It makes also a loud sound, by clacking its teeth, and lashing its tail on the water. It has a voice not readily to be distinguished from that of the animals of the forest. It is similar to a hollow suppressed sigh bursting forth on a sudden, loud enough to be heard a mile off. First one gives vent to this fearful sound, then another answers from a distance; and from up and down the river, and across the current, these horrible noises are heard, showing that the hideous saurians are in a lively mood, watching for their suppers. It is supposed that when once they have tasted human flesh they will always endeavour again to procure it.

Humboldt mentions another instance, where an Indian, landing on the banks of a shallow lagoon, was seized by a cayman. With wonderful presence of mind the Indian searched for a knife, but not finding it, he pressed his fingers into its eyes. The monster, however, did not let go, but dragged the unfortunate man down into deep water, and, to the horror of several spectators, was seen swimming off with the poor fellow in its jaws, to devour him on a neighbouring island.

Humboldt states that during the inundations of the Orinoco, alligators have been known to crawl into the streets of Angostura and carry off human beings.

Schombergh once saw an enormous cayman seize one of a smaller species, and bear it away—not, however, without a desperate struggle. In a short time the monsters reappeared, wildly beating the surface with their tails. Now a huge head rose up, now a tail, indistinctly seen in the seething whirlpool. At length, however, the larger was beheld swimming off to a sand-bank, where it immediately began to devour its prey.

THE IGUANA.

See yonder hideous-faced creature, nearly six feet in length, the size of many alligators, its head covered with scaly plates, a huge dewlap depending from its throat, its body and long tail covered with small imbricated scales, its back garnished with a row of spines, and on its thigh a number of porous tubercles, while its legs and claws are wide-spreading.

As it crawls along a bough overhead, the bravest man who had never before seen it would undoubtedly get out of its way, expecting it to leap down and seize him. Yet the iguana, ugly as is its countenance, is perfectly harmless; except that it can give a sharp bite with its compressed triangular and serrated teeth. It lives generally on trees. When hard-pressed it takes to the water, and swims with ease,—pressing its legs close to its sides, and sculling itself on with its tail; while it can remain an hour or more under water without suffering.

The flesh of the iguana, unfortunately for itself, is considered excellent; and hunters go out to catch it with a noose at the end of a long stick, which they cast round its neck, and then by a sudden jerk pull it to the ground. As the creature seems to fancy that it cannot be reached on the bough, it seldom moves on the approach of the hunter, and is thus easily caught. It lashes out with its tail, however, and tries to bite, when once it finds itself entrapped; and being also very tenacious of life, it is not killed without repeated heavy blows, or a pistol-shot in its head.

The common iguanas are numerous in the neighbourhood of villages, where they climb the trees for the sake of their fruit. Some species lay their eggs—which are about an inch and a half in length, and oblong—in hollow trees. Others are known to do so in the sand, to be hatched by the heat of the sun. They are considered delicacies, and are much sought after in consequence.

The colour of the iguana changes, like that of the chameleon. The Brazilians, indeed, call it the chameleon. Its food consists almost entirely of fruits and other vegetable substances, though some species are supposed to be omnivorous. The natives frequently tame it, when it willingly allows itself to be carried about by its owner, though it at once distinguishes strangers.

There are, however, numerous species of iguanas; indeed, the family contains fifty genera—the true iguanas being all inhabitants of the New World. To its predecessor, which it closely resembles in bony structure, the largest is but a mere pigmy—for that extinct monster must have been about seventy feet in length, the length of the tail alone being fifty-two feet, and the circumference of the body fourteen and a half feet; while its thigh-bone was twenty times the size of that of the modern iguana. Vast as was the inhabitant of the ancient world, it was herbivorous, like that of the comparatively Lilliputian creature of the present day.

Everywhere the agile, beautifully-tinted lizards abound, sunning themselves on logs of wood, or scampering over the sandy soil. Now they may be seen turning round the trunk of a tree, much as a squirrel does, watching the passer-by, and trying to keep out of sight. Some are of a dark coppery colour, others have backs of the most brilliant silky green and blue, while others are marked with delicate shades of yellow and brown.

The largest of their family is the teguexin, or variegated lizard. Sometimes it is called the safeguard, from the idea—probably an idle fable—that, like the monitors of the Nile, they give notice of the approach of the alligator by their loud hissing.

