clinging to the sides of the tree.

At the sight of this shapeless beast, only fifty paces from us, Lucien
rushed to me in terror. Sumichrast had just cocked his gun, and the
noise made the ant-eater turn tail and prepare to run off, when it found
itself face to face with l'Encuerado. It stood up on its hind legs, with
its snout in the air, and then stretched out its arms ready to strike
any one who was imprudent enough to come within reach of them. Nothing
could be more strange than the appearance of the animal in this
defensive position. Suddenly a shot was fired, and the ant-eater crossed
its fore legs and fell down dead. L'Encuerado had once been nearly
throttled by an ant-eater, and hence it would have been of no use for me
to have attempted to prevent his shooting it.

"Do not come near, Tata Sumichrast," cried the Indian; "these beasts die
very hard, and I still bear the marks of their claws on my skin. Let me
just tickle him up with the point of my _machete_."

"You need not have been afraid," said Sumichrast; "its ugliness is no
proof that it is vicious. It will not attack human beings, and only
makes use of its strength to defend itself. It is of the order Edentala,
and akin to the armadilloes."

"Does it eat any thing but ants?" asked Lucien.

[Illustration: "The bank to the right was covered with cranes, and that
to the left with spoonbills."]

"Ants and other insects. It climbs trees, and its bushy tail
distinguishes it from its brothers, the little ant-eater (_M.
dydactyla_), which seldom visits the ground, and eats more insects than
ants, and the tamandua (_Tamandua tetradactyla_)."

"But how many ants does it take to satisfy it?"

"Thousands; and it would die of hunger if it had to take them one by
one; but, thanks to the length of its tongue, it is enabled to pick up
hundreds at a time."

"What a very peculiar meal!"

"Didn't you know that some Indians are ant-eaters? In the
_Terre-Froide_, for instance, dishes are made of red ants' eggs, and
there is one species which secretes a sweet liquid, of which children
are very fond."

On the shore of the lake a fresh surprise awaited us. The bank to the
right was covered with cranes, and that to the left with spoonbills,
with delicate pink plumage, one of which Lucien shot.

"Oh, what beautiful birds!" said he.

"What a curious beak!" he further exclaimed, examining his victim, which
Gringalet had just brought him.

"Yes, that is why this b