The Emigrant's Lost Son; or, Life Alone in the Forest

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER III.

  I BUILD MYSELF A HUT--THE SCENERY THROUGHOUT A DAY IN THE FORESTDESCRIBED.

  "O may I with myself agree, And never covet what I see; Content me with a humble shade-- My passions tamed, my wishes laid; For while our wishes wildly roll, We banish quiet from the soul."

  [Sidenote: Projects of building]

  As the first Sabbath-day in the woods closed upon me, I felt moreresigned to my fate, and more composed, than I had been at any previousperiod since the separation from my parents. I now looked on myself asa denizen of the forest; and as I slowly repaired to the hollow tree,the thought possessed me that I could construct some kind ofdwelling-place. During the night I formed and rejected fifty plans forcarrying this scheme out. At length, just as morning dawned, a simplemethod suggested itself to me of effecting my purpose; and, with myusual ardour, I commenced the work forthwith. Before the evening setin I had collected, and trimmed with my pocket-knife, a considerablenumber of stakes, about four feet long, at which work I continued forfour days, when it occurred to me that I had not yet given theeligibility of site a thought, and had been much too hasty in myproceedings. Ashamed of my own impetuosity and want of consideration,I crept to rest, very weary and ill at ease with myself; and as I tooka retrospective view of the results of my impulsive mode of acting onthe thought, together with the ills I had brought on my own head, I didnot spare self-reproach. Considering my numerous wants, it wasclearly, where I had collected the stakes, a very inconvenient spot tochoose for a permanent place of residence. Weighing in my judgment thekind of locality suited to the purpose, I decided on an open space orglade in the forest, where I might have a clear view all around, and beout of the way of uprooted or falling timber. But for this lastconsideration I should at once have selected the spot where I awokeafter my first night's sleep in the forest. The recollection of thatbeautiful scene reminded me of another thing I had not hitherto thoughtof, namely, that my house must be built near to a supply of water, andalso of fruit. The next day, therefore, was spent in searching for asite on which I might commence my building speculation. There was nolack of space, or of glades; but in the resolution I had now made tobecome thoughtful, and act with caution, I fear I became too nice andfastidious.

  [Sidenote: The forest stream]

  One open plot of ground I traversed many times with the eye of agovernment surveyor: it was the very thing itself; but there was nowater to be seen. Presently, I caught the sound of trickling water;and my new friend, caution, forsook me. I was so heedless in runningto satisfy myself that there actually was a stream fit to drink, that Iwas precipitated headlong into the gill, or chasm, which formed thechannel for its course. It was so covered with wood that the eye couldnot see it. Fortunately I met with this rent in the earth near to thecommencement of the fissure, where it was comparatively narrow andshallow. At any other part, its steepness and depth might haveendangered life. It was the birthplace of a native stream. Isubsequently learned to track it by the soothing harmony of thisinvisible torrent, the notes from which sounded like innumerable brokenfalls, and were softened by ascending through branches which hung overit. These sounds were extremely harmonious.

  At the spot where I had fallen the water might with some difficulty beobtained, and near to this, at length I determined to build my villa--asylvan mansion. This site, on one side, was flanked by a morass, orbog, which even then, in the driest season, was only passable with careon tufts of grass, which here and there sprung from the moisture of thesoil. Proceeding to lay out my ground-plan, which was a circle, and toprepare for the morrow, I stayed at work till it was too late to findmy way back to my lodging; leaving me no alternative but either tostretch myself on the ground, exposed to numberless dangers, or remainawake, and protect myself as I might. In this extremity I thought ofthe chasm, and groping my way to it, found its extreme end, where itwas a mere slit, into which I rolled, and laid till the return of day.

  [Sidenote: The hut commenced]

