de good shots, but before any of us can reload the
peccaries scamper away. All of us quickly descend from our perches and
rush after the retreating animals, loading our guns as we run, but our
brave foes suddenly halt and face us with a look of defiance, and again
make a gallant charge. How ignominious we appeared as we in our turn
beat a hurried retreat to the nearest trees, where, not having time or
finding conveniences for a climb, we were forced to imitate Jose's
example and face the enemy with knives; but the peccaries, after a
momentary pause, dashed onward and disappeared amidst the tall grass of
the borders of the swamps, crossed the marshes, and entered the jungle
of the _buritys_.

Although the whole thing happened within a few moments, there were quite
enough elements of danger to spice the sport, for, if in making our
retreat any of us had stumbled and fallen, the consequences must have
been serious, if not fatal. I prefer the pig sticking on mule-back with
our extemporized spears. We gave the _coup de grace_ to the wounded, but
many got away only partially damaged. We found our bag amounted to ten
pigs, all in excellent condition.

As Jose and his sons were anxious for another tussle, we proceeded up
the valley, and soon saw here and there a solitary grunter outside the
growth of palms and aquatic vegetation of the swamps; and frequent
grunts, heard amidst the groves, indicated the presence of considerable
numbers of our foes.

A little farther on, a spit of firm land, only covered with short grass,
extended to near the groves, but no one cared to venture so far from the
friendly sanctuary of the trees and possibly meet a huge anaconda coiled
up in the swamp.

Jose Grosso and one of our host's sons now returned to remain with the
animals, whilst we proceeded a little farther on in quest of a stray
peccary. We walked about a mile, but found not what we hoped for; but on
returning some peccaries were seen straying towards the hills in twos or
threes, homeward-bound to their lairs in the dells and grottos of the
sources of streams at the foot of the bluffs of the Chapadas. We worked
our way amidst the trees, and eventually obtained a few long shots, and
succeeded in bagging two more.

It became a question whether we should pursue our journey to enable me
to take my notes, and camp out and have another probable night-attack of
peccaries, or return to Mato Grande. I thought a night of peace and
quietness p