rible little monsters were following
us.

The padre begged us at last to stop, that he might recover breath and
rub his ankle. As we rested, he fancied that he again heard the grunts
and squeaks, and urged us to go on. We willingly obeyed him, and
continued our night till we saw the broad river close in front of us.
We shouted to our crew, but neither they nor the canoe were to be seen.

"The fellows can't have put off already," exclaimed the doctor; "they
deserve hanging or shooting if they have."

"Perhaps they are hidden by the bank," observed the padre; "come on. I
still hear those horrible grunts in the distance; I shall never get the
sound out of my ears as long as I live."

Presently we saw a hat rising above the bank; it was that of our
captain. Another and another appeared. The fellows had been fast
asleep, and had not discovered now quickly the time had gone by. When
they heard of our encounter, they congratulated us, assuring us that
they had known of numbers of people being killed by herds of peccaries;
and they asserted that the creatures will attack and destroy a jaguar,
though many of the herd may first lose their lives in the battle. Our
men, on hearing of the peccaries we had killed, were eager to obtain
some of the flesh, and coolly asked us to go with them, that we might
defend them. This we declined doing, for even a dozen men would have
been no match for the remainder of the herd, should we encounter them.
Our fellows looked very sulky at our refusal, though they were afraid to
go alone; so we ordered them to shove off, and proceeded on our voyage,
leaving the slain peccaries to become the food of jaguars and pumas, or
armadilloes and vultures,--which, before the nest day's sun arose, would
devour the whole of them.

Some days after this we reached a long, low sand-bank, which the falling
waters had left dry. We were about to pass close to it, when a voice
from the shore hailed us to "keep off in the middle of the stream;" and
on looking in the direction from whence it came, we perceived a large
encampment of Indians, and in the midst of them recognised a Franciscan
monk.

To recompense our crew for the loss of the peccaries, we agreed to land,
in the hope of obtaining some fresh provisions. Padre Pacheco told us
not to mention who he was; and certainly no one could have discovered
him by his dress.

On landing we were welcomed by the friar, who introduced himself as
Padre Bobo.