the spirit-stirring symbol “Excelsior!” they proceeded to climb the stupendous Cordilleras of the Andes.

In one of the higher valleys, known among Peruvians as the “Sierra,” they obtained a specimen of the “Hucumari.” They chanced upon this creature while he was engaged in plundering a field of Indian corn—quite close to a “tambo,” or traveller’s shed, where they had put up for the night. It was very early in the morning when the corn-stealer was discovered; but being caught in the act, and his whole attention taken up with the sweet milky ears of maize, his “spectacled” eyes did not avail him. Our hunters, approaching with due caution, were able to get so near, that the first shot tumbled him over among the stalks.

Having secured his skin, they mounted their mules, and by the great Cordillera road proceeded onward to the ancient capital of northern Peru.

Chapter Thirty Seven.Northward!After resting some days in the old capital of Quito, our travellers proceeded to the small port of Barbacoas, on the west coast of Equador; and thence took passage for Panama. Crossing the famous isthmus to Porto Bello, they shipped again for New Orleans, on the Mississippi. Of course, their next aim was to procure the North American bears—including the Polar, which is equally an inhabitant of northern Asia, but which, by the conditions of their route, would be more conveniently reached on the continent of North America. Alexis knew that the black bear (ursus americanus) might be met with anywhere on that continent from the shores of Hudson’s Bay to the isthmus of Panama, and from the seaboard of the Atlantic to the coast of the Pacific Ocean. No other has so wide a range as this species—with the exception, perhaps, of the brown bear of Europe—which, as we have said, is also an Asiatic animal. Throughout the whole extent of country above defined, the black bear may be encountered, not specially confining himself to mountain-ranges. True, in the more settled districts he has been driven to these—as affording him a refuge from the hunter; but in his normal condition he is by no means a mountain-dwelling animal. On the contrary, he affects equally the low-wooded bottoms of ravines, and is as much at home in a climate of tropical or sub-tropical character, as in the cold forests of the Canadas.Mr Spencer Baird—the naturalist intrusted by the American Government to describe thefaunaof their territory, and furnished for his text with one of the most splendid collections ever made—in speaking of the genusursus, makes the following remarks:—“The species of bears are not numerous, nor are they to be found except in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere. North America possesses more species than any other part of the world, having at least four, and perhaps five.”With the exception of the very idle assertion that “the species of bears are not numerous,” every idea put forth in the above categorical declaration is the very reverse of what is true.Is the polar bear found only in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere? Is theursus arctosof Europe confined to these limits? Are the bears of South America?—the sloth bear of India and Ceylon?—the bruang of Borneo?—and his near congener, the bruang of Java and Sumatra? Why, these last are actually dwellers among palm-trees—as the cocoa-planters know to their cost! Even Mr Baird’s own American black bear is not so “temperate” in his habits; but loves the half-tropical climate of Florida and Texas quite as much as the cold declivities of the Alleghanies.And how does North America possess more species than any other part of the world? Even admitting the doubtful fifth, on the continent of Asia there are six species at the very least; and, if we are allowed to include the Oriental islands, we make eight Asiatic. There are three species in the Himalaya mountains alone—unquestionably distinct, dwelling in separate zones of altitude, but with the territory of all three visible at a singlecoup d’oeil.Mr Baird is a naturalist of great celebrity in America. He is a secretary of the Smithsonian Institution: he should make better use of the books which its fine library can afford him.The United States’ Government is extremely unfortunate in the selection of its scientificemployés—more especially in the departments of natural history. Perhaps the most liberal appropriation ever made for ethnological purposes—that for collecting a complete account of the North American Indians—has been spent without purpose, the “job” having fallen into the hands of a “placeman,” or “old hunker,” as the Americans term it—a man neither learned nor intellectual. With the exception of the statistics furnished by Indian agents, the voluminous work of Schoolcraft is absolutely worthless; and students of ethnology cannot contemplate such a misappropriation without feelings of regret.Fortunately, the American aboriginal had already found a true portrayer and historian. Private enterprise, as is not unfrequently the case, has outstripped Government patronage in the performance of its task. In the unpretending volumes of George Catlin we find the most complete ethnological monograph ever given to the world; but just for that reason, Catlin, not Schoolcraft, should have been chosen for the “job.”Knowing the range of the black bear to be thus grandly extended, our young hunters had a choice of places in which to look for one; but, as there is no place where these animals are more common than in Louisiana itself, they concluded that they could not do better than there choose their hunting-ground. In the great forests, which still cover a large portion of Louisiana, and especially upon the banks of the sluggishbayous, where the marshy soil and the huge cypress trees, festooned with Spanish moss, bid defiance to all attempts at cultivation, the black bear still roams at will. There he is found in sufficient numbers to ensure the procuring of a specimen without much difficulty.The hunters of these parts have various modes of capturing him. The log-trap is a common plan; but the planters enjoy the sport of running him down with dogs; or rather should it be termed running him up; since the chase usually ends by Bruin taking to a tree, and thus unconsciously putting himself within reach of the unerring rifle.It was by this means that our young hunters determined to try their luck; and they had no difficulty in procuring the necessary adjuncts to ensure success. The great Czar, powerful everywhere, was not without his agent at New Orleans. From him a letter of introduction was obtained to a planter living on one of the interiorbayous; and our heroes, having repaired thither, were at once set in train for the sport—the planter placing himself, his house, his hounds, and his horses at their disposal.

