e were out on a ramble,
and caught one of the eels in a pool, where it had got penned up by the
water having dried around it. The _dueno_ took out a piece of wire, and
with one end tickled the eel; the other end being stuck into some
gunpowder, which was wrapped loosely in a piece of paper. The powder
flashed and set the paper ablaze, as also some leaves and dry sticks
we'd laid around it. Soon we had a fire; and on that same fire we
broiled the eel itself, and ate it. _Por dios_! I only wish we had one
broiling over this fire. I'd want no better thing for supper."

So ended the chat about electric eels, the subject seeming exhausted.
Then the conversation changing to other and less interesting topics, was
soon after brought to a close. For the darkness was now down, and as
their ponchos, and other softer goods had become thoroughly dry, there
was no reason why they should not go to rest for the night. But since
the soldier-cranes had declined coming back--by this time no doubt
roosted in some far-off "cranery"--and no other source of food supply
offering, they must needs go to bed supperless, as they did. Their
appetites were not yet sufficiently sharp, to have an inordinate craving
for meat.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

NOTHING FOR BREAKFAST.

Under the shadow of the _algarobias_ the trackers sleep undisturbed.
Ludwig, however, has troubled dreams, in which gymnoti play a
conspicuous part. He imagines himself still floundering amidst these
monsters, assailed from all sides by their galvanic batteries, and that
they have dragged him down into the mud, where he is fast getting
asphyxiated. When in his last gasp, as it were, he is relieved, by
awaking from his uneasy slumbers; which he does suddenly, and with a
terrified cry.

Finding it has been all a dream, and glad to think it so, he says
nothing; and the others not having heard his half-stifled cry, soon
again falls asleep. This time his slumber is lighter, as also more
profound; and, on the whole, he has a tolerable night's rest; in the
morning feeling fairly refreshed, as likewise do Cypriano and Gaspar.

All three are astir a good half-hour before there is any sign of day;
and their camp-fire is rekindled. This not for culinary purposes--since
they have nothing to be cooked--but rather because the air is chilly
cold, as it often is in the tropics, and they need to warm themselves
before setting about aught else.

When warmed, however, they beg