was now thrust forward, as with
glittering eyes it watched an opening in the forest. Presently a slight
rustling was heard, and a beautiful stag came to quench its thirst after
the heat of the day. It came up fearlessly, and dipped its head to
drink. Again it lifted it up, and looked around. On a sudden it caught
sight of those beautiful eyes. Instantly its limbs began to tremble.
It seemed to have no power to fly, but stood looking with mute wonder at
the object which fascinated it. The monster uncoiled itself, and glided
from the tree. Still the stag did not attempt to fly, yet in fleetness
it could have outstripped the wind. There it stood, a willing victim.
In another moment the serpent had sprung upon it, and encircled it in
its monstrous folds. As we could not rescue the stag, and had no wish
to interfere with the serpent, we hurried from the spot. We were
already later than it was wise to remain from the village, but we could
not help stopping to listen to the delicious notes of a cinnamon-brown
bird, with head and neck of dark olive, which was perched on a bough
overhanging our path. Never from a feathered songster had I heard notes
more sweet or harmonious.

"It is the _organista_," said our guide. "Hurry on, Senores, hurry on,
his note forebodes a coming storm; and, from the glimpses I have caught
of the sky between the trees, I fear that we shall have one before we
reach the village."

We took the Indian's advice, for a storm in that wooded region was an
event to be avoided, and walked as fast as we could over the soft ground
towards home. We had not got far, when a cry from Pedro, who was a
little in our rear, made us stop. As we hurried back to him, we saw
that he was limping along as if in great pain, and trying to overtake
us; and at the same time I observed a snake winding its way along among
the trees at a rapid rate from us. It was about two feet long, and
covered with the most brilliant stripes of deep red, yellow, and black.
The Indian caught sight of the reptile at the same time.

"Ah! mercy, Heaven, mercy!" cried poor Pedro. "I have been bitten by
that deadly snake, and in a few minutes must die. Farewell, my friends,
farewell!"

"Courage, Senor, courage!" exclaimed the Indian; "I have some huaco cake
with me. Eat, eat, and you may yet live."

Saying this, he produced from his pocket some cake of the huaco leaves,
a piece of which he put into Pedro's mouth, and spreading som