There are several species which inhabit the hot, sandy plains, or dense, damp underwood near the rivers and lakes. One of them exceeds five feet in length, and is extremely active. It feeds almost entirely on snakes, frogs, and toads, but occasionally devours poultry, and breakfasts off their eggs. It is also somewhat of a cannibal, for though it will not eat its own species, it does occasionally those of a somewhat smaller lizard allied to it. It possesses strong teeth, and can bite with great force; indeed, when attacked it defends itself fiercely, and when seizing a foe can seldom be compelled to let go.

Its colour is variable, but generally the upper parts of the body are deep black, with mottlings of yellow or green; while on the higher portions of its sides are a series of white spots, the under part being chiefly yellow, with black bands.

The little ameiva, on which it occasionally preys, is of a dark olive colour, speckled with black about the neck.

There is another large lizard, known as the great dragon (Ada Guianensis). It is of an olive colour, with yellow below, and mottled with brown; and frequently attains a length of six feet. While the former cannot climb trees, it is a good swimmer. The great dragon climbs with wonderful agility, but is said not to be very much at home in the water. It also bites fiercely.

Both are hunted for the sake of their flesh; while their eggs—of which thirty or forty are laid—are considered great delicacies.

GECKOS.

Not only in the huts of the natives, but in the abodes of the wealthy white men, hid during the day in dark corners, are numbers of dark grey, hideous-looking lizards, which, when night comes on, crawl rapidly over the walls and ceilings, hunting for the flies and other insects to be found there. Repulsive as are these little geckos, and undeservedly possessing a bad name for being poisonous, they are not only harmless, but render good service by the destruction of numerous household pests. Their large eyes are so constructed that they can discern objects in the dark, and are at the same time capable of bearing the rays of the bright sun. Their colour, too, enables them to escape detection by the creatures which attack them, while they are thus hid from the prey for which they lie in wait. They can also bend themselves in an extraordinary way into hollows and crevices.

But their feet are especially curious, being admirably adapted for clinging to and running over smooth surfaces. The under side of their toes is expanded into cushions, beneath which folds of skin form a series of flexible plates. By means of this apparatus they can run or crawl across a smooth ceiling with their backs downwards—the soft soles, by quick, muscular action, exhausting and admitting air alternately. They are also provided with sharp claws, which enable them to climb up the trunks of trees, and over rough surfaces.

The Brazilians call them osgas, and believe that they poison by their touch whatever they pass over. Probably, however, if any annoyance does arise from them, it is when with their sharp claws they run across a sleeping man, or small blisters have been raised by the adhering apparatus at the bottom of their feet. By some "the spider, which taketh hold with her hands," is believed to be a gecko, as a species of this creature is very common in the East. The popular prejudice against them causes the death of many a poor gecko, who, had he been allowed to live, would have rendered good service to his persecutors. Those in the houses are of small size; but others, existing in the forest, and living in the crevices of the trees, are of considerable magnitude. Their tails are easily struck off—the loss being, however, as is the case with other lizards, repaired by a new growth, though less perfect than the original member.

THE ANACONDA.

With its ill-favoured head protruding above the surface of the water near the banks of slow-flowing rivers, pools, and swamps, the vast anaconda lies in wait for its prey. The fish swimming along in its neighbourhood,—the birds which, rising from the reeds, skim by overhead,—the animals which come to the banks to drink,—even man himself, have cause to dread a blow from the snout, and the powerful coils of the huge water-serpent. Its appearance is most hideous, being very broad in the middle, and tapering abruptly at both ends. Fish, and the smaller animals, it swallows whole; but a larger animal it seizes by the nose with its powerful jaws, and surrounds with the mighty coils of its huge body, pressing one coil upon another till it crushes its prey to death.

Though generally found from twenty to thirty feet in length, it is said to attain a length of forty feet; and one of that size is fully capable of swallowing an ox or horse,—there being many instances of its having been done. Its voracity is prodigious. The French naturalist Firmin found in the stomach of an anaconda a large sloth, an iguana four feet long, and a good-sized ant-bear; all three in the same state almost as when they were swallowed—a proof that they had been captured within a short time. Bates relates that an Indian father with his son went one day in their montario to gather fruit a short distance from Egga, when, landing on a sloping, sandy shore, the boy was left to take care of the canoe while the man entered the forest. The boy was playing in the water under the shade of some myrtle and wild guava trees, when a huge reptile stealthily wound its coils round him. His cries brought the father to the rescue, who, rushing forward, seized the anaconda boldly by the head, and tore its jaws asunder.