  The morning opened with its usual bustle of animals, birds, and insectssummoning me to my labour, and, having commenced, I was surprised tohear a cry of, "Who are you? Who--who are you?" I had scarcelyrecovered from the astonishment which these words occasioned, when theywere followed by, "Work away!--work away!--work away!" and a mournfulcry of "Willy come!--go, Willy! Willy--Willy--come! Go Willy!"Looking up, and being now in an open space, I could plainly see thebirds fly over my head that uttered these notes. Not aware that thesecalls are common to certain birds, and my Christian name being William,the reader may imagine the effect and surprise with which they wereheard. I instantly discontinued my labour, conceiving that the birdshad been influenced by supernatural agency, and that they portendedomens which had a peculiar reference to myself. This impression filledme with fears and fantasies of all kinds; it seemed as if some spellwas on me, and I sat down in melancholy moodiness for the rest of theday. Irresolute, the following morning I rather dragged myself thanwalked to the same spot; but as I went, another bird over my headdistinctly cried out, "Whip-poor-Will! Whip-poor-Will!Whip-poor-Will!" Yes! I exclaimed (as my spirits threw off the burdenwhich had oppressed them) I am indeed ashamed of my folly in attendingto the omens of birds. They are winging their way to the business ofthe day, and why should I neglect mine? I then returned, and took abundle of the prepared stakes on my back to my new settlement. Need Iapologise to the reader for mentioning the trifling incidents whichdepressed me at times, and the manner in which the paroxysms weredispelled. My motive in naming them is to illustrate the alternationsmy feelings underwent during my early days of probation in thewilderness. I know not whether I had taken a cold, but for some dayspast I had now suffered from a pain in my limbs, which I at the timeattributed to the cramped position in which I rested at night. Itherefore became extremely anxious to possess a place in which I mightstretch myself at length. It, however, took seven days to constructthe internal shell of the hut; for, being determined to sleep insecurity, I ultimately doubled the frame of the building. Havingdriven stakes into the earth, about a foot apart, forming a circle ofabout eight feet in diameter, I interlaced these with the limberbranches of trees, fastening them to the stakes with tough fibres,stripped from the bark of lianes. These shrubs, of which there are agreat variety, all comprised under that term, sometimes grow to thesize of a man's leg round trees, making the trunks look like a mast ofa ship furnished with rigging. They support the trees against thehurricanes, in the same manner as spurs are placed in the ground toprop posts; cords are made of their bark stronger than thosemanufactured of hemp. In woods where timber is felled, it is sometimesthe practice to cut several hundred trees near their roots, where theyremain till the lianes, which hold them, are also cut. When this isdone, one whole part of the wood seems to fall at once, making anastounding crash. By the means of the lianes and stakes, I formed acircular strong hurdle-kind of fence; on this I fastened a number ofother sticks, like wands, tapering at the top, which, when boundtogether, met over the centre part of the floor of the hut, and formeda conical roof. These I also interlaced in the same manner as theupright stakes; covering the whole with leaves of the parrasalla tree,which the wet does not injure; binding these also down with my mostexcellent substitute for cordage--fibres of the bark of the lianes. Inthe roof I left a hole for ingress and egress; so that, with two stepsup, and then a jump, I was in the centre of my habitation, where, withdried grass, I made a most comfortable bed. This, after all, was afrail affair. My next object was to erect another frame over it, atabout two feet distance from the interior shell, filling up the spacebetween the upright stakes with stones and dry earth. The aperture wassecured at night, leaving only a space for air, with a piece of barkhung on with the before-named fibres. With the same material (bark) Ialso formed a kind of stage before the opening into the hut, where Icould sit, and survey the surrounding scenery. Some time subsequentlyI wove myself a grass hammock, which I found more cleanly than thedried grass, a
nd less liable to be infested with insects. Findingmyself lonely in this structure, I took the resolution of increasing myfamily; and, with this view, I devoted a portion of the interior forbirds, that I might not be wholly companionless. These I took young,and reared them up in an aviary which I constructed immediately undermy hammock, letting them out to hop about me when the aperture of thehut was closed. Many of my associates repaid me for my care withstrong proofs of docility and affection. I also caught two landtortoises, to occupy the floor of the dwelling, and make me consciousof other living things besides myself breathing the same air.

  [Sidenote: The dwellers in the hut]

  In the foolishness of my heart I thought that when I possessed a hut,in which I might repose in security, I should be happy. But alas! inthe city or in the forest, worldly acquisitions are not always attendedwith contentment. Man everywhere sighs for something more than hepossesses.

  I had now a hut, one, too, that was impregnable against the attacks ofthe jaguar, or any of the animals of the forest; and, as I thought, inevery way compactly built to be impervious to noxious insects; buthappiness or contentment did not abide in it.

  I now wanted a gun, that I ought, man-like, slay, and play the tyrantover the living things around me. I grew tired of my vegetable diet,and daily lamented the want of a fire to cook the eggs, which now beganto form a considerable portion of my food. These wants gradually, asthe mind dwelt upon them, became sources of anxiety, and disturbed myrest. The animal propensities of my nature began to stir within me. Ilonged to kill at my pleasure, and live on prey, as did the otheranimals of the forest. At length I determined on making the bestsubstitute I could for a gun--namely, a bow and arrow; and, like RobinHood, practise till I could hit the shaft of an arrow placed upright inthe ground.

  It was many weeks subsequently to this resolution before I succeeded ineven procuring the materials I deemed suited for my purpose. My knifehaving become blunted with frequent use, it took a length of time tofashion the bow, and no less than four snapped in two as soon as Iattempted to use them; proving that, choice as I had been in theselection of my wood, my judgment was defective in this particular.When I had succeeded in forming one of these primitive warlike weapons,I fastened large butterflies against the hut, and commenced thepractice of archery.

  I have informed the reader that the entrance of the new dwelling wasthrough the roof, where, as I have said, I erected a seat, orstanding-place; a sort of balcony, or rather, more like a dormerwindow. On this, every morning, during the dry season, at daybreak, Itook my stand to discharge my arrows at any unwary bird that might comewithin my reach.

