HUNTING THE JAGUAR 29 



was at that hushed hour when all nocturnal life 

 had repaired to its lair and the wild kindreds of 

 the day had not yet issued forth. 



In the gloom of the deep-shadowed shore 

 our long, narrow craft slid along with such in- 

 credible silence that it might well indeed have 

 been taken for one of the shifting shadows. 

 Glancing upward, a large bat flitted by a pass- 

 ing phantom form a bird shifted uneasily, and 

 then with a long, plaintive note broke the intense 

 silence. A lean dawn breeze drifted down the 

 river, bringing with it the fragrance of the for- 

 ests. 



Over the tips of the jungle far away to the 

 east the faintest tinge of mauve pink flooded 

 the sky; another day was asserting itself. The 

 sun slowly climbed into a clear sky, dispelling 

 the mists and turning the dew-bespeckled jungle 

 roof into a glowing, glistening blaze of glory. 



I looked out on what was to me a new world, 

 full of strange sights, sounds and creatures. 

 Rampart-like the forests rose on either side of the 

 river to a height of over a hundred feet. They 

 were so dense that it was not possible to see be- 

 yond the surface of their impenetrable walls. 

 Even so, they never grew tiresome. Fresh pano- 

 ramas appeared at every turn, for the forest 



