_tatou_ had run against the legs of one, and scraped it with the
sharp edge of his corslet. Whether this was the cause or no, a scuffle
commenced, and the beast in armour was attacked by all the vultures at
once.

Of course he did not attack in turn, he had no means; he acted
altogether on the defensive; and this he was enabled to do by simply
drawing in his legs and flattening himself upon the ground. He was then
proof, not only against the beaks and weak talons of a vulture, but he
might have defied the royal eagle himself.

After flapping him with their wings, and pecking him with their filthy
beaks, and clawing him with their talons, the zamuros saw it was all to
no purpose, and desisted. If they could not damage him, however, they
could prevent him from eating any more of the deer; for the moment he
stretched out his neck, several vultures sprang at him afresh, and would
have wounded him in the tender parts of his throat had he not quickly
drawn in his head again. Seeing that his feast was at an end--at least
above ground,--he suddenly raised his hind-quarters, and in a brace of
seconds buried himself in the earth. The vultures pecked him behind as
he disappeared, but the odd manner of his exit, like that of his
_entree_, seemed to mystify them, and several of them stood for some
moments in neck-stretched wonder.

This scene had scarcely ended when a pair of fresh armadillos were
espied, coming from the farther edge of the opening, and, in fact, from
the edge of a precipice, for the river flowed close by, and its channel
was at that point shut in by cliffs. These two were large fellows, and
were making speedily towards the carrion, in order to get up before it
was all gone. Guapo could stand it no longer Guapo had tasted roast
armadillo, and longed for more. In an instant, therefore, axe in hand,
he was off to intercept the new comers. Don Pablo and Leon followed to
see the sport and assist in the capture.

The armadillos, although not afraid of the vultures, seeing the hunters
approach, turned tail and made for the precipice. Guapo took after one,
while Don Pablo and Leon pursued the other. Guapo soon overhauled his
one, but, before he could lay his hands upon it, it had already half
buried itself in the dry ground. Guapo, however, seized the tail and
held on; and, although not able to drag it out, he was resolved it
should get no deeper.

The one pursued by Don Pablo had got close to the edge of