After resting some days in the old capital of Quito, our travellers proceeded to the small port of Barbacoas, on the west coast of Equador; and thence took passage for Panama. Crossing the famous isthmus to Porto Bello, they shipped again for New Orleans, on the Mississippi. Of course, their next aim was to procure the North American bears—including the Polar, which is equally an inhabitant of northern Asia, but which, by the conditions of their route, would be more conveniently reached on the continent of North America. Alexis knew that the black bear (ursus americanus) might be met with anywhere on that continent from the shores of Hudson’s Bay to the isthmus of Panama, and from the seaboard of the Atlantic to the coast of the Pacific Ocean. No other has so wide a range as this species—with the exception, perhaps, of the brown bear of Europe—which, as we have said, is also an Asiatic animal. Throughout the whole extent of country above defined, the black bear may be encountered, not specially confining himself to mountain-ranges. True, in the more settled districts he has been driven to these—as affording him a refuge from the hunter; but in his normal condition he is by no means a mountain-dwelling animal. On the contrary, he affects equally the low-wooded bottoms of ravines, and is as much at home in a climate of tropical or sub-tropical character, as in the cold forests of the Canadas.

Mr Spencer Baird—the naturalist intrusted by the American Government to describe thefaunaof their territory, and furnished for his text with one of the most splendid collections ever made—in speaking of the genusursus, makes the following remarks:—

“The species of bears are not numerous, nor are they to be found except in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere. North America possesses more species than any other part of the world, having at least four, and perhaps five.”

With the exception of the very idle assertion that “the species of bears are not numerous,” every idea put forth in the above categorical declaration is the very reverse of what is true.

Is the polar bear found only in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere? Is theursus arctosof Europe confined to these limits? Are the bears of South America?—the sloth bear of India and Ceylon?—the bruang of Borneo?—and his near congener, the bruang of Java and Sumatra? Why, these last are actually dwellers among palm-trees—as the cocoa-planters know to their cost! Even Mr Baird’s own American black bear is not so “temperate” in his habits; but loves the half-tropical climate of Florida and Texas quite as much as the cold declivities of the Alleghanies.

And how does North America possess more species than any other part of the world? Even admitting the doubtful fifth, on the continent of Asia there are six species at the very least; and, if we are allowed to include the Oriental islands, we make eight Asiatic. There are three species in the Himalaya mountains alone—unquestionably distinct, dwelling in separate zones of altitude, but with the territory of all three visible at a singlecoup d’oeil.

Mr Baird is a naturalist of great celebrity in America. He is a secretary of the Smithsonian Institution: he should make better use of the books which its fine library can afford him.

The United States’ Government is extremely unfortunate in the selection of its scientificemployés—more especially in the departments of natural history. Perhaps the most liberal appropriation ever made for ethnological purposes—that for collecting a complete account of the North American Indians—has been spent without purpose, the “job” having fallen into the hands of a “placeman,” or “old hunker,” as the Americans term it—a man neither learned nor intellectual. With the exception of the statistics furnished by Indian agents, the voluminous work of Schoolcraft is absolutely worthless; and students of ethnology cannot contemplate such a misappropriation without feelings of regret.

Fortunately, the American aboriginal had already found a true portrayer and historian. Private enterprise, as is not unfrequently the case, has outstripped Government patronage in the performance of its task. In the unpretending volumes of George Catlin we find the most complete ethnological monograph ever given to the world; but just for that reason, Catlin, not Schoolcraft, should have been chosen for the “job.”

