appearance of the yellow
tinge the whole would disappear. When the tree is felled, a square
portion of the bark is cut out longitudinally from the original
incision upwards, and its fibrous texture laid open. Myriads of worms
are then seen voraciously devouring their way through the substance.
In capturing them some degree of dexterity is necessary, both to
protect one's self from the mandibles of the insects, which inflict a
painful bite, and also to save time, by preventing them from burrowing
out of sight. When the worms are taken, they are placed into a close
vessel, where they continue to retain their activity and vigour.

The number that can be procured from a single tree, depends altogether
upon the season in which it is wounded. If the moon is at her full,
they are generally numerous and good--many thousands being found in an
ordinary young tree of 25 feet in height. If a few succeed in eluding
the gatherer, they do so only to become a prey of as voracious
animals, for the wild hogs, or _quencos_, of the forest relish much
the soft substance of the palmiste when in a state of decomposition.
It never happens, therefore, that much time passes before they
discover any palmiste-tree that has been felled; and as soon as night
sets in, they flock in numbers to the spot and devour the whole
substance. A gathering of worms, therefore, brings a hunt of quencos;
and the gatherer, when his first business is over, chooses a
convenient tree, where he places himself in ambush. Seated on a cross
branch, he awaits the coming of the animals.

It is difficult to form an idea of the peculiar excitement of this
midnight sport in the thick woods of a tropical country. The usual
stillness of the night, and the solitude of the wilderness--the
croaking of the night-birds, the movement of every leaf, animated as
it is by the myriads of nocturnal insects that fill the
atmosphere--the brilliant and fleeting fire-flies traversing the
gloom--the strange animals wandering in their nightly prowlings--the
approach of the grunting hogs, and the incidents of the hunt: all
these things, combined with the idea of isolation when a man finds
himself alone in the wilds of a scarcely pervious forest, create an
inexpressible feeling of mingled fear, pleasure, and anxiety.

Before the worms are cooked, they are, each in its turn, carefully
pricked with an orange-thorn, and thrown into a vessel containing a
sauce of lime-juice and salt. This is for t