710 THE TROPICAL WORLD. 



the ox into the western hemisphere, where these useful animals, finding a new and 

 congenial home in the boundless savannas and pampas, which extend almost uninter- 

 ruptedly from the Apure to Patagonia, have multiplied to an incredible extent. Since 

 then the jaguar no longer considers the deer of the woods, the graceful agouti, or the 

 slow capybara as his chief prey, but rejoices in the blood of the steed or ox, and is 

 much more commonly met with in the herd-teeming savannas than in the comparatively 

 meagre hunting-grounds of the forest. 



Of all the carnivora of the New World, perhaps with the sole exception of the 

 grizzly and the polar bears, the tyrants of the North American solitudes, the jaguar is 

 the most formidable, resembling the panther by his spotted skin, but almost equaling 

 the Bengal tiger in size and power. He roams about at all times of the day, swims 

 over broad rivers, and even in the water proves a most dangerous foe, for when driven 

 to extremities he frequently turns against the boat, and forces his assailants to seek 

 their safety by jumping overboard. Many an Indian, while wandering through thinly 

 populated districts, where swampy thickets alternate with open grass plains, has been 

 torn to pieces by the jaguar, and in many a lonely plantation the inhabitants hardly 

 venture to leave their enclosures after sunset, for fear of his attacks. During Tschudi's 

 sojourn in Northern Peru, a jaguar penetrated into the hut of an Englishman who 

 had settled in those parts, and dragging a boy of ten years out of his hammock, tore 

 him to pieces and devoured him. Far from being afraid of man, this ferocious animal 

 springs upon him when alone, and when pressed by hunger will even venture during 

 the day-time into the mountain villages to seek its prey. The distinguished traveler 

 whom I have just quoted mentions the case of an Indian in the province of Vito, who 

 hearing during the night his only pig most piteously squealing, rose to see what was 

 the matter, and found that a jaguar had seized it by the head, and was about to carry 

 it away. Eager to rescue his property, he sprang forward, and seizing the pig by the 

 hind legs, disputed its possession with the beast of prey, that with eyes gleaming 

 through the darkness, and a ferocious growl, kept tugging at its head. This strange 

 struggle between the undaunted Indian and the jaguar lasted for some time, until the 

 women coming out of the hut with lighted torches put to flight the monster, which 

 slowly retreated into the forest. The same traveler relates that in some parts the 

 jaguars had increased to such a degree, and proved so destructive to the inhabitants, 

 that the latter were obliged to emigrate, and settle in less dangerous districts. Thus, 

 the village of Mayunmarca, near the road from Huanta to Anco, had been long since 

 abandoned, and the neighborhood was still considered so dangerous that few Indians 

 ventured to travel through it alone. 



The chase of these formidable animals requires great caution, yet keen sportsmen 

 will venture, single-handed, to seek the jaguar in his lair, armed with a blow-pipe and 

 poisoned arrows, or merely with a long and powerful lance. The praise which is due 

 to the bold adventurers for their courage is, however, too often tarnished by their 

 cruelty. Thus, a famous jaguar hunter once showed Poppig a large cavity under the 

 tangled roots of a giant bombax-tree, where he had some time back discovered a 

 female jaguar with her young. Dexterously rolling down a large stone, he closed the 

 entrance, and then with fiendish delight slowly smoked the animals to death, by apply- 

 ing fire from time to time to their dungeon. Having lost one half of his scalp in a 

 previous conflict with a jaguar, he pleaded his sufferings as an excuse for his barbarity. 



