at the traveller's approach, and, flinging himself from limb to limb,
hides among the vines and _Tillandsia_ on the high tree-tops; and the
tiny ouistiti, with its pretty, child-like countenance, peers innocently
through the leaves; while the ferocious zambo fills the woods with its
hideous, half-human voice.

The jaguar is not far distant, "laired" in the secret depths of the
impenetrable jungle. His activity is nocturnal, and his beautiful
spotted body may not be seen except by the silver light of the moon.
Roused by accident, or pressed by the dogs of the hunter, he may cross
my path. So, too, may the ocelot and the lynx; or, as I ride silently
on, I may chance to view the long, tawny form of the Mexican lion,
crouched upon a horizontal limb, and watching for the timid stag that
must pass beneath. I turn prudently aside, and leave him to his hungry
vigil.

Night brings a change. The beautiful birds--the parrots, the toucans,
and the trogons--all go to rest at an early hour; and other winged
creatures take possession of the air. Some need not fear the darkness,
for their very life is light. Such are the "cocuyos", whose brilliant
lamps of green and gold and flame, gleam through the aisles of the
forest, until the air seems on fire. Such, too, are the "gusanitos",
the female of which--a wingless insect, like a glow-worm--lies along the
leaf, while her mate whirrs gaily around, shedding his most captivating
gleams as he woos her upon the wing. But, though light is the life of
these beautiful creatures, it is often the cause of their death. It
guides their enemies--the night-hawk and the "whip-poor-will", the bat,
and the owl. Of these last, the hideous vampire may be seen flapping
his broad dark wings in quick, irregular turnings, and the great
"lechuza" (_Strix Mexicana_), issuing from his dark tree-cave, utters
his fearful notes, that resemble the moanings of one who is being
hanged. Now may be heard the scream of the cougar, and the hoarser
voice of the Mexican tiger. Now may be heard the wild, disagreeable
cries of the howling monkeys (_alouattes_), and the barking of the
dog-wolf; and, blending with these, the croaking of the tree-toads and
the shrill tinkling of the bell-frog. Perhaps the air is no longer, as
in the daytime, filled with sweet perfumes. The aroma of a thousand
flowers has yielded to the fetid odour of the skunk (_Mephitis
chinga_)--for that singular creature is abroad, and, having qu