3o8 NOTES OF A BOTANIST 
came on, and continued till past midnight. The 
other two men had gone to hunt, and they also 
returned just before the rain, bringing each of 
them a mutiin (curassow). We had also killed a 
mutiin on the way, so we were amply supplied with 
provisions. A fire was lit between the two huts 
and a stage erected over it on which to roast the 
mutiins, but unfortunately a sufficient stock of fuel 
had not been got together before the rain came, so 
that we passed more than half the night without 
fire. The position was sufficiently dismal. The rain 
rendered the air so cold that I found it impos- 
sible to sleep till near morning. To make it worse, 
I had no covering, having left my blanket in order 
that my men might have as small loads as possible. 
We were in the most utter darkness, for even at 
midday the place was illumined only by "a dim 
religious light," like that in an old cathedral, and 
now there was neither moon nor stars to pierce 
the thick gloom. We were serenaded by the 
lugubrious croaking of frogs until near midnight, 
to which the raindrops pattering on the leaves and 
plashing in the stream formed an appropriate 
accompaniment. Other sounds I could distinguish 
none, though at times I listened attentively. 
... At daybreak we heard a tiger (jaguar), 
but it was at a great distance ; but in the evening 
following after we came down from the serra, the 
two hunters plunged into the forest with their guns 
and fell on the track of a cutia (agouti), and whilst 
following this they unexpectedly came up with a 
tiger, who also seemed in chase of the cuti'a. The 
foremost hunter presented his piece, but it missed 
fire, and the tiger, instead of retreating, advanced 
