192 Through the Brazihan Wilderness 



encountered huge black ants, an inch and a quarter long, 

 which were very vicious, and their bite was not only pain- 

 ful but quite poisonous. Praying-mantes were common, 

 and one evening at supper one had a comical encounter 

 with a young dog, a jovial near-puppy, of Colonel Ron- 

 don's, named Cartucho. He had been christened the 

 jolly-cum-pup, from a character in one of Frank Stock- 

 ton's stories, which I suppose are now remembered only 

 by elderly people, and by them only if they are natives of 

 the United States. Cartucho was lying with his head on 

 the ox-hide that served as table, waiting with poorly dis- 

 sembled impatience for his share of the banquet. The 

 mantis flew down on the ox-hide and proceeded to crawl 

 over it, taking little flights from one corner to another; 

 and whenever it thought itself menaced it assumed an 

 attitude of seeming devotion and real defiance. Soon it 

 lit in front of Cartucho's nose. Cartucho cocked his big 

 ears forward, stretched his neck, and cautiously sniffed 

 at the new arrival, not with any hostile design, but merely 

 to find out whether it would prove to be a playmate. The 

 mantis promptly assumed an attitude of prayer. This 

 struck Cartucho as both novel and interesting, and he 

 thrust his sniffing black nose still nearer. The mantis 

 dexterously thrust forward first one and then the other 

 armed fore leg, touching the intrusive nose, which was 

 instantly jerked back and again slowly and inquiringly 

 brought forward. Then the mantis suddenly flew in 

 Cartucho's face, whereupon Cartucho, with a smothered 

 yelp of dismay, almost turned a back somersault; and 

 the triumphant mantis flew back to the middle of the ox- 



