ls. "It is very
good to eat--as good as chicken. This is not a very big one; they are
sometimes five feet long, but almost quite harmless,--not venomous at
all; and the only means he has to defend himself is the tail, which is
very powerful, and gives a tremendously hard blow; but, as you see, if
you catch him quick, he can do nothing."

"It's all very well for you, or even Barney here, to talk of catching
him by the tail," said Martin, smiling; "but it would have puzzled me to
swing that fellow round my head."

"Arrah! ye're right, boy; I doubt if I could have done it mesilf," said
Barney.

"No fear," said the hermit patting Martin's broad shoulders as he passed
him and led the way; "you will be strong enough for that very soon,--as
strong as me in a year or two."

They now proceeded down into a somewhat dark and closely wooded valley,
through which meandered a small rivulet. Here they had some difficulty
in forcing their way through the dense under-wood and broad leaves, most
of which seemed very strange to Martin and his comrade, being so
gigantic. There were also many kinds of ferns, which sometimes arched
over their heads and completely shut out the view, while some of them
crept up the trees like climbing-plants. Emerging from this, they came
upon a more open space, in the midst of which grew a number of majestic
trees.

"There are my cows!" said the hermit, pausing as he spoke, and pointing
towards a group of tall straight-stemmed trees that were the noblest in
appearance they had yet seen. "Good cows they are," he continued, going
up to one and making a notch in the bark with his axe: "they need no
feeding or looking after, yet, as you see, they are always ready to give
me cream."

While he spoke, a thick white liquid flowed from the notch in the bark
into a cocoa-nut drinking-cup, which the hermit always carried at his
girdle. In a few minutes he presented his visitors with a draught, of
what they declared was most excellent cream.

The masseranduba, or milk-tree, as it is called, is indeed one of the
most wonderful of all the extraordinary trees in the forests of Brazil,
and is one among many instances of the bountiful manner, in which God
provides for the wants of his creatures. No doubt this might with equal
truth be said of all the gifts that a beneficent Creator bestows upon
mankind; but when, as in the case of this milk-tree, the provision for
our wants comes in a singular and striking ma