  [Sidenote: Early morning in the forest]

  This early rising at length grew into a habit, and to watch the openingof the day gave me unspeakable pleasure; and up to the last day of mypilgrimage it was the most interesting hour to me. It was an hour whenthe littleness of life did not present itself; the mind being refreshedwith rest, was prepared to be filled with enlarged ideas.

  The labourers of the night--for nature has her two sets of workinganimals--were then all on their way to seek retirement and rest duringthe day, from the fatigues of the night; while those that had restedduring that period were all preparing to hail the morn with innumerablecries.

  As twilight glimmers in the east, the tiger-cats are stealing intotheir holes. The owl and the goat-sucker cease their mournful lament,and as streaks of light appear the "Ha! ha! ha! ha!" of the latter,each note lower than the last, sounding like the voice of a murderedvictim, entirely ceases. The crickets, also, at this hour begin toslacken the violence of their chirping, though sometimes in cloudyweather they will continue their notes for four-and-twenty hourstogether.

  The partridge is the first of the birds to give signal of the rising ofthe sun, even before he appears on the horizon; while the mist of themorning, that precedes the day, is dispelling, numerous tribes ofinsects are creeping to their hiding-places, as others are issuingforth to enjoy the day. Lizards of sparkling lustre, from two inchesto two feet and a-half long, cross the paths of the forest; and thechameleon has begun to chase the insects round the trunks of trees.Gaudy serpents steal from out of holes or decayed trees.

  "Each rapid movement gives a different dye; Like scales of burnished gold they dazzling show, Now sink to shade, now like a furnace glow."

  The houton, a bird so called from the sound he gives out, distinctlyarticulates "houton, houton," in a plaintive note, as he erects hiscrown, and cuts and trims his tail, with his beak, in the most,artistical manner, then flies off with a short jerk.

  At the same period the maam whistles; and when the sun is seen abovethe horizon, the hanaquoi, pataca, maroucli, and all the parrots andparoquets are prepared to announce his arrival. Every hour from thismoment, excepting noon, calls into action new races of animals; and hewho spends a day in the scene that environed my existence, when seatedat my door, would not know which most to admire,--the forms, hues, orvoices of the animals presented to his observation; as at intervals,wonder, admiration, and awe of the power that created them, are forcedon the mind.

  [Sidenote: Forest animals]

  With the morning's dawn, the monkeys send forth their howl, thegrasshoppers and locusts chirp, the frogs and toads give out theirnotes. The hanging pendant wasps' nests, most curious in form, sendforth their inhabitants; myriads of ants issue from their clay-builttenements, in some places colonized so densely as to cover the foliageall around. These, like the species of ants called the termites, thatcast up the earth in mounds, commence their day's journey on roadsconstructed by themselves, some of which are covered, and others open.

  Myriads of the most beautiful beetles buzz in the air, and sparkle likejewels on the fresh and green leaves, or on odorous flowers. Othertribes, such as serpents and agile lizards, creep from the hollow oftrees, or from holes beneath the herbage; many of them exceeding insplendour the hue of the flowers. The major part of these are on theirway to creep up the stems of trees or bushes, there to bask in the sun,and lie in wait for birds and insects.

  The most brilliantly coloured butterflies, rivalling in hues therainbow, begin to flutter from flower to flower, or collect in partieson the most sunny banks of cooling streams. There was the blue-whiteidia, the large eurilochus with its ocellated wings, the hesperite, theLaertes, the blue shining Nestor, and the Adonis; these, like birds, inmost places hovered between the bushes. The feronia, with rustlingwings, flew rapidly from tree to tree; while the owl, the largest ofthe moth species, sat immovable, with out-spread wings, waiting theapproach of evening.

  As the day progresses, the life of the scene increases. Troops ofgregarious monkeys issue from the depths of the forest, theirinquisitive countenances turned towards the verge of their woodeddomain, making their way for the plantations; all leaping, whistling,and chattering as they progress from tree to tree.

  Parrots, some blue, red, or green, others, parti-coloured, assemble inlarge groups on the tops of the forest-trees; and then, flying off tothe plantations, fill the air with their screams. The toucan, perchedon an extreme branch, rattles his large, hollow bill; and in loud,plaintive notes, calls for rain. The fly-catcher sits aloof, intent onwatching insects as they dart from branch to branch, seizing them asthey heedlessly buzz by him in their giddy and unsteady career. Otherbirds, of singular form, variety, and superb plumage, flutter by, inlarge or small parties, or in pairs, and some singly, peoplingeverywhere the fragrant bushes. On the ground are gallinaceans,jacuses, hocuses, and pigeons, that have left the perch to wander underthe trees, in the moisture, for food.

