tting, and behind us the dark outlines of the trees
stood out against the orange-colored sky, while hundreds of birds were
warbling and twittering around. A dark shade spread over the horizon,
and all was solemn silence. Ere long the sky was glittering with stars,
and the moon rose slowly above the trees. Its pale light penetrated the
foliage, giving to the masses of leaves those fantastic shapes which
make one dream of a supernatural world. As the moon advanced higher, it
diffused more and more light over the scenery, and few spectacles could
be more splendid than such a tropical night as this.

The report of a gun suddenly cut short my reverie, and l'Encuerado's
shout of "Hiou! hiou!" summoned us to him. While I hurried Lucien along
as fast as I could, I heard some loud shouting, which almost smothered
the furious barking of the dog, and then saw my friend Sumichrast
grasping the throat of an animal which Gringalet was worrying.
Alongside, l'Encuerado was lying on the ground, pressing his right arm,
and uttering cries of pain. He had been bitten by the wounded otter
which he had attempted to catch hold of.

This was not the time to blame him, so I led l'Encuerado to the bivouac,
where I was reassured by an examination of the bite, which I had at
first feared was serious. After dressing the injured part, the Indian
seemed much relieved.

My friend--after Lucien had examined its broad muzzle and wide nostrils,
its smooth, black coat, and its feet, webbed like ducks--skinned the
game, and put it at once upon the spit. When the meat was cooked to a
nicety, I covered it over to protect it from insects, and then proposed
retiring, for I foresaw that the Indian would be unable to carry his
load the next day, and that either Sumichrast's patience or mine would
be taxed in taking his place; for we did not intend to prolong our stay
by the stream. Sleep surprised us ere this weighty question was solved.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: "L'Encuerado was pressing his arm, and uttering cries of
pain."]

FOOTNOTE:

[P] The air-pipes are two vessels, one on each side, extending the whole
length of the body, provided with branches and ramifications. They serve
for the reception and distribution of the air.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXIV.

A LABORIOUS TASK.--WILD LIME-TREES.--PIGEONS.--THE WEST INDIAN
CHERRY.--THE EARWIG.--SNAKES AND SERPENTS.--FIRST GLANCE AT THE
TERRE-CHAUDE.

"How is your arm now, l'Encuerado?"