A STEP-CHILD OF NATURE. gl 



grip when a well-aimed stone crushed his head visibly 

 and audibly. But with a good rifle you may dislodge 

 the most tenacious tardo by hitting his branch some- 

 where below his foothold, for a fractured caucho-stick 

 will snap like a cabbage-stalk. Thus displanted, the 

 falling sloth clutches at the empty air or snaps off twig 

 after twig in his headlong descent, but generally man- 

 ages to fetch up on one of the stout lower branches, and 

 at once hugs it with all the energy of his prehensile 

 organs; and there he hangs, within easy reach of your 

 arm, perhaps, but without betraying the slightest concern 

 at your approach. The human voice has no terrors for 

 the stoic tardigrade ; menacing gestures fail to impress 

 him. A blank cartridge exploded under his nose will 

 hardly make him wink, unless the powder should singe 

 his eyelids. He permits you to lift his claw, but drops 

 it as soon as you withdraw your hand. If you prod 

 him, he breaks forth in a nioan that seems to express a 

 lament over the painfulness of earthly affairs in general 

 rather than resentment of your particular act. By and 

 by his love of caloric may lure him back to the sunny 

 side of the tree, but no incentives a tergo will accelerate 

 his movements. His claws are a quarter of a foot long 

 and rigidly tenacious, and, once unhooked, he forthwith 

 transfers his attachment to your own person. After 

 spreading his talons fan-shape, he clasps your arm with 

 an intimacy that seems intended to reassure you of his 

 peaceful intentions, but will gradually draw himself well 