  In the tones of the nightingale the manikins are heard in all places,amusing themselves by their sudden change of position, and inmisleading the sportsman; while the woodpecker makes the distant forestresound as he strikes the trees. Super-noisy, above all, is theuraponga, who, perched on the highest tree he can find, gives outsounds resembling the strokes of a sledge-hammer on the anvil, deludingthe wanderer, as it once did me, in
to a belief that a blacksmith's shopis near at hand.

  [Sidenote: The mocking-bird]

  Every living thing, by its action and voice, is seen greeting thesplendour of the day; while the delicate humming-bird, rivalling, inbeauty and lustre, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires, hovers withinvisible wings over the brightest flowers. The bird colibri repairsto the tree called _bois immortel_, when the wild guava ripens itsfruit; and there, also, will be found the Pompadour, both thepurple-breasted and the purple-throated. At the same hour (day-break),the crowing of the hanaquoi sounds like a village-clock, for all to setto work in the great shop of nature. Then the cassique, ormocking-bird, gives out his own short but sweet song, preparatory tovisiting the plantations, being fond of the haunts of man, where heremains till evening, making all kinds of noises, from the crowing of acock, and the barking of dogs, to the grunting and squeaking of pigs.These birds weave their nests near together, in a pendulous manner.Their bodies are black, having the rump and half-tail yellow; otherspecies have the rump a bright scarlet. In form they are a model ofsymmetry.

  As the feathered tribes, one after the other, adjust their plumage, andtune their throats, squirrels, in rapid spiral speed, as quick asthought, are seen descending trees, then darting upon others inopposite directions, flinging themselves from tree to tree, withamazing exactness; pursuing their mates or their rivals among the mazybranches of the trees, with a velocity that eludes the sight.

  Everywhere is nature's secretary, with his pen dipped in intellect,busy in writing down the invisible agency of Infinite Wisdom andAlmighty Power.

  "How dazzling is thy beauty! how divine! How dim the lustre of the world to thine!"

  The sublimity of the scene, when first beheld, produced unlimitedastonishment; viewed again and again, all was softened down intoharmonious shades of beauty, imparting a pleasure that cannot beunderstood by mere dwellers amidst the works of man.

  [Sidenote: Noon in the forest]

  In the forest, every hour of the night and day is the Creator presentto the eye. Surrounded by the works of man, we sometimes lose sight ofour Maker, and do not always properly appreciate his attributes. Ihave said that the morning gives life and activity to myriads of hiscreatures, who declare his power; but not less expressive is the hourof tranquillity--the hour of noon. At that hour, all is suddenlyhushed into solemn silence. Stillness, as if by general consent,concert, or word of command, influences all the sylvan communities--astillness illumined and made more manifest by the dazzling and burningbeams of a meridian sun.

  Creation at that hour appears wearied, fatigued, and overcome with thesplendour of the day; it is as the face of God himself, before whoseglory all things are struck with awe, and pause to acknowledge Hismajesty. Nothing moves--it is the hour of nature's siesta--yet thestillness speaks.

  "Thy shades, thy silence, now be mine, Thy charms my only theme; My haunt the hollow cliff whose pine Waves o'er the gloomy stream."

  The quietness is that of a pause in the running stream of time; the airis motionless, the leaves hang pendant, as waiting in the presence of adeity for permission to resume the business of growth. The silencethat reigns at the hour of noon is peculiarly of a religious character;there is nothing to which it can be compared but itself. From thenobles of the forest to the minutest insect, all appear to be at theirdevotions--the propensity to kill, for the time being, is forgotten orsuspended,--

  "The passions to divine repose alone Persuaded yield; and love and joy are waking."

  It is as if the naiads and fairies had deserted the sunbeams and fallenasleep. Oh! there is a harmony in nature wonderfully attuned to theintelligence of man, if he would but listen to it. The hour of noon,in the woods, is an hour of intellectual transcendentalism; it liftsthe thoughts beyond the world, and peoples the grove with spirits ofanother world. Yet is there nothing in motion but the beams of the sunpenetrating the foliage to the base of the trees--

  "The chequered earth seems restless as a flood Brushed by the winds, so sportive is the light Shot through the boughs; it dances as they dance, Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick, And dark'ning and enlight'ning (as the beams Play wanton) every part."

  Everything speaks of the Deity, and the fall of a leaf passes as aphantom of the dead.

  ----"not a tree, A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains A folio volume."

  The fitful meanings of the wind, in the more boisterous moments ofAEolus, through the branches, speak not louder of God than the whisperof his breath that plays with the foliage. The low and broken murmursof the water in the gill are as audibly eloquent as the lashing of thewaves of the ocean in a storm, or the wild roar of the cataract. Thevoice of nature, come in what form it may, brings unutterable thoughtsof the majesty of the creation. Whether it is in the deep, delicioustones of the happiness of the wood-dove, the melting, graceful notes ofthe nightingale, the thrilling melody of other sylvan songsters, or thetwitterings of the swallow, all compel us to exclaim, "Oh! there isharmony in nature."

