WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 301 



forest were collecting for the work of carnage. 

 Now, it is the tremendous roar of the jaguar, as 

 he springs on his prey: now it changes to his 

 terrible and deep-toned growlings as he is pressed 

 on all sides by superior force ; and now, you hear 

 his last dying moan, beneath a mortal wound. 



Some naturalists have supposed that these aw- 

 ful sounds, which you would fancy are those of en- 

 raged and dying wild beasts, proceed from a 

 number of the red monkeys howling in concert. 

 One of them alone is capable of producing all these 

 sounds; and the anatomists, on an inspection 

 of his trachea, will be fully satisfied that this is 

 the case. When you look at him, as he is sitting 

 on the branch of a tree, you will see a lump in 

 his throat, the size of a large hen's egg. In dark 

 and cloudy weather, and just before a squall of 

 rain, this monkey will often howl in the daytime ; 

 and if you advance cautiously, and get under the 

 high and tufted tree where he is sitting, you may 

 have a capital opportunity of witnessing his won- 

 derful powers of producing these dreadful and 

 discordant sounds. --, 



His flesh is good food; but when skinned, his 

 appearance is so like that of a young one of our 

 own species, that a delicate stomach might pos- 

 sibly revolt at the idea of putting a knife and 

 fork into it. However, I can affirm, from experi- 

 ence, that after a long and dreary march through 

 these remote forests, the flesh of this monkey is 

 not to be sneezed at, when boiled in Cayenne pep- 

 per, or roasted on a stick over a good fire. A 

 young one tastes not unlike a kid, and the old ones 

 have somewhat the flavour of he-goat. -^ 