This formidable serpent lives to a great age; and Bates heard of a specimen being killed which measured forty-two feet in length. Those he measured were only twenty-one feet long, and two feet in girth. He was a sufferer, on one occasion, from one of these. While on a voyage up the river, his canoe being moored alongside the bank, the neighbourhood of which had been haunted for some time past by one of the creatures, he was awoke a little after midnight, as he lay in his cabin, by a heavy blow struck at the side of the canoe, close to his head. It was succeeded by the sound of a heavy body plunging into the water. When he got up all was again quiet, except the cackle of fowls in the hen-coop, which hung at the side of the vessel, about three feet from the cabin door. In the morning the poultry were found loose about the canoe, two of the fowls being missing; while there was a large rent in the bottom of the hen-coop, raised about two feet from the surface of the water. The Indians went in search of the reptile, which, being found sunning itself on a log at the mouth of a muddy rivulet, was despatched with harpoons.

It is extremely tenacious of life; and though the head may be nearly cut off, and the entrails taken out, it will still move about for a considerable time. It is detested by the farmers on the banks, as it has the habit of carrying off poultry, young calves, or any animal it can get within reach of. It is often seen coiled up in the corner of farm-yards, waiting for its prey.

The statement that the anaconda kills its prey by its pestilent breath, is wholly fabulous. Waterton altogether denies the existence of any odour in the snake's breath. It is possible, however, that some species may produce a horrible stench, from a substance secreted in certain glands near the tail—a fact which has probably given rise to the fable.

THE BOA.

Among the semi-civilised, idolatrous inhabitants of the continent, several snakes were objects of worship. The boa-constrictor especially was regarded as an emblem of strength and power, from its vast size, and the fearful effect produced by its encircling coils as it winds itself round the body of its victim.

See the creature as its shining body moves rapidly among the fallen leaves and dried husks in the forest, rather like a stream of brown liquid than a serpent, with skin of varied colours! Onwards it goes, with scarcely a perceptible serpentine movement. Even the huge trunk of a fallen tree does not stop it, but it glides over the impediment in its undeviating course, making the dry twigs crack and fly off with its weight. Now it stops, watching for its prey. An agouti runs by, regardless of the seeming rivulet; but the hapless creature is seized by the serpent's jaws, and those terrible folds surrounding the body—coil above coil—crush the bones, till it becomes a mere mass of flesh. And now it begins to suck in its prey; not lubricating it, as is generally stated, although a large quantity of saliva surrounds the animal while it is descending the monster's throat. After a time the meal is finished, and the serpent—its body greatly distended—remains at rest, unwilling to move, when it may be easily captured by the daring hunter.

The body of the boa is of a rich brown colour. A broad chain of large black spots, alternating with white, runs along its back; while the scales round the eyes are set in a circle, separated from those of the lips by two rows of smaller scales. The jaws are not united, but attached to the skull by muscles and ligaments, which enable it to dilate the mouth sufficiently to swallow bodies much larger than itself.

The largest grow to a length of thirty feet and upwards; but boas ordinarily do not attain more than twenty feet in length.

THE SPOTTED BOA.

The boa scytale, or spotted boa, is of a greyish colour, marked with round spots, and scarcely inferior in size to the former.

THE RINGED BOA.

There is another species—the ringed boa, or boa cenchris—which, though growing to a considerable size, does not attain that of the former species.

A curious species (the boa canina) has a large head, shaped somewhat like that of a dog; the general colour a bright Saxon-green, with transverse white bars down the back. The sides are of a deeper green, and the belly is white.

Wallace describes a small one only eleven feet in length, but as thick as a man's thigh. It was secured by having a stick tightly tied round the neck. It went about dragging its clog with it, sometimes opening its mouth with a very suspicious yawn, and sometimes turning its tail up into the air. Being put into a cage, and released from the stick, it began to breathe most violently, the expirations sounding like high-pressure steam escaping from a Great Western locomotive.

