138 



FOUR-HANDED FOLK 



hardly bear to leave her. A fright threw her 

 into an agony of terror, and one night I sprang 

 from my bed in terror myself, for I thought she 

 was being murdered. I fancied that nothing 

 less than a jaguar from the woods had hold of 

 her, from the noise she made. 



The instant I opened my door she sprang 

 upon me, throwing her arms so tightly around 

 my neck I could scarcely breathe, much less get 

 away. I took her to my room and found that a 

 bat had bitten her and caused all this alarm. I 

 laughed at her, and tried to get her back into 

 her own quarters, but she made so great an ado 

 that I could not accomplish it, and that night she 

 passed in my room. A thunder-storm drove her 

 nearly wild, which is not so much to be wondered 

 at, for storms in that country are terrific. Even 

 the family gathered in one room, where Gila 

 always cried to accompany them, and I always 

 allowed her to do so. 



She was a most sociable creature and much 

 company for me. I used to talk to her, and she 

 always responded and appeared to enjoy it. I 

 took pleasure in showing pictures to her, and 

 of this she was exceedingly fond. She would 

 pore over my photograph album, examine slowly 

 every picture, and look so wise that I could 

 hardly believe she had not her own opinions 

 about the faces it contained. 