  "Sounds inharmonious in themselves, and harsh, Yet heard in scenes where peace for ever reigns, ... Please highly for their sake. ... Kites that swim sublime In still-repeated circles, screaming loud, ... Have charms for me."

  [Sidenote: Evening]

  But the hour of stillness, like all other hours, passes away. Theinsects again give out their sounds; wasps and bees buzz in everydirection; the talk of birds is clamorously resumed; the king-vultureand the kite soar high in the hair, like fugle-birds, as signals forthe resumption of the business of the day. The chattering manikinsagain rustle among the fig-leaves; the armadillo, and other burrowinganimals, are seen cautiously peeping from their holes; the hornedscreamer opens wide his throat, and one by one, the whole of the sylvanfeathered community join in concert.

  The porcupine moves in the trees; the long grass is observed to giveway as creeping things pursue their prey, or escape from foes; allindications that the earth and air again are full of animated life.

  An hour or two elapses, and a gentle breeze rises to cool the air andgive motion to the trees, as troop after troop of birds and monkeyswend their way back into the interior of the forest, indicating thegradual decline of the day. General preparations are being made forrest; only the slender deer, the peccari, the timid agouti, and thetapir, will still graze. The opossum, and some sly animals of thefeline race skulk through the obscurity of the wood, stealthilyprowling for prey. Finally, the last troop of howling monkeys areheard, as if performing the duty of drovers to those that have precededthem; the sloth cries as if in much distress with pain; the croaking offrogs, and monotonous chirps of large grasshoppers, bring on the closeof day.

  The tops of the forest now appear to be on fire, in the midst of which,the toucan, on a blasted mora tree, is uttering his evening cry, asdarker shades are gradually cast into the forest, and the sun's discsinks into the horizon.

  The sky, which a moment since was bright as burnished gold, has alreadychanged to a dusky grey, with here and there streaks of purple hue. Asolitary bird, truant to its mate, or perhaps a mourner for its lossduring the day's excursion, is seen like a wayfarer, with tired flight,wearily labouring to reach the wood ere nightfall.

  Twilight is still lingering in the west, bringing on the night with asoft and sweet touch of delicacy, but still approaching, tillsurrounding objects become more and more obscure and confused, thoughundiminished in their beauty and effect. The cries of the macue, thecapaiera, the goat-sucker, and the bass tones of the bullfrog, are nowheard. Myriads of luminous beetles fly in the air, resembling theignes fatui, and announce the departure of the day; when thenight-moths and numerous other insects start on the wing, the bats flitbetween the branches of trees, the owls and vampires, like phantoms,silently pursue their course in search of prey, reserving their hollowcries for the ominous hour of midnight.

  The stars, one after another, are lighted up as the moon rises on thehorizon, with a modest countenance, to
intimate to man that there isstill a ruling power over the world. She tinges with silver streaks oflight the tops and edges of the forest, till

  "Lo! midnight, from her starry reign, Looks awful down on earth and main, The tuneful birds lie hush'd in sleep, With all that crop the verdant food, With all that skim the crystal flood, Or haunt the caverns of the rocky steep."

  At this hour the spectral owl quits the hollow tree, and with hisshriek makes the boldest birds shrink away in fear, though in thesunshine hour they would hunt him.

  "So when the night falls, and dogs do howl, Sing Ho! for the reign of the horned owl! We know not alway Who are kings by day; But the king of the night is the bold brown owl!"

  "Mourn not for the owl, nor his gloomy plight! The owl hath his share of good; If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, He is lord in the dark greenwood. Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate, They are each unto each a pride; Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate, Hath rent them from all beside."

  [Sidenote: The bow and arrows]

  I made but little progress in archery, which was a great source ofmortification to me, although I spent every leisure hour I could spareafter obtaining food, in practice. I was on the verge of despair ofever being able to make anything like a shot, when an incident occurredthat enabled me to kill, in a few weeks, almost any bird on the wing,if within the range of my bow. Returning home from a long andfatiguing ramble (for I had extended my surveys of the forest as Iacquired confidence of finding my way home at night), I one day wasastonished to see a bow and a quiver of arrows suspended from thebranch of a tree.

  This was a sight which occasioned feelings that are indescribable. Iwas both rejoiced and alarmed. At first I thought my deliverance wascertain; the next moment I crouched behind a bush to hide myself, asfrom a most deadly foe. When I reflected on the loneliness of myexistence, I longed to join society; yet, whenever society appeared tobe available, I instinctively shrunk back, as if about to lose myindependence or be carried into slavery. Operated on by mingledimpulses, the dread of man seemed for a long time to prevail. Mightthey not be savages, and take my life? Or might they not lead me intocaptivity, and make a slave of me? They would at least have theChristian's practice to urge as a plea, in extenuation of such ameasure.