The boa, however, is not much dreaded in South America, as it seldom or never attacks man; which the anaconda is said always to do, if it can find him unprepared. Stories are told of desperate encounters between travellers in the forests of the Amazon and pythons or boas. A French traveller narrates how, on one occasion, the whole of his attendants took to flight on seeing a huge python approaching,—with the exception of a gallant native, who, attacking the monster vigorously with a long, lithe pole, struck it a blow which paralysed its powers; when, the party returning, it was easily killed.

THE RATTLESNAKE.

Venomous as is the bite of the rattlesnake, and abounding as it does in all parts of the continent, it is less dreaded than many other serpents. It is, in the first place, very sluggish in its habits; and it is happily compelled to bear about it an instrument which gives notice of its approach and intention of biting. The South American rattlesnake— the Boaquira crotalus horridus—has the rattle placed at the end of the tail. It consists of several dry, hard, bony processes, so shaped that the tip of each upper bone runs within two of the bones below it. By this means they have not only a movable coherence, but also make a multiplied sound, each bone hitting against the others at the same time. The rattle is placed with the broad end perpendicular to the body, the first joint being fastened to the last vertebra of the tail by means of a thick muscle under it, as well as by the membranes which unite it to the skin. Indeed, an idea of this curious structure may be formed by placing a number of thimbles one within the other. These bony rings increase in number with the age of the animal; and they are generally found with from five to fourteen. The sound produced has been compared to that of knife-grinding. It cannot be heard at a distance, and in rainy weather is almost inaudible.

The effects of the bite vary according to the season of the year; indeed, at times it will seldom strike a foe, and the venom is comparatively mild in its effects. At other times the poison is of deadly intensity, and, should a large vein be bitten, the victim speedily dies.

Waterton describes handling a number of rattlesnakes—removing them from one apartment to the other—with his hands alone. They hissed and rattled when he meddled with them, but did not offer to bite him. Possibly this might have occurred during the time when they were sluggish, and their venom less deadly.

The little peccary is a great enemy of the rattlesnake, as it is of all other serpents, and ordinary hogs destroy it easily without suffering from its bite; so that as man makes progress through the country and introduces these animals, rattlesnakes speedily disappear.

Although the fascinating powers of the rattlesnake have been doubted, it seems probable that small birds and animals are frequently attracted when they catch sight of it coiled up on the ground below the branches on which they are posted—and, if not fascinated, fall through terror into its open jaws; or it may be that, influenced by the same overpowering impulse which induces human beings to rush into danger, the animal or bird, on beholding its deadly enemy, approaches it against its own will, and is drawn nearer and nearer, till it either falls into the deadly fangs, or comes near enough to be entrapped.

Bates was one day in a forest with a little dog, which ran into a thicket and made a dead-set on a large snake whose head was raised above the herbage. The serpent reared its tail slightly in a horizontal position, and shook its terrible rattle. It was some minutes before he could get the dog away. This shows how slow the reptile is to make the fatal spring.

On another occasion, he heard above his head, as it seemed, a pattering noise, when the wind, which had been blowing, lulling for a few moments, he discovered that it proceeded from the ground, and, turning his head, was startled by a sudden plunge, a heavy gliding motion betraying a large rattlesnake making off almost beneath his feet.

THE FER DE LANCE.

More dreaded than the jaguar or alligator is the jararaca—the native name for the terrible serpent, the fer de lance (Craspedo cephalus lanceolatus). The hideous creature, with brown colour, flat, triangular head, connected to its olive-tinted body by a thin neck, lies coiled up among a heap of leaves, from which it can scarcely be distinguished till the passer-by is close upon it; then suddenly it rears its head, which is armed with four long poisonous fangs, and, darting forward, strikes its victim with a deadly blow. Man, as well as all animals, dreads it— except the hog, and its relative, the little peccary, which are indifferent to the effects of its poison.

On human beings its bite is generally fatal. Bates mentions several instances of death from it, and only one clear case of recovery,—but in that instance the person was lame for life. Although most other serpents fly from man, the jararaca frequently attacks him; leaping from its concealment among the leaves, and inflicting a wound which in a few hours produces death. The first symptoms caused by the poison are convulsions, pains at the heart, and distressing nausea, the whole nervous system appearing to be greatly affected. The only known remedy is the copious use of spirits, a large amount of which is required to counteract the enervating power of the poison.

