my,
the creature headed for the bank and climbed out. He stood for a moment
looking back into the stream. He appeared less cowed than angry and
disappointed. He seemed to vow a future revenge; and then seizing the
half-torn carcass of the capivara, he threw it lightly over his shoulder
and trotted off into the thicket.

Our travellers had not watched this scene either closely or
continuously. They had been too busy all the time. From its
commencement they had been doing all in their power to get away from the
spot; for they dreaded lest the jaguar might either first overpower the
crocodile and then attack them, or being beaten off by the latter, might
take it into his head to revenge himself by killing whatever he could.
With these apprehensions, therefore, they had hastily carried everything
aboard, and drawing in their cable, pushed the balza from the shore.
When the fight came to an end, they had got fairly into the current, and
just as the jaguar disappeared, the raft was gliding swiftly down the
broad and rippling stream.

CHAPTER FORTY.

ADVENTURE WITH AN ANACONDA.

For several days they voyaged down-stream, without any occurrence of
particular interest. Once or twice they saw Indians upon the shore; but
these, instead of putting off in their canoes, seemed frightened at so
large a craft, and remained by their "maloccas," or great
village-houses, in each of which several families live together. Not
caring to have any dealings with them, our travellers were only too glad
to get past without molestation; and, therefore, when they passed any
place where they thought they observed the signs of Indians on the bank,
they kept on for hours after, without stopping.

A curious incident occurred one evening as they were bringing the balza
to her moorings, which compelled them to drop a little farther
down-stream, and, in fact, almost obliged them to float all night, which
would have been a dangerous matter, as the current at the place happened
to be sharp and rapid.

They had been on the look-out for some time for a good camping-place, as
it was their usual hour to stop. No opening, however, appeared for
several miles. The banks on both sides were thickly-wooded to the
river's edge, and the branches of the trees even drooped into the water.
At length they came in sight of a natural raft that had been formed by
drift-wood in a bend of the stream; and as the logs lay thickly
together, and even piled upon