CHAPTER III 



Let us now return to natural history. There 

 was a person making shingles, with twenty or 

 thirty negroes, not far from Mibiri-hill. I had 

 offered a reward to any of them who would find a 

 good-sized snake in the forest, and come and let 

 me know where it was. Often had these negroes 

 looked for a large snake, and as often been dis- 

 appointed. 



One Sunday morning I met one of them in the 

 forest, and asked him which way he was going: 

 he said he was going towards Warratilla creek to 

 hunt an armadillo : and he had his little dog with 

 him. On coming back, about noon, the dog began 

 to bark at the root of a large tree, which had 

 been upset by the whirlwind, and was lying there 

 in a gradual state of decay. The negro said, he 

 thought his dog was barking at an acouri, which 

 had probably taken refuge under the tree, and he 

 went up with an intention to kill it : he there saw 

 a snake, and hastened back to inform me of it. 



The sun had just passed the meridian in a 

 cloudless sky; there was scarcely a bird to be 

 seen, for the winged inhabitants of the forest, as 

 though overcome by heat, had retired to the 

 thickest shade : all would have been like midnight 

 silence, were it not for the shrill voice of the 

 Pi-pi-yo, every now and then resounding from a 

 distant tree. I was sitting with a little Horace 



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