The jararaca is generally six feet long, but sometimes reaches the length of eight feet. It is marked with dark cross bands, while below it is of a whitish-grey hue, covered with small dark spots.

Even birds seem to have a slight dread of this fearful serpent, and may be seen hovering about the spot where it lies coiled up, uttering cries and screams, produced by fear and anger.

THE BUSHMASTER.

Almost as much dreaded as the jararaca is the enormous cuanacouchi (Lachesis mutus), or bushmaster, as it is called in Demerara. Its proper name is the curucucu. It sometimes reaches to a length of fourteen feet, being the largest known poisonous snake. It is equally remarkable for the glowing radiance of its fearful beauty, displaying as it does, when gliding amid the sunshine, all the prismatic colours. Though generally remaining on the ground, it mounts trees with perfect ease in search of its prey—birds or their eggs; while from the overhanging bough it can dart down on the unwary passer-by.

It is said that furious battles sometimes occur between snakes of different species,—that the boa will watch for the rattlesnake as it issues from its hole,—or that the latter will sally forth, and, relying on its envenomed fangs for victory, attack the huge boa as it glides by; though, as no naturalists appear to have witnessed such combats, it may be doubted whether they ever take place. But we may fancy how desperate would be the strife between a python and the venomous bushmaster of Demerara.

LABARRI, OR ELAPS LEMNISCATUS.

The labarri—another beautiful snake, adorned with the colours of the rainbow—produces certain death by its envenomed bite. It, too, is a tree-climber, and may be seen lying coiled up on a low, thick branch or decayed stump, or sometimes on the bare ground, apparently selecting spots where it can be least easily distinguished. Though generally smaller than the bushmaster, it attains a length of eight feet or more.

WHIP SNAKES.

There are two or three species of whip snakes, or Dryadidae, remarkable for the slender elegance of their forms, and in general for the great beauty of their colouring, as well as for the rapidity of their movements. The whip snake, having seized its prey, winds its light and lithe body round its victim, coil upon coil, like the boa and anaconda, and strangles it in its embrace.

The emerald whip snake (Philodryas viridissimus) is one of the most beautiful. So slender is its body that, although two feet long or more, it can coil itself up within a space not larger than the hollow of the hand. It lives in trees, and may be seen sporting amid the branches; but the moment it catches sight of a person, away it darts, scarcely moving the branches and leaves amid which it makes its way.

THE GREEN SNAKE.

Delicate in form, and of the brightest grass-green—while, like the rest of its family, perfectly harmless—the green snake is a great favourite with the Brazilians; and as it is easily tamed, young girls may often be seen carrying it about, winding it round their throats or wrists, forming it into living necklaces or bracelets. It lives in trees, among the green foliage, over which it rapidly glides in search of insects— its usual food.

FROGS AND TOADS.

Frogs abound of all sizes, living in marshes, some on dry ground, and others inhabitants of trees—many with voices which resound loudly through the midnight air. Toads, too, are numerous, some of enormous size. They may be seen on bare, sandy places—huge fellows, seven inches in length and three in height—crawling over the ground, utterly indifferent to the appearance of a stranger among them.

Among the frogs is the curious tingeing frog (Hylaplesia tinctoria), which is an inhabitant of the forest. It may be seen during the day crawling along the branches, but at night it takes up its abode under the loose bark. Except during the breeding season, it seldom visits the water. It then, like the rest of its species, goes there for the purpose of depositing its eggs. It is generally of a dark colour— sometimes quite black—with a white spot on the head and two white lines running along each side.

It gains its name from the use the Indians are said to make of it. They employ it as they do the parrot-fish, to give a different colour to the plumage of their parrots. To do this they pull out the feathers from the spots to which they wish to impart a new tint, and then rub the blood of the frog into the wounded skin. When the new feathers grow, they are said to be of a bright yellow or vermilion hue.

The bi-coloured tree-frog (Phyllomedusa bicolour) is of considerable size, and is the only one of its family at present known. The upper part of the body is of the deepest azure-blue, while the under parts are of a pure white, sometimes of a rosy tinge. The thighs and sides are spotted with the same tinge as the abdomen.