  Confident that human beings were in the neighbourhood, I at lengthresolved to secrete myself in a bush and wait their return. I fixed myeyes on the bow and quiver, expecting their owner would return forthem; but the tones of the toucan were heard, by which I was as wellinformed of the approach of evening, as the partridge's call announcesthe coming day. Still unwilling to quit the spot, I remainedthroughout the night; but no owner came to claim the weapons. All thistime I feared to touch them as if they were a trap laid to ensnare me.About noon the next day, I thought of possessing myself of them, andthen made a circuit to reassure myself that no one was at hand. Withfear and trembling I then, like a thief, took the bow and quiver fromthe tree, and hastened back to my hut to examine them. The wholesecret of my inability to shoot birds was now at once explained. I hadnot feathered my arrows, nor was my bow long enough.

  Still anxious to know their owner, the following morning I repairedagain to the spot, and hung my own rudely formed weapons on the sametree from which I had taken the others. My motives were, first, toascertain whether any person would yet come to remove them, and also toinform those who might come for that purpose, that another human beingwas in the neighbourhood.

  The bow and arrows hung there a month, when I gave up all hopes ofseeing any person in the woods; still the event caused me muchuneasiness, and ever afterwards occasioned me to tread the paths aroundwith extreme caution.

  [Sidenote: Flint and steel]

  Being now furnished with well-made arms, I soon brought down my birds,and might have fared sumptuously, could I have procured a fire. All mywaking hours were, therefore, spent in bewailing this want, when onemorning, as I was digging with my stick to come at a land tortoise thathad crept into a hole, I raked out a piece of flint, and the tinder-boxoccurring to my mind, I struck it on the back of my knife, andinstantly produced sparks, which actually made me leap for joy. Mydelight, however, was but of short duration. How were the sparks to becollected? I had no tinder--no matches. I then thought of my shirt,which I had long cast off; but then I had no matches, and must havefire before I could make tinder.

  My joy was soon turned into despondency. I threw down the flint, andin the bitterness of my disappointment, apostrophised it, as the cockin the fable did, when scratching on a dunghill he found a jewelinstead of a grain of corn. "Are all my days to be spent," Iejaculated, "in hopes that delight me only to make me more miserable?"Suddenly it occurred to my memory, that when at school, our smallpieces of artillery were fired with lighted decayed wood, what the boyscalled touch-wood. Repossessing myself of the flint, I flew to my oldsleeping-place, and in my impatience, struck a light on my formerbed--the soft wood in the interior--it ignited, and smouldered. I wasin an ecstacy of delight, and clapped my hands with exultation. StillI had no flame. I then collected some dried leaves, and holding themloosely over the spot that was alight, I blew with my mouth; a severelyburnt hand soon informed me that I had succeeded.

  My first fire was indeed a bonfire: heaping more leaves and driedsticks on to it, the tree was entirely consumed, and a number of othersso damaged as very soon to become touch-wood.

  [Sidenote: The thunder-storm]

  A terrible thunder-storm succeeded this exploit. So wholly absorbedhad I been with the fire, that when it expended itself, I found myselfin total darkness, the moon having been suddenly obscured. All theinhabitants of the wood were restless and uneasy in their beds. Icould hear the stag startle, and again lay himself down. Flashes oflightning showed the birds, lifting their heads at intervals, thenreturning them hastily again under their wings. The storm had for sometime been gathering on the tops of the forest, and had now spread itsblack mantle over the moon, while I, like a school-boy on the fifth ofNovember, had been exulting over a blaze.

  On the storm advanced, in the majesty of darkness, moving on the wingsof the blast, which my imagination pictured as uprooting the treesaround me. The thunder rolled over the crown of the forest in the rearof the lightning. Rifted clouds continued to pass over my head. Anowl left its dirge unfinished, and fitted its ruffled feathers into acleft of a blasted tree over my head. The wild animals that prowl bynight, with famished stomachs, sought shelter in their dens.

  I alone stood bared to the fury of the storm, incapable of reaching myhut in the darkness of that awful night. The thunder rolled as withten thousand voices, and the lightning at intervals set the wholeforest in a blaze of light. One of the flashes brought down a moratree near to where I stood, crushing the limbs of other trees as itfell. The crash was terrific. Examining it the next morning bydaylight, there was a wild fig-tree growing out of its top, and on thefig grew a wild species of vine. The fig-tree was as large as a commonapple-tree, yet owed its growth to an undigested seed, dropped by birdsthat resort to the mora to feed on its ripe fruit. Such seeds the sapof the mora raises into full bearing, when they, in their turn, arecalled on to support and give out their sap to different species ofseeds, also dropped by birds. In this case the usurpation of the figon the mora, and the vine on the fig, brought all to an early end. Adead sloth was lying near to the prostrate timber, probably broughtdown, by the force of its fall, from the branch of another tree.

