270 HUNTING IN THE JUNGLE. 



Even while he was slaking his fever in long draughts 

 from the yellow stream, his bloody jaw dropped, his eyes 

 lost their light, and he rolled over dead, in the very spot 

 where I had watched him fishing at first. 



I took pleasure in making the cowardly native take 

 off his magnificent skin, which decorates my study floor 

 as I write. 



It was the beginning of the rainy season. Twenty 

 servants accompanied me, carrying provisions, arms, and 

 ammunition ; and my hunting-fever being on me, I was 

 resolved to see more of this interesting and beautiful 

 animal, the jaguar. 



The forest proved to be of an almost impenetrable 

 luxuriance, and the problem seemed to me to reach any 

 game, even when we knew they were near. I almost 

 resolved to try our old plan in Ceylon, where the same 

 conditions prevail, — of setting fire to the woods on three 

 sides of a square and stationing the hunters on the 

 fourth. 



The native ingenuity overcame this difficulty when the 

 time came, — namel}^, the second afternoon after we had 

 gone into camp. The peculiar cry of a jaguar was heard 

 at some distance in the forest, and immediately ni}^ head 

 guide detailed a native to perform the feat of drawing 

 him toward us. This fellow, naked save the cloth around 

 his middle, climbed a tall tree near us, like a squirrel. 

 From this height, seated astride a branch, he began to 

 imitate the calls and sobs of a young monkey in distress. 