Darwin found a curious little toad, the Phryniscus nigricans, on the dry sandy soil of the Pampas, "which looked," he says, "as if it had been steeped in the blackest ink, and then, when dry, allowed to crawl over a board freshly painted with the brightest vermilion."

Instead of being nocturnal in its habits, as other toads are, and living in obscure recesses, it crawls about over dry hillocks and arid plains during the day, where not a single drop of water can be found. It depends on the dew for its moisture, which is probably absorbed by the skin. The creature seems to dread water, and is utterly unable to swim.

THE SURINAM TOAD.

The Surinam toad is one of the most curious, though, at the same time, among the most hideous of batrachians. It is remarkable on account of the extraordinary way in which its young are developed. The skin of the female is separated, as is the case with others of its family, from the muscles of the back, and is nearly half an inch thick. She deposits her eggs, or spawn, at the brink of some stagnant water, when the male manages to take them up in his paws and places them on her back, where they adhere by means of a glutinous secretion, and are pressed into cells which, at that time, are open to receive them. Gradually the cells are closed by a membrane which grows over them, when her back greatly resembles a piece of honeycomb, the cells of which are filled and closed. Here, in the course of about three months, the eggs are hatched, and the creatures undergo the usual change of the rest of the genus; first assuming the form of tadpoles, and gradually acquiring their complete shape. When perfected, and possessed of their limbs, they work their way out of the cells; and it is a curious sight to see them struggling out—their head and paws projecting in all directions from their mother's back—and sliding down on the ground, when they begin to hop merrily about.

The cells are considerably deeper than wide, and each would contain an ordinary bean thrust endwise into it. The head of the creature is of an unusual shape, as it has a snout with nostrils lengthened into a kind of tube. The skin is of a brownish-olive above, and white below; and is covered with a number of small, hard granules, with some horny tubercular projections among them. After the brood have left the mother's back, the cells again fill up—the whole process occupying about eight days.

In spite of the repulsive appearance of the creature, the negroes occasionally eat it.

TORTOISES.

Tortoises (Testudinata, or Chelonians) belong to a very numerous order of reptiles, the usual form of which is too well known to require description. They are shut up, as it were, in a box and breast-plate: the carapace and plastron, in reality, are external developments of certain parts of the skeleton.

The land tortoises have the strongest plastrons. In some species it is slightly movable, but generally fixed by a uniting suture. In one—the pyxis—the plastron is furnished with a transverse hinge, so that the animal can retract its head and fore-limbs within the carapace, and close the plastron upon it, first shutting them in. In another—the kinixis—the carapace has the posterior portion distinct from the anterior, and movable, so as to shield the hind-limbs and tail.

In water tortoises, or turtles, as they are generally called, the plastron is united to the edges of the carapace by intervening cartilage, and not by suture. The jaws of tortoises are not furnished with teeth, but are cased in horny coverings, resembling somewhat the sharp hooked beak of a parrot; which enable them either to crop and mince the vegetable aliment on which most of them live, or to masticate the small, living animals, such as birds and reptiles, of which the food of others consists. Round the outside of this beak are thick fleshy lips.

In the curious matamata, the jaws of which open very wide, these parts, instead of being armed by a strong beak, are protected by a sheath of horn.

In the land tortoises, the feet are stump-like, the toes being enveloped in the skin, so that they can move but slowly. The marsh and lake tortoises have their feet palmated, to enable them to move either on the water or on land. In the turtles, these limbs appear in the form of broad, flat, undivided paddles, well-adapted for moving in the water, but awkward as instruments of locomotion, even on the level, sandy shores to which they resort at the breeding season.

The tortoise has a fleshy tongue like that of a parrot. The brain is but slightly developed, scarcely filling the cavity of the skull in the marine species. At the same time, the animal possesses great muscular irritability, and extreme tenacity of life. All are oviparous, and bury their eggs, which are hatched by the warmth of the sun. The water tortoises, when seen below the surface, move like birds in the air, the paddles flapping like wings.

The order is divided into four groups: first, Chersians, or the land tortoises; second, the Elodians, or marsh tortoises; third, the Potamians, or river tortoises; fourth, the Thalassians, or sea tortoises, generally called turtles. These groups are again variously subdivided.

The waters of Tropical America abound with the second and third families. The Elodians, found in the shallow pools of the Amazonian Valley, swim with facility, and move quickly over the ground. They feed not only on vegetables, but prey on living animals—river molluscs, and other water creatures.