Knowing the range of the black bear to be thus grandly extended, our young hunters had a choice of places in which to look for one; but, as there is no place where these animals are more common than in Louisiana itself, they concluded that they could not do better than there choose their hunting-ground. In the great forests, which still cover a large portion of Louisiana, and especially upon the banks of the sluggishbayous, where the marshy soil and the huge cypress trees, festooned with Spanish moss, bid defiance to all attempts at cultivation, the black bear still roams at will. There he is found in sufficient numbers to ensure the procuring of a specimen without much difficulty.

The hunters of these parts have various modes of capturing him. The log-trap is a common plan; but the planters enjoy the sport of running him down with dogs; or rather should it be termed running him up; since the chase usually ends by Bruin taking to a tree, and thus unconsciously putting himself within reach of the unerring rifle.

It was by this means that our young hunters determined to try their luck; and they had no difficulty in procuring the necessary adjuncts to ensure success. The great Czar, powerful everywhere, was not without his agent at New Orleans. From him a letter of introduction was obtained to a planter living on one of the interiorbayous; and our heroes, having repaired thither, were at once set in train for the sport—the planter placing himself, his house, his hounds, and his horses at their disposal.

Chapter Thirty Eight.The Northern Forests.On their arrival, the hospitable planter sent to his neighbours, and arranged a grand hunt, to come off at an early day specified in the invitation. Each was to bring with him such hounds as he was possessed of—and in this way a large pack might be got together, so that a wide extent of forest could be driven.Among the planters of the Southern states this is a very common practice: only a few of them keeping what might be called a regular kennel of hounds, but many of them having five or six couples. In a neighbourhood favourable to the chase, by uniting a number of these little bands together, a pack may be got up large enough for any purpose.The usual game hunted in the Southern states is the American fallow-deer (cervus virginianus), which is still found in considerable plenty in the more solitary tracts of forest all over the United States. It is the only species of deer indigenous to Louisiana: since, the noble stag or “elk,” as he is erroneously called (cervus canadensis), does not range so far to the south. On the Pacific coast this animal is found in much lower latitudes than on that of the Atlantic.Besides the fallow-deer, the fox gives sport to the Louisiana hunter. This is the grey fox (vulpes virginianus). The bay lynx also—or wild cat, as it is called (lynx rufus)—and now and then, but more rarely, the cougar (felis concolor), give the hounds a run before taking to the tree.Racoons, opossums, and skunks are common enough in the forests of Louisiana; but these are regarded as “vermin,” and are not permitted to lead the dogs astray.With regard to the other animals mentioned, they all rank as noble game—especially the cougar, called “panther” by the backwoodsman—and the pack may follow whichever is first “scared up.”The grand game, however, is the bear; and the capture of Bruin is not a feat of everyday occurrence. To find his haunts it is necessary to make an excursion into the more unfrequented and inaccessible solitudes of the forest—in places often many miles from a settlement. Not unfrequently, however, the old gentleman wanders abroad from his unknown retreat, and seeks the plantations—where in the night-time he skulks round the edges of the fields, and commits serious depredations on the young maize plants, or the succulent stalks of the sugar-cane, of which he is immoderately fond. Like his brown congener of Europe he has a sweet tooth, and is greatly given to honey. To get at it he climbs the bee-trees, and robs the hive of its stores. In all these respects he is like the brown bear; but otherwise he differs greatly from the latter species, so much indeed, that it is matter of surprise how any naturalist should have been led to regard them as the same.Not only in colour, but in shape and other respects, are they totally unlike. While the fur of the brown bear is tossed and tufty—having that appearance usually termedshaggy—that of the American black bear is of uniform length, and all lying, or rather standing, in one direction, presenting a smooth surface corresponding to the contour of his body. In this respect he is far more akin to the bears of the Asiatic islands, than to theursus arctos. In shape, too, he differs essentially from the latter. His body is more slender, his muzzle longer and sharper, and his profile is a curve with its convexity upward. This last characteristic, which is constant, proclaims him indubitably a distinct species from the brown bear of Europe; and he is altogether a smaller and more mild-tempered animal.As the grand “chasse” had been arranged to come off on the third day after their arrival, our young hunters determined to employ the interval in ranging the neighbouring woods; not with any expectation of finding a bear—as their host did not believe there was any so near—but rather for the purpose of becoming acquainted with the character of the North Americansylva.That of South America Alexis had carefully observed and studied in their long journey across that continent. He had noted the grand tropical trees—the palms andpothosplants—themimosasandmusaceae—the magnificent forms of thelombaxandbertholletia—the curiouscecropiasand fig-trees—the giantcedrelasand the gum-yieldingsiphonias. On the Andes he had observed the agaves, the cycads, and cactaceae—all strange to the eye of a Russian. He was now desirous of making himself familiar with the forests of North America; which, though of a sub-tropical character in Louisiana, contained forms altogether different from those of the Amazonian regions. Here he would meet with the famed magnolia, and its relative the tulip-tree; the catalpa and flowering cornel, the giant cypress and sycamore, the evergreen oak, the water-loving tupelo, and the curious fan-like palmetto. Of these, and many other beautiful trees belonging to the North Americansylva, Alexis had read—in fact, knew them botanically; but he wished to cultivate a still pleasanter acquaintance with them, by visiting them in their own native home.For this purpose he and Ivan set out alone, with only a negro for their guide; the planter being engaged, visiting his different friends, and warning them for the grand hunt.Pouchskin remained behind. He had been left at the house—to do some necessary repairs to the travelling traps both of himself and his young masters, which, after their long South American expedition, needed looking to. At this work had Pouchskin been left, surrounded by a circle of grinning darkies, in whose company the old grenadier would find material to interest and amuse him.It was only for a stroll that our young hunters had sallied forth, and without any design of entering upon the chase; but they had become so accustomed to carrying their guns everywhere, that these were taken along with them. Some curious bird or quadruped might be started—whose fur or feathers they might fancy to make an examination of. For that reason, both shouldered their guns.

