thicket towards the spot where the jaguar had been killed.

We advanced rapidly; then slower and slower. The great dog at first had
been very brave, but the closer we came to the spot we were looking
for, the more timid the dog became, until it uttered a fearful yell
of fright, and with its tail between its legs slunk back. There was
nothing to do but to leave the contemptible brute alone with its fear,
so we pushed ahead. Suddenly we came to the place, but there was no
jaguar. There were plenty of evidences of the struggle. The mutilated
body of a beautiful marsh-deer was lying on the moist ground, pieces of
fur and flesh were scattered around, and the blood had even spurted on
the surrounding leaves and branches. Francisco had wounded the jaguar,
no doubt--at least he said so, but plainly he had not killed it nor
disabled it to such extent that it had remained on the spot.

We commenced searching in the underbrush, for it was evident it could
not be far off. The bloody track could be followed for some distance;
in fact, in one place the thorny roots of the remarkable _pachiuba_
palm-tree, the roots that the women here use for kitchen graters,
had torn off a bunch of long, beautiful hair from the sides of the
jaguar, which very likely was weak and was dragging itself to some
cluster of trees where it could be safe, or else to find a point of
vantage to fall upon its pursuers.

We searched for some time. The forest was growing dark, and the many
noises of the night began. First came the yelping of the toucan, which
sounded like the carefree yap-yap of some clumsy little pup. Then
came the chattering of the night monkeys and the croaking of the
thousands of frogs that hide in the swamps. And still no traces of the
jaguar. Again we separated. The dog had run home utterly scared. Now