  It was a night of devastation in the wilds of nature. The storms ofdestruction blew piercingly on every quarter. The destroying blastclapped his wings over many a tree, and laid prostrate numerouscreatures that had life as the sun went down the previous evening. Tothe things that can be shaken, belong all that is earthly. Howeverdurable they may appear, however they may glitter, or stable they mayappear, age, or the storm, will bring them to oblivion. Mutability iswritten on all the works of nature. It is an inscription
that meetsevery eye, whether turned on the foundations of a city, a nation, orthe works of the creation. Awe-struck with the dilapidations themorning made visible, I hastened to my hut, anxious to see if all wassafe there, and prepare to cook myself a dinner.

  [Sidenote: The sloth]

  Man is essentially a cooking animal, and though omnivorous in hisappetite, is nine parts out of ten carnivorous. I had abundance ofvegetable food around me, of which I ate freely, and was in goodhealth; yet my desire to taste animal food was so strong that I wouldat the time have made almost any sacrifice to obtain it. I had reachedmore than half the distance towards my residence, thinking all the wayonly on the means that I possessed of making a fire, before it occurredto me that I had no flesh to cook. I then turned back, and with myknife cut off the hind-quarter of the sloth, being resolved to try thequality of the flesh.

  Having collected a small heap of the dried rotten wood, to use astinder, I succeeded in making a fire outside my hut, where I broiledsome pieces of the sloth's flesh, and from it made a tolerable meal,though it was not so good as beef or mutton.

  Whenever I subsequently met with the sloth, he always excited my pity,and I forbore from doing such a helpless creature any injury. Thenatives say that by his piteous moans he will make the heart of a tigerrelent, and turn away from him. The sloth is a solitary animal; he hasno companion to cheer him, but lies on the branches of trees almoststationary, having no means of defence or escape, if you intend him anyharm; his looks, his gestures, and his cries declare it; therefore donot kill him. He subsists wholly on the leaves of trees, and does notquit one branch till there is nothing left for him to eat, and he thenmoves evidently with much pain to himself. He preys on no livinganimal, and is deficient and deformed, when compared with otheranimals, though in some other respects he is compensated in thecomposition of his frame. His feet are without soles, nor can he movehis toes separately; he therefore cannot walk, but hooks himself alongby means of the claws which are at the extremity of the fore-feet. Hehas no cutting teeth; he has four stomachs, and yet wants the longintestinal canals of ruminating animals. His hair lies flat on hisbody, like long grass withered by the frost. He has six more ribs thanthe elephant, namely, forty-six, the latter having only forty; his legsstrike the eye as being too short, and as if joined to the body withthe loss of a joint. On the whole, as a quadruped, the sloth is of thelowest degree. He never quits a tree until all the leaves are eaten.

  The day after I had made a meal from the sloth, I shot my arrow throughthe head of a horned screamer, which brought him within my grasp; thiswas a great feat for me to accomplish, the screamer being a majesticbird, as large as a turkey-cock, having on the head a long slenderhorn, each wing being armed with a sharp, strong spur, of an inch long.I had seated myself behind a tree, where I had been, for several hours,watching the movements of the ants that build their nests on thosetrees, when the bird came within a few yards of me. This incidentpractically exemplified to me that, like other animals that seek forprey, I must use patience, and be wary in my movements. It taught meto reflect and to know that it was not rambling over much space thatwould ensure success, and that every spot in the world was available,either for the study of the things of creation or for procuring food.

  It is a great error some fall into when they imagine that travellingover much ground will give knowledge; those who observe and reflect maygain more information when examining a puddle of water, than thecareless will in traversing the globe.

  [Sidenote: The ants]

  Of the insect tribe, the ants early attracted my attention, and I spentmuch time in watching their movements; indeed, from the first hour Iturned my thoughts to the study of insects, I never afterwards spent adull one. The tree ants' nests are about five times as large as thosemade by rooks, from which they have covered ways to the ground; theseways I frequently broke down, but as often as I did so, they werequickly under repair, a body of labouring ants being immediatelysummoned for that purpose. Ants have the means of communicating witheach other in a very rapid manner. I am of opinion that the antennaeare the medium through which they receive and convey orders to eachother.

  I have seen a troop of ants a mile long, each one carrying in its moutha round leaf about the size of a sixpence, which appeared to have beentrimmed round to the shape. Wasps do the same; and after twisting themup in the shape of a horn, deposit their eggs in them. When on theirmarch, or engaged at work, nothing deters them from progressing; theyseem to have no fear either of injury or death. I have broken theirline at different points, and killed thousands of them; the others goover the same ground, as if perfectly unconscious of danger, while abody of them are instantly detached to remove the dead, and clear theway. It matters not how often the experiment is repeated, or whatnumber are slain, others come on as if their forces were unlimited. Itwould seem that they live under an absolute monarchy, and dare notdisobey orders. When accompanying them on a march, I have seen amessenger arrive from the opposite direction to that they were going,and the whole line, as I have said, of sometimes a mile long,simultaneously brought to a halt. One of the ants belonging to thebody went forward, and applied its antennae to those of the messenger,after which, the latter returned the way he came, and the main bodyimmediately altered its course of march.