On their arrival, the hospitable planter sent to his neighbours, and arranged a grand hunt, to come off at an early day specified in the invitation. Each was to bring with him such hounds as he was possessed of—and in this way a large pack might be got together, so that a wide extent of forest could be driven.

Among the planters of the Southern states this is a very common practice: only a few of them keeping what might be called a regular kennel of hounds, but many of them having five or six couples. In a neighbourhood favourable to the chase, by uniting a number of these little bands together, a pack may be got up large enough for any purpose.

The usual game hunted in the Southern states is the American fallow-deer (cervus virginianus), which is still found in considerable plenty in the more solitary tracts of forest all over the United States. It is the only species of deer indigenous to Louisiana: since, the noble stag or “elk,” as he is erroneously called (cervus canadensis), does not range so far to the south. On the Pacific coast this animal is found in much lower latitudes than on that of the Atlantic.

Besides the fallow-deer, the fox gives sport to the Louisiana hunter. This is the grey fox (vulpes virginianus). The bay lynx also—or wild cat, as it is called (lynx rufus)—and now and then, but more rarely, the cougar (felis concolor), give the hounds a run before taking to the tree.

Racoons, opossums, and skunks are common enough in the forests of Louisiana; but these are regarded as “vermin,” and are not permitted to lead the dogs astray.

With regard to the other animals mentioned, they all rank as noble game—especially the cougar, called “panther” by the backwoodsman—and the pack may follow whichever is first “scared up.”

The grand game, however, is the bear; and the capture of Bruin is not a feat of everyday occurrence. To find his haunts it is necessary to make an excursion into the more unfrequented and inaccessible solitudes of the forest—in places often many miles from a settlement. Not unfrequently, however, the old gentleman wanders abroad from his unknown retreat, and seeks the plantations—where in the night-time he skulks round the edges of the fields, and commits serious depredations on the young maize plants, or the succulent stalks of the sugar-cane, of which he is immoderately fond. Like his brown congener of Europe he has a sweet tooth, and is greatly given to honey. To get at it he climbs the bee-trees, and robs the hive of its stores. In all these respects he is like the brown bear; but otherwise he differs greatly from the latter species, so much indeed, that it is matter of surprise how any naturalist should have been led to regard them as the same.

Not only in colour, but in shape and other respects, are they totally unlike. While the fur of the brown bear is tossed and tufty—having that appearance usually termedshaggy—that of the American black bear is of uniform length, and all lying, or rather standing, in one direction, presenting a smooth surface corresponding to the contour of his body. In this respect he is far more akin to the bears of the Asiatic islands, than to theursus arctos. In shape, too, he differs essentially from the latter. His body is more slender, his muzzle longer and sharper, and his profile is a curve with its convexity upward. This last characteristic, which is constant, proclaims him indubitably a distinct species from the brown bear of Europe; and he is altogether a smaller and more mild-tempered animal.

As the grand “chasse” had been arranged to come off on the third day after their arrival, our young hunters determined to employ the interval in ranging the neighbouring woods; not with any expectation of finding a bear—as their host did not believe there was any so near—but rather for the purpose of becoming acquainted with the character of the North Americansylva.