The Potamians, which are found in vast numbers in the larger rivers, grow to a great size,—some weighing seventy pounds. They feed much as the last described. They swim with ease, both on the surface and at mid-water. The upper part of the body is generally brown or grey, with regular dotted spots; while the under parts are pale white, rosy, and bluish. When they seize their food, they dart out their heads and long necks with the rapidity of arrows, and bite sharply with their trenchant beaks, not letting go till they have taken the piece out. The females are said to be far more numerous than the males; indeed, Father Gumilla, describing the turtles of the Orinoco, states what might be doubted,— that "in each nest of eggs there is one, larger than the rest, from which the male is hatched. All the others are females." The eggs are spherical; their shell solid, but membraneous or slightly calcareous.

A further description of them will be given when the mode in which they are captured is described. The species, however, deserves particular notice.

THE CHELYS MATAMATA.

Grotesque, and unlike what we fancy a reality,—such as those creatures which the wild imagination of the painters of bygone days delighted in producing,—is the curious matamata (Chelys matamata), found along the banks of the Amazon, as well as in Guiana. It is covered with armour on the back, neck, and head. On its head it wears what looks like a curiously-shaped helmet, with a long tube in front, which serves as a snout; while its feet are webbed, and armed with sharp claws at the end of its thick, powerful legs. From the chin hang down two fringe-like membranes, and the throat and neck are similarly ornamented. It is often three feet long; and, from its formidable appearance, it might easily make a stranger eager to get out of its way. This helmet consists of two membraneous prolongations of the skin, which project on either side from its broad and flattened head. A long, flexible, double tube forms its snout. The shield on the back is marked with three distinct ridges, or keels, along it, and is broader before than behind. It has a stumpy, pointed tail.

This curious monster, concealing itself among the reeds on the bank, lies in wait for its prey, darting forward its long neck, and seizing with its sharp beak any passing fish, reptile, or water-fowl; or, should they not come near enough, it swims at a great rate after its prey.



PART THREE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

WONDERS OF INSECT LIFE.

TERMITES, OR WHITE ANTS.

The great ant-eater, dozing during the hot hours of the day within the shady coverts of the forest, sallies forth in the cool of the evening to search for its insect prey on the open Campos. The surface of the ground is there, in many districts, raised into conical hillocks, some five feet in height, and streaked by lines which differ in colour from the surrounding earth, and lead in all directions, over decayed timber and the roots of herbage, from one hillock to the other. These hillocks are the habitations of those curious small pale-coloured and soft-bodied insects called termites, or white ants. They differ very greatly from the true ants in their mode of growth, or metamorphosis, though similar to them in their habits.

The true ant, when emerging from the egg, is a footless grub, and remains in the pupa, or quiescent stage, inclosed in a membrane, till its limbs are developed. The termites at once possess the form they are to bear through life, except that the sexual individuals, during the latter stages of their growth, gradually acquire eyes and wings. They belong, indeed, to two very dissimilar orders of insects. The ant-bear, however, never troubles himself about this matter; but, scraping away with his powerful claws, soon breaks open the citadel which the industrious insects have formed during days of unremitting toil.

