Camping in Sovith America 
By FRANCIS C. NICHOLAS 
Getting Meat for Supper 
I T IS exciting, but not sportsmanlike I sup¬ 
pose, and there is a great difference in kill¬ 
ing game because one wants something to 
eat and in killing for the sport of it. At any 
rate I know that one hunts harder and does 
not kill so much; further than this one comes 
to look on the wild creatures in the jungles 
about camp in somewhat the same spirit as a 
land owner will look over his flocks and herds;' 
they are to be used, of course, but not wasted. 
One day in February—when the air was still, 
the sun burning hot, and the streams under the 
influence of the prolonged dry season had 
shrunken to their lowest, presenting to the eye 
long open courses of burning sunlight where 
dry water-worn boulders were glistening, and 
quivering lines of heat rose up between the 
silent trees of the jungles—I stopped to camp, 
well tired from the day's explorations. Dust 
was in the air, and dry leaves rustled under the 
feet, hut the trees were still green, though many 
of them drooping sadly in the exposed places. 
A litle way in the jungle, however, there was 
a cooling influence in the air and a sense of 
security; and the. sun’s burning* rays were shut 
out, and the ground protected by the overhang¬ 
ing canopy of vegetation still retained some 
moisture. Such were the surroundings when 
I stopped with my men that day in February 
at the foot of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Maria 
Mountains in Colombia. 
We had not been many days in the woods, 
but I had come to trust my guides, and was 
glad we had the prospect of a long experience 
before us. It seemed rather strange when we 
had started not to carry a big supply of pro¬ 
visions, particularly the sun-dried beef which 
is such a staple article of food in Spanish 
America. If the men were willing to take the 
chances, I had found no objection, and each 
day some game had been killed, but for once 
we had failed ; and here we were in the junele 
with only a small supply of plantain, a fruit like 
an overgrown banana, but not sweet, and so 
nutritious that two are considered a meal for 
any man. M e had besides the plantain a few 
wild yams gathered in the woods, and the great 
bud of a giant palm tree which had been chopoed 
down by one of the men. A vegetarian diet 
this, and after a hard day's work, too, in tramp¬ 
ing along streams where the water was shrink¬ 
ing from the sun and the air was blistering hot, 
or cutting one’s way through dense jungles 
where the shade seemed parching with thirst. 
I was tired and dirty, and wanted more than 
just boiled vegetables, and said so. 
The captain of my party, an old woodman, 
named Lopez, looked up from his work and 
said, mild surprise in his voice, “But we will 
have meat. What made you think that we did 
not eat meat to-day?’’ And he began to reckon 
up dates that assurance might be had that no 
fast day had been forgotten. “What can the 
Senor Doctor be thinking of?” he said, and then 
went on with his task preparing bijucas (climb- 
ingvine withes) to tie the palm leaves with 
which our camp was to be thatched. 
All the men were working, but not very hard; 
mostly they were listening. There were six of 
us: Lopez and his two sons, his grandson, a 
boy of twelve, who was as keen for the woods 
as the best of them, and a young man called 
Viejo (old), a low-statured giant of strength 
such as one rarely sees, not an ounce of fat on 
his body, yet appearing sometimes as if his 
breadth were greater than his height. Grotesque 
almost was his appearance, but that day I had 
learned to appreciate his powers, for we had 
crossed a low swamp where some places were 
not entirely dry and the mud was deep. The 
men could pick their way without much diffi¬ 
culty, but I found it hard work. Boots were 
not made for easy walking in a swamp; they 
are only to protect the feet. Once I slipped 
off the root of a tree into the mud, and Viejo 
pulled me out, set me on a log, backed his broad 
shoulders around, motioned to get on, and the 
next instant T was being carried through the 
swamp as easilv as if my weight were noth¬ 
ing, yet I am a little over six feet and built with 
the average. 
These were mv men. working now all of them 
but with little attention, for they were listening 
eaeerly. Something was up. I did not know 
what, but presently was listening, too. A little 
bird was chirping in the trees, the air was 
heavy, the declining sun came peening under 
the branches casting red beams of light among 
long shadows, the breeze stirred now and again, 
the sound of our intrusion in preparing camp 
jarred on the atmosphere where the influences 
were of silence and solitude. Presentlv a little 
pattering sound came from among the trees, 
hesitated, was heard again, and then came 
directlv toward us. Eagerly I waited, but it 
was only one of the dogs returning to camp 
with inquiring expression, evidently to ask for 
something to eat. He poked his nose, against 
his master’s legs and wagged his tail. Viejo 
gave a grunt of disapproval and a savage back 
kick at his dog with a command to go and hunt. 
The dog dodged the kick as if he had expected 
it, hung around reluctant for a moment, and 
then trotted off among the bushes. 
Presently another dog came back, but he too 
was ordered off, and the work of building camp 
proceeded. Then from up the stream came the 
sound of one of the dogs in full cry, another 
joined and Lopez shouted, “Agua tenaja,” and 
the men started on a run following the sound, 
a baying of dogs evidently in pursuit of some¬ 
thing. We all went, even the hoy, helter skelter 
through the woods, excitement and energy con¬ 
tending to speed our way; nor did we even stop 
to think of snakes, though places we would 
have cautiously avoided under ordinary circum¬ 
stances were constantly encountered. We scram¬ 
bled under fallen trees too big to climb over, 
cut our way through thick clumps of ferns, and 
stopped at nothing on a chase of about a mile, 
and then came up to where the dogs were hold¬ 
ing a carnival of excitement around a hollow 
tree, baying their throats out while attacking 
its base, scratching and tearing at the roots, 
circling about and tumbling over each other in 
their eagerness, doubling their energies as we 
came in sight. 
The long machetes were drawn, keen, heavy 
blades in skillful hands. Viejo and one of the 
Lopez boys stood either side of the opening 
which gave access to the hollow tree. The little 
boy sat resting on a great stone by the brook, 
but at a sign from Lopez went scurrying away 
to the woods, and in a few moments returned 
with an armful of leaves from a resinous plant, 
which were piled at the opening of the hollow 
tree, and soon a pungent smoke was filling the ' 
opening. The dogs were watching now, turn¬ 
ing their heads a little to one side at times, and 
showing eager white teeth. A scratching and 
a squealing soon began in the tree. It sounded 
as though dozens of animals had sought pro¬ 
tection there. Then a sudden commotion and 
out darted an animal looking something like a 
small pig and a great rat all in one. Viejo 1 
struck at it and missed ; so did young Lopez, so 
quick was its flight that the animal had disap¬ 
peared before even the dogs realized that one 
had come out, but the next instant they were 
in full chase. Immediately another animal 
showed itself. This one was killed, then an¬ 
other and another; three sleek drab-brown ani¬ 
mals, and immediately the fire was pushed aside 
from the tree. 
“There are more, plenty more,” I shouted. I 
“Keep on and we will get more.” 
Viejo began replacing the smoking leaves and 
fagots, but old Lopez said, “Three agua tenaja 