That of South America Alexis had carefully observed and studied in their long journey across that continent. He had noted the grand tropical trees—the palms andpothosplants—themimosasandmusaceae—the magnificent forms of thelombaxandbertholletia—the curiouscecropiasand fig-trees—the giantcedrelasand the gum-yieldingsiphonias. On the Andes he had observed the agaves, the cycads, and cactaceae—all strange to the eye of a Russian. He was now desirous of making himself familiar with the forests of North America; which, though of a sub-tropical character in Louisiana, contained forms altogether different from those of the Amazonian regions. Here he would meet with the famed magnolia, and its relative the tulip-tree; the catalpa and flowering cornel, the giant cypress and sycamore, the evergreen oak, the water-loving tupelo, and the curious fan-like palmetto. Of these, and many other beautiful trees belonging to the North Americansylva, Alexis had read—in fact, knew them botanically; but he wished to cultivate a still pleasanter acquaintance with them, by visiting them in their own native home.

For this purpose he and Ivan set out alone, with only a negro for their guide; the planter being engaged, visiting his different friends, and warning them for the grand hunt.

Pouchskin remained behind. He had been left at the house—to do some necessary repairs to the travelling traps both of himself and his young masters, which, after their long South American expedition, needed looking to. At this work had Pouchskin been left, surrounded by a circle of grinning darkies, in whose company the old grenadier would find material to interest and amuse him.

It was only for a stroll that our young hunters had sallied forth, and without any design of entering upon the chase; but they had become so accustomed to carrying their guns everywhere, that these were taken along with them. Some curious bird or quadruped might be started—whose fur or feathers they might fancy to make an examination of. For that reason, both shouldered their guns.

