had restrained his feelings of romance, and betaken himself with his
companions to the homeward track.

As the explorers were breakfasting in the morning on a squirrel and
a couple of birds shot among the vanished streets of San Gavan, a
disagreeable incident supervened. The wild Indians had disappeared
over-night. But now, seemingly born instantaneously from the trees, a
throng of Siriniris burst upon the scene, rushing up to the travelers,
straining them repeatedly in a rude embrace, then leaving them, then
assaulting them again, and accompanying every contact with the eternal
cry, _Siruta inta menea_--"Give me a knife." Each member of the troop
had now six savages at his heels, and they were not those of the day
before, but a new and rougher band. The chiefs of the party rushed
together and brandished their muskets. This forced the savages
to retire, but gave to the rencounter that hostile air which, in
consideration of the disparity of numbers, ought at all hazards to
have been avoided. The wild men quickly formed a circle around the
artillery. The latter, fearing for their porters and the precious
baggage, leaped through this circle and joined their servants, making
believe to cock their fire-arms. Upon this the Indians, half afraid of
the guns, vanished into the woods, first picking up whatever clothing
and utensils they could lay their hands on. In an instant they were
showing these trophies to their rightful owners from a safe distance,
laughing as if they would split their sides. One of the naked rascals
had seized a flannel undershirt of the colonel's, which was drying
on a branch. His efforts to introduce his great feet into the
sleeves were excruciating. Another savage had found a pair of linen
pantaloons, which he was endeavoring to put on like a coat, appearing
much embarrassed with the posterior portion, which completely masked
his face. Aragon had seen a young reprobate of his own age make off