ivorous creatures the very opposite is sometimes the truth; and some
animals--as the tapir, for instance--that feed exclusively on sweet and
succulent vegetables, produce a most bitter flesh for themselves. About
this there is no standing law either way.

The flesh of the armadillo is excellent eating, not unlike young pork,
and, when "roasted in the shell" (the Indian mode of cooking it), it is
quite equal, if not superior, to a baked "pig," a dish very much eaten
in our own country.

Guapo did not call them armadillos--he had several Indian names for
different kinds of them. "Armadillo" is the Spanish name, and signifies
the "little armed one," the diminutive of "armado" or "armed." This name
is peculiarly appropriate to these animals, as the hard bony casing
which covers the whole upper parts of their bodies, bears an exceeding
resemblance to the suits of plate armour worn in the days of Cortez and
chivalry.

On the head there is the helmet, the back is shielded by a corslet, and
even the limbs are covered with greaves. Of course, this armour is
arranged differently in the different species, and there is more or less
hair upon all, between the joinings of the plates.

These points were not touched upon by Guapo, but others of equal
interest were. He went on to say that he knew many different kinds of
them;--some not bigger than a rat, and some as large as a full-grown
sheep; some that were slow in their paces, and others that could outrun
a man; some that were flat, and could squat so close as hardly to be
seen against the ground,--(these were _tatou-poyous_, the sort that had
hollowed out the deer); and some again that were high-backed and nearly
globe-shaped. Such was Guapo's account of these curious animals which
are found only in the warmer regions of North and South America.

CHAPTER XXIX.

AN ARMADILLO HUNT.

Conversing in this way, the bark-hunters, at length, reached the
cinchona-trees, and then all talk about armadillos was at an end. They
went lustily to their work--which was of more importance--and, under
Guapo's axe, several of the cinchonas soon "bit the dust."

There was a spot of open ground just a little to one side of where these
trees stood. They had noticed, on coming up, a flock of zamuros, or
black vultures, out upon this ground, clustered around some object. It
was the carcass of another deer. The first blow of the axe startled the
birds, and they flapped a short way off. They s