hat was voted, even by Leon, a
dangerous experiment--too dangerous to be attempted. They were still on
the other side of the river, and the bridge was now gone. If left to
themselves, no doubt they would have perished, as they were very young
things. Perhaps some carnivorous creature--wolf, coati, eagle, or
vulture--would have devoured them, or they might have been eaten up by
the ants. But this was not to be their fate. Guapo swam across, and
strangled them. Then tying them together, he suspended the pair over his
shoulders, and brought them with him to be exhibited as a curiosity.
Moreover Guapo had a design upon their skins.

It was not long after that a pleasanter pet than either of them was
found, and this was a beautiful little saimiri monkey, about the size of
a squirrel, which Guapo and Leon captured one day in the woods. They
heard a noise as they were passing along, and going up to the spot, saw
on the branch of a low tree nearly a dozen little monkeys all rolled up
together in a heap with their tails wrapped round each other as if to
keep themselves warm.

Nearly another dozen were running about, whining and apparently trying
to get in among the rest. Guapo and Leon made a sudden rush upon them,
and were able to capture three or four before the creatures could free
themselves; but only one lived, and that became a great pet and
favourite. It was a beautiful little creature--a true saimiri, or
squirrel-monkey, called the "titi." Its silky fur was of a rich
olive-green colour; and its fine large eyes expressed fear or joy--now
filling with tears, and now brightening again--just like those of a
child.

During the summer our bark-gatherers continued their labour without
interruption, and on account of the great plenty of the cinchona-trees,
and their proximity to the house, they were enabled to accumulate a very
large store. They worked like bees.

Although this forest life was not without its pleasures and excitements,
yet it began to grow very irksome both to Don Pablo and Dona Isidora.
Life in the wilderness, with its rude cares and rude enjoyments, may be
very pleasant for a while to those who seek it as amateurs, or to that
class who as colonists intend to make it a permanent thing. But neither
Don Pablo nor his wife had ever thought of colonisation. With them their
present industry was the result of accident and necessity. Their tastes
and longings were very different. They longed to return to civilised