  At one time, I fell in with an unusually large body of thesepersevering labourers, and being resolved, if possible, to stop them, Iformed a ditch in their way, and filled it with water; while the ditchwas being made, they continued their course up and down the ridges ofthe loose earth, as if nothing had happened, although hundreds wereevery instant buried. When, however, the water was turned into thechannel, there was a momentary halt; but as the ant must never be idle,it was but for an instant, to receive orders to take the margin of theearth, and travel round the head of the channel. How the nature of thedisaster they had met with was made known, so as to stop the whole bodysimultaneously, may be difficult to ascertain; but at the moment ofmaking these experiments I have distinctly seen the antennae of one antstrike the tail of the one immediately before it, and the same movementrepeated by all the others in rapid succession as far as my observationextended.

  [Sidenote: Wasps]

  All insects that live in communities are, I should imagine, inpossession of language. One day I saw a wasp fly into my hut, andrecollecting that I had a small collection of honey wrapped in someplantain leaves, I went to close the shutter as it again flew out; butobserving the wasp immediately fly towards another of his species, andthen to a second and a third, and those instantly fly off in oppositedirections, I said to myself, the discovery of my depot of honey isbeing advertised throughout the community of wasps. Thinking I woulddisappoint the depredators, before I left home I was very careful infastening the entrance, and stuffing every crevice up with long grass.About a hundred yards from my hut I met a swarm of wasps, which inducedme to return and ascertain whether my conjectures were confirmed; andthere I found an immense number seeking an entrance, evidently with aview of plundering me of my honey. It was not long ere they foundadmission through some of the apertures in the roof. Knowing that myhoney must go,--for a swarm of wasps is not to be molested withimpunity,--I turned away to pursue my walk with the reflection thatthey only took what they could get, and suited their appetites, thebusiness of my own every-day life.

  Both in society and in the forest it is wise at all times to avoidbeing an aggressor. The stings of mankind, and of insects, are mostfrequently the result of our own imprudence. In the forest I havedaily been surrounded with myriads of wasps and large stinging bees,and never received an injury but when I was committing depredations ontheir store.

  But of all plunderers in nature, the ant exceeds the whole. I hadbecome acquainted with five species of bees in my immediateneighbourhood, not one of which could secure their combs from thevoracious appetites of the ant. They came in such numbers, assometimes, in my view, to threaten the undermining of the forest; andwere to be seen of all si
zes and colour. One sort is so large, thatthe natives make a considerable article of food of them when fried.

  The termites, or white ants, are very destructive; neither fruit,flowers of plants, or food of any kind, escapes them. When they appearin the dwellings of man, they will undermine a house in a few hours, ifthe wood of which it is built suits their taste.

  [Sidenote: Voracity of the ants]

  The whole of the ant tribes are, however, essentially carnivorous, andare useful in repressing a too rapid increase amongst reptiles muchlarger than themselves; and I have often thought, when watching theirmovements, and observing that there is nothing, from the smallestwinged insect to the carcase of a bullock, that comes to the ground,but they instantly assemble in millions to devour it, that they wereintended by nature to prevent the corruption of the air from the decayand putrefaction of animal matter. If an enormous spider accidentallyfalls to the ground, they give it no time to recover itself; thousandsare instantly on it; and although the spider, in its struggles toescape, will kill and crush numbers, still others continue to crawl uphis legs and thighs, and there hang on in quietness, till their victimis exhausted by fatigue, when a few seconds serve to remove all tracesof its heretofore existence. As I grew older, and acquired moreexperience in hunting for my food, I frequently killed large animals,of whose flesh I could only eat as much as served me for a meal, beforethe remainder would be spoiled by the heat of the weather: this theants generally cleared away.

  At length I learned to go out by moonlight, to kill deer and thepeccari,--a time that they like to browse, and may be approached withmore ease. I generally dragged the remains of a carcase I did not wantin the way of the ants, and watched them at their feast. A few hoursserved to leave the bones of the largest animal perfectly clean, and asa skeleton for study, fit for an exhibition.

  When the termites, or white ant, is seen in the neighbourhood of man,the antipathies of the species are rendered available. As soon as theyare observed, sugar is strewed in such a direction as to lead the brownor black ants to the spot, who, it is known, will immediately attackand put the white party to the rout, much to the amusement of thenegroes, who cheer on the blacks to kill the whites. I have oftenawoke with my body covered with ants, when I generally ran to thenearest water, and plunging into it, freed myself from them; though Inever could discover for what purpose they spread themselves over myframe, unless it were in expectation of my becoming a corpse. When,however, I did rouse myself, they seldom exhibited much alacrity inacknowledging their error by making a speedy retreat.