shes the chief ingredient. He also adds the juices of a
bitter root and of two bulbous plants. Next he hunts till he finds two
species of ants, one very large, black, and venomous; the other small
and red, which stings like a nettle. He adds the pounded fangs of the
Labarri and the Counacouchi snakes; and the last ingredient is red
pepper.

The mixture is boiled and looks like coffee. It is poured into a
calabash. Let us now note how it is used. When the Indian goes in quest
of game, he seldom carries his bow and arrows. It is the blowpipe he
then uses. This is a most extraordinary instrument of death. The reed
must grow to an amazing length, as the part used is ten feet long. This
is placed inside a larger tube. The arrow is from nine to ten inches
long. It is made out of leaf of a species of palm-tree, and about an
inch of the pointed end is poisoned. The other end is fixed into a lump
of wild cotton made skilfully to fit the tube.

Chiefly birds are shot with this weapon. The flesh of the game is not
in the least injured by the poison. For larger game bows are used with
poisoned arrows.

An Arowack Indian said it was but four years ago that he and his
companions were ranging in the forest for game. His companion took a
poisoned arrow and sent it at a red monkey in a tree above him. It was
nearly a perpendicular shot. The arrow missed the monkey, and, in the
descent, struck him in the arm. He was convinced it was all over with
him. "I shall never bend this bow again," said he. And having said that,
he took off his little bamboo poison box, which hung across his
shoulder, and putting it with his bow and arrow on the ground, he laid
himself close by them, bid his companion farewell, and never spoke more.

Sugar-cane and salt are supposed to be antidotes, but in reality they
are of no avail. He who is unfortunate enough to be wounded by a
poisoned arrow from Macoushia will find them of no avail. He has got a
deadly foe within him which will allow him but very little time. In a
few moments he will be numbered with the dead.

_II.--Second Journey_

In the year 1816, two days before the vernal equinox, I sailed from
Liverpool for Pernambuco, in the southern hemisphere, on the coast of
Brazil. Arrived there, I embarked on board of a Portuguese brig for
Cayenne in Guiana. On the 14th day after leaving Pernambuco, the brig
cast anchor off the island of Cayenne. The entrance is beautiful. To
windward, not far off, are