Chapter Thirty Nine.The Lone Lagoon.They were soon beyond the bounds of the plantation, and walking under the dark majestic woods—the darkey guiding them on their way. They had heard of a curious lake or lagoon, that lay about a mile from the plantation. There they would be likely to witness a spectacle characteristic of the swamps of Louisiana; and thither they directed their steps.Sure enough, on arriving at the borders of the lagoon, a singular scene was presented to their eyes. The whole surface of the lake appeared alive with various forms of birds and reptiles. Hundreds of alligators were seen, lying like dead trees upon the water, their corrugated backs appearing above the surface. Most of them, however, were in motion, swimming to and fro, or darting rapidly from point to point, as if in pursuit of prey. Now and then their huge tails could be seen curling high up in air, and then striking down upon the water, causing a concussion that echoed far through the forest. At intervals a shining object, flung upward by their tails, could be seen for a moment in the air, amidst the showery spray that was raised along with it. It was easy to see that the glittering forms thus projected were fishes, and that it was the pursuit of these that was causing the commotion among the huge reptiles. Aquatic birds, of a great number of kinds, were equally busy in the pursuit of the fish. Huge pelicans stood up to their tibia in the water—now and then immersing their long mandibles and tossing their finny victims high into the air. Cranes and herons too were there—among others the tall Louisiana crane—conspicuous among the smaller species—snow-white egrets, the wood ibis, and others of white and roseate hue—the snake-darter, with long pointed beak and crouching serpent-like neck—the qua-bird, of lugubrious note and melancholy aspect—and, fairest of all, the scarlet flamingo.Other birds besides those of aquatic habits took part in the odd spectacle. Hovering in the air were black vultures—the carrion crow and the turkey-buzzard—and upon the tops of tall dead trees could be seen the king of the feathered multitude, the great white-headed eagle. His congener, the osprey, soared craftily above—at intervals swooping down, and striking his talons into the fish, which the alligators had tossed into the air—thus robbing the reptiles of their prey, to be robbed in turn by his watchful cousin-german upon the tree. The spectacle was far from being a silent one: on the contrary, the confused chorus of sounds was deafening to the ears of the spectators. The hoarse bellowing of the alligators—the concussions made by their great tails striking the water—the croaking of the pelicans, and the clattering of their huge mandibles—the doleful screaming of the herons, cranes, and qua-birds—the shrieks of the osprey—and the shrill maniac laughter of the white-headed eagle, piercing through all other sounds—formed a medley of voices as unearthly as inharmonious.A shot from the gun of Ivan, that brought down a splendid specimen of the white-headed eagle—together with the appearance of the hunters by the edge of the water—put a sudden termination to this grand drama of the wilderness. The birds flew up into the air, and went soaring off in different directions over the tops of the tall trees; while the huge reptiles, that had been taught by the alligator hunters to fear the presence of man, desisted for a while from their predatory prey, and retreated to the reeds upon the opposite shore.The spectacle was one well worthy of being seen, and one that cannot be witnessed every day—even in the swamps of Louisiana. Its occurrence at that time was accounted for by the drying up of the lake, which left the fish at the mercy of their numerous enemies.Having taken up the eagle which Ivan had shot, the young hunters continued their excursion along the edge of the lagoon.They had not gone far when they came upon a bank of mud, that had formerly been covered with water. So recently had the water dried from it, that, in spite of the hot sun shining down upon it, the mud was still soft. They had not gone many steps further, when they perceived upon its surface, what at first they supposed to be the tracks of a man. On getting a little closer, however, they doubted this; and, now recollecting the resemblance which they had noticed in the snows of Lapland—between the footsteps of a human being and those of a bear—it occurred to them that these might also be bear-tracks—though they knew that the tracks of the American bear would be slightly different from those of his European cousin.To satisfy themselves, they hastened forward to examine the tracks; but their negro guide had anticipated them, and now called out, with the whites of his eyes considerably enlarged—“Golly, young mass’rs! dat be de tracks ob um ba!”“A bear!”“Ya, ya, mass’rs! a big ba—dis child know um track—see’d um many de time—de ole coon he be arter de fish too—all ob dem a-doin’ a bit ob fishin’ dis mornin’—yaw, yaw, yaw!”And the darkey laughed at what he appeared to consider an excellent joke.On closely scrutinising the tracks, Alexis and Ivan saw that they were in reality the tracks of a bear—though much smaller than those they had followed in Lapland. They were quite fresh—in fact, so recently did they appear to have been made, that both at the same time, and by an involuntary impulse, raised their eyes from the ground and glanced around them; as if they expected to see the bear himself.No such animal was in sight, however. It was quite probable he had been on the ground, at their first coming up to the lake; but the report of Ivan’s gun had alarmed him, and he had made off into the woods. This was quite probable.“What a pity,” reflected Ivan, “that I didn’t leave the eagle alone! We might have got sight of Master Bruin, and given him the shot instead. And now,” added he, “what’s to be done? There’s no snow,—therefore we can’t track the brute. The mud bank ends here, and he’s gone off it, the way he came? Of course he wouldn’t be out yonder among those logs? He wouldn’t have taken shelter there, would he?”As Ivan spoke, he pointed to a little peninsula that jutted out into the lake, some twenty or thirty yards beyond the spot where they were standing. It was joined to the mainland by a narrow neck or isthmus of mud; but at the end towards the water there was a space of several yards covered with dead trees—that had been floated thither in the floods, and now lay high and dry, piled irregularly upon one another.Alexis looked in the direction of this pile as Ivan pointed it out.“I’m not so sure of that,” he answered, after scrutinising the logs. “It’s a likely enough place for an animal to lurk. He might be there?”“Let us go and see, then!” said Ivan. “If he’s there he can’t escape us, without our having a shot at him; and you say that these American bears are much easier killed than ours. The South Americans were so, certainly. I hope their northern brothers may die as easy.”“Not all,” rejoined Alexis. “We may expect some tough struggles when we come to the great grizzly, and to him of the polar regions; but the black bears are, as you conjecture, not so difficult to deal with. If wounded, however, they will show fight; and, though their teeth and claws are less dangerous than the others, they can give a man a most uncomfortable hug, I have heard. But let us go, as you say. If not yonder, he must have taken to the woods. In that case there is no way of following him up, except by dogs; and for these we must go back to the house.”As they continued talking, they advanced towards the narrow isthmus that connected the little peninsula with the mainland.“What a pity,” remarked Ivan, “that that great log is there! But for it we might have seen his track in the mud crossing over.”Ivan referred to a prostrate trunk that traversed the isthmus longitudinally—extending from the mainland to the higher ground of the peninsula, to which it formed a kind of bridge or causeway. Certainly, had it not been there, either the bear’s tracks would have been seen in the mud or not; and if not, then no bear could have passed over to the peninsula, and their exploration would have been unnecessary. But, although they saw no tracks, they had started to examine the wood pile; and they continued on, climbing up to the log, and walking along its top.All at once, Alexis was seen to pause and bend his body forward and downward.“What is it?” inquired Ivan, who was behind, on seeing his brother in the bent attitude, as if he looked at something on the log.“The bear’s tracks!” answered Alexis, in a low but earnest tone.“Ha! you think so? Where?”Alexis pointed to the dead-wood under his eyes—upon the bark of which were visible, not the tracks of a bear, but dabs of mud, that must have been recently deposited there, either by the feet of a bear, or some other animal.“By the Great Peter!” said Ivan, speaking cautiously, notwithstanding his innocent adjuration; “that must be his tracks? It’s the same sort of mud as that in which we’ve just been tracing him—black as ink nearly. It has come off his great paws—not a doubt of it, brother?”“I think it is likely,” assented Alexis, at the same time that both looked to the locks of their guns, and saw that the caps were on the nipples.A little further along the log, the bark was smoother, and there the track was still more conspicuous. The print was better denned, and answered well for the footmark of a bear. There was the naked paw, and the balls of the five toes, all complete. They no longer doubted that it was the track of a bear.It was just a question whether the animal had gone over the log and returned again. But this was set at rest, or nearly so, by a closer scrutiny. There was no sign of a return track. True, he might have washed his paws in the interval, or cleaned them on the dead-wood; but that was scarce probable, and our hunters did not think so. They felt perfectly sure that the bear was before them; and, acting upon this belief, they cocked their guns, and continued their approach towards the wood pile.

They were soon beyond the bounds of the plantation, and walking under the dark majestic woods—the darkey guiding them on their way. They had heard of a curious lake or lagoon, that lay about a mile from the plantation. There they would be likely to witness a spectacle characteristic of the swamps of Louisiana; and thither they directed their steps.

Sure enough, on arriving at the borders of the lagoon, a singular scene was presented to their eyes. The whole surface of the lake appeared alive with various forms of birds and reptiles. Hundreds of alligators were seen, lying like dead trees upon the water, their corrugated backs appearing above the surface. Most of them, however, were in motion, swimming to and fro, or darting rapidly from point to point, as if in pursuit of prey. Now and then their huge tails could be seen curling high up in air, and then striking down upon the water, causing a concussion that echoed far through the forest. At intervals a shining object, flung upward by their tails, could be seen for a moment in the air, amidst the showery spray that was raised along with it. It was easy to see that the glittering forms thus projected were fishes, and that it was the pursuit of these that was causing the commotion among the huge reptiles. Aquatic birds, of a great number of kinds, were equally busy in the pursuit of the fish. Huge pelicans stood up to their tibia in the water—now and then immersing their long mandibles and tossing their finny victims high into the air. Cranes and herons too were there—among others the tall Louisiana crane—conspicuous among the smaller species—snow-white egrets, the wood ibis, and others of white and roseate hue—the snake-darter, with long pointed beak and crouching serpent-like neck—the qua-bird, of lugubrious note and melancholy aspect—and, fairest of all, the scarlet flamingo.

Other birds besides those of aquatic habits took part in the odd spectacle. Hovering in the air were black vultures—the carrion crow and the turkey-buzzard—and upon the tops of tall dead trees could be seen the king of the feathered multitude, the great white-headed eagle. His congener, the osprey, soared craftily above—at intervals swooping down, and striking his talons into the fish, which the alligators had tossed into the air—thus robbing the reptiles of their prey, to be robbed in turn by his watchful cousin-german upon the tree. The spectacle was far from being a silent one: on the contrary, the confused chorus of sounds was deafening to the ears of the spectators. The hoarse bellowing of the alligators—the concussions made by their great tails striking the water—the croaking of the pelicans, and the clattering of their huge mandibles—the doleful screaming of the herons, cranes, and qua-birds—the shrieks of the osprey—and the shrill maniac laughter of the white-headed eagle, piercing through all other sounds—formed a medley of voices as unearthly as inharmonious.

A shot from the gun of Ivan, that brought down a splendid specimen of the white-headed eagle—together with the appearance of the hunters by the edge of the water—put a sudden termination to this grand drama of the wilderness. The birds flew up into the air, and went soaring off in different directions over the tops of the tall trees; while the huge reptiles, that had been taught by the alligator hunters to fear the presence of man, desisted for a while from their predatory prey, and retreated to the reeds upon the opposite shore.

The spectacle was one well worthy of being seen, and one that cannot be witnessed every day—even in the swamps of Louisiana. Its occurrence at that time was accounted for by the drying up of the lake, which left the fish at the mercy of their numerous enemies.

Having taken up the eagle which Ivan had shot, the young hunters continued their excursion along the edge of the lagoon.

They had not gone far when they came upon a bank of mud, that had formerly been covered with water. So recently had the water dried from it, that, in spite of the hot sun shining down upon it, the mud was still soft. They had not gone many steps further, when they perceived upon its surface, what at first they supposed to be the tracks of a man. On getting a little closer, however, they doubted this; and, now recollecting the resemblance which they had noticed in the snows of Lapland—between the footsteps of a human being and those of a bear—it occurred to them that these might also be bear-tracks—though they knew that the tracks of the American bear would be slightly different from those of his European cousin.

To satisfy themselves, they hastened forward to examine the tracks; but their negro guide had anticipated them, and now called out, with the whites of his eyes considerably enlarged—

“Golly, young mass’rs! dat be de tracks ob um ba!”

“A bear!”

“Ya, ya, mass’rs! a big ba—dis child know um track—see’d um many de time—de ole coon he be arter de fish too—all ob dem a-doin’ a bit ob fishin’ dis mornin’—yaw, yaw, yaw!”

And the darkey laughed at what he appeared to consider an excellent joke.

On closely scrutinising the tracks, Alexis and Ivan saw that they were in reality the tracks of a bear—though much smaller than those they had followed in Lapland. They were quite fresh—in fact, so recently did they appear to have been made, that both at the same time, and by an involuntary impulse, raised their eyes from the ground and glanced around them; as if they expected to see the bear himself.

No such animal was in sight, however. It was quite probable he had been on the ground, at their first coming up to the lake; but the report of Ivan’s gun had alarmed him, and he had made off into the woods. This was quite probable.

“What a pity,” reflected Ivan, “that I didn’t leave the eagle alone! We might have got sight of Master Bruin, and given him the shot instead. And now,” added he, “what’s to be done? There’s no snow,—therefore we can’t track the brute. The mud bank ends here, and he’s gone off it, the way he came? Of course he wouldn’t be out yonder among those logs? He wouldn’t have taken shelter there, would he?”

As Ivan spoke, he pointed to a little peninsula that jutted out into the lake, some twenty or thirty yards beyond the spot where they were standing. It was joined to the mainland by a narrow neck or isthmus of mud; but at the end towards the water there was a space of several yards covered with dead trees—that had been floated thither in the floods, and now lay high and dry, piled irregularly upon one another.

Alexis looked in the direction of this pile as Ivan pointed it out.

“I’m not so sure of that,” he answered, after scrutinising the logs. “It’s a likely enough place for an animal to lurk. He might be there?”

“Let us go and see, then!” said Ivan. “If he’s there he can’t escape us, without our having a shot at him; and you say that these American bears are much easier killed than ours. The South Americans were so, certainly. I hope their northern brothers may die as easy.”

“Not all,” rejoined Alexis. “We may expect some tough struggles when we come to the great grizzly, and to him of the polar regions; but the black bears are, as you conjecture, not so difficult to deal with. If wounded, however, they will show fight; and, though their teeth and claws are less dangerous than the others, they can give a man a most uncomfortable hug, I have heard. But let us go, as you say. If not yonder, he must have taken to the woods. In that case there is no way of following him up, except by dogs; and for these we must go back to the house.”

As they continued talking, they advanced towards the narrow isthmus that connected the little peninsula with the mainland.

“What a pity,” remarked Ivan, “that that great log is there! But for it we might have seen his track in the mud crossing over.”

Ivan referred to a prostrate trunk that traversed the isthmus longitudinally—extending from the mainland to the higher ground of the peninsula, to which it formed a kind of bridge or causeway. Certainly, had it not been there, either the bear’s tracks would have been seen in the mud or not; and if not, then no bear could have passed over to the peninsula, and their exploration would have been unnecessary. But, although they saw no tracks, they had started to examine the wood pile; and they continued on, climbing up to the log, and walking along its top.

All at once, Alexis was seen to pause and bend his body forward and downward.

“What is it?” inquired Ivan, who was behind, on seeing his brother in the bent attitude, as if he looked at something on the log.

“The bear’s tracks!” answered Alexis, in a low but earnest tone.

“Ha! you think so? Where?”

Alexis pointed to the dead-wood under his eyes—upon the bark of which were visible, not the tracks of a bear, but dabs of mud, that must have been recently deposited there, either by the feet of a bear, or some other animal.

“By the Great Peter!” said Ivan, speaking cautiously, notwithstanding his innocent adjuration; “that must be his tracks? It’s the same sort of mud as that in which we’ve just been tracing him—black as ink nearly. It has come off his great paws—not a doubt of it, brother?”

“I think it is likely,” assented Alexis, at the same time that both looked to the locks of their guns, and saw that the caps were on the nipples.

A little further along the log, the bark was smoother, and there the track was still more conspicuous. The print was better denned, and answered well for the footmark of a bear. There was the naked paw, and the balls of the five toes, all complete. They no longer doubted that it was the track of a bear.

It was just a question whether the animal had gone over the log and returned again. But this was set at rest, or nearly so, by a closer scrutiny. There was no sign of a return track. True, he might have washed his paws in the interval, or cleaned them on the dead-wood; but that was scarce probable, and our hunters did not think so. They felt perfectly sure that the bear was before them; and, acting upon this belief, they cocked their guns, and continued their approach towards the wood pile.

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