The mounds of the termites differ in composition. Some, consisting of earth, are worked into a substance as hard as stone. The coloured lines on the ground mark the covered ways which lead from the places where the insects obtain their food, or the materials for their habitations. The mounds exhibit no openings for egress or ingress. They are often formed by several distinct species of termites, each of which keeps to its own portion of the mounds, and uses different materials. Within the fortress exist a vast number of chambers, with galleries connecting them, composed sometimes of particles of earth, and at others of vegetable matter, cemented by the saliva of the insects. As they live on dry food, and in regions where no water is found, it is supposed that they may possess the power of combining, by vital force, the oxygen and hydrogen of their vegetable food, and thus form water. This supposition, if correct, accounts for the large amount of liquid which they employ in the construction of their cells. The inhabitants of these structures consist of differently formed insects, employed in various distinct occupations. The most numerous are the labourers, who have to toil for the benefit of the community. They are sexless and blind; yet, without the power of sight, they are ceaselessly employed in the construction of these curious mounds, or in taking care of the young, and in collecting and bringing in food for the support of the population. Then come the soldiers, who defend the fortress, or, as more frequently happens, sacrifice themselves for the protection of the rest. The two most important personages of the community are the king and queen, who are the parents of future colonies. These are always found in every perfect termitarium. There are also a large number of winged termites, male and female, who, at a certain period of the year— generally at the commencement of the rainy season—issue forth from the hive into the world. Although a large number are destroyed, a few escape, and, pairing, become the parents of fresh colonies. The formation of a new citadel or colony takes place somewhat in the following manner:—On a mound becoming overstocked, a party of workers, guarded by a body of soldiers, issue forth, and commence a fresh edifice at a distance from the old one. Here they form a large cell in the centre, surrounded by numerous galleries leading to smaller cells. From thence they run their covered ways, in suitable directions, towards spots whence they can obtain their necessary supplies of food and building materials. This being accomplished, they go in search of a royal pair; whom, when they have found, under a leaf or clod of earth, they conduct into the interior cell, where they are installed in due state. The newly-married couple, who have by this time got rid of their wings, are considerably larger than the rest of the population, but are helpless individuals, having neither the power of working nor fighting. The king soon dies; but his consort, instead of pining for his loss, sets herself to work for the benefit of posterity, by laying a countless number of eggs. As soon as these are deposited the workers carry them off, and place them in the cells, where they watch over them with the most vigilant care, supplying the larvae with food as soon as they are hatched; and when the nursery becomes full, carrying some off in their mouths to another cell. While some are thus employed, others increase the size of their abode by running fresh corridors round the edifice, and forming new cells; while other parties, protected by soldiers, are foraging far and wide for food for the ever-increasing population.

In process of time—always within twelve months—the numberless progeny of the queen become full-grown. Some become developed into labourers, with smooth, rounded heads, and mouths adapted for carrying loads and working up the materials for the construction of their abodes; others— the fighting class—have heads of large size, provided with pointed weapons of defence of various shapes, resembling, in different species, horns, pikes, rams; while others are furnished with powerful jaws, resembling either sabres, swords, or sickles. A third class appear with eyes, and long, delicate wings—gay, happy creatures, far better formed, it would seem, to enjoy existence than their hard-working brethren. These are the males and females of the community. When they are prepared to issue forth from their birth-place, the labourers busily set to work to clear a passage to allow of their speedy egress. This takes place generally on a damp, close evening or cloudy morning. Countless numbers issue forth at intervals, till the whole progeny of males and females have emerged from their pupa state. They make a loud rustling noise as they fly through the air in all directions; but they are immediately set upon by numberless enemies,—goatsuckers, lizards, spiders, and ants,—who greedily eat them up. On reaching the ground they immediately divest themselves of their wings; and the few pairs which escape from their foes seek safety in some hollow beneath a leaf or lump of earth, where they await the arrival of the faithful labourers, who now come forth in search of them, and conduct them, as has before been said, to the newly-formed abode prepared for their reception. And thus the wonderful process goes forward year after year.

So utterly helpless are these males and females, that, were it not for the assistance of other individuals, the race would speedily become extinct. The warrior termites are utterly regardless of personal safety. When their castle is attacked, they appear in vast numbers at the breach, to cover the retreat of the labourers. As the long tongue of the ant-eater is projected among them, they throw themselves on it; and no sooner is one regiment swallowed up than another rushes out to take its place—thus, by the sacrifice of themselves, enabling the rest of the community to seek safety in flight.

SAUBA ANTS.

Of the numerous true ants which exist in all parts of Tropical America, the sauba is one of the most remarkable. In all parts of the country— as well near the abodes of man as in the distant wilds—large mounds are seen, two feet in length, and often upwards of forty yards in circumference, and distinguished from the surrounding soil by the difference of colour. Yet these mounds are merely the domes or upper works of the vast subterranean galleries which run for enormous distances and to great depths below the surface. Unlike the termites, the armies go forth in open daylight in vast hordes, to obtain food or materials for the construction of their wonderful habitations. Sometimes, many hundred yards away from these mounds, the whole ground seems covered with animated leaves, each of the size of a sixpence, moving at a steady pace over the ground. Each leaf is held vertically in the mandibles of an ant, which is conveying it for the purpose of thatching the domes which cover the entrance to its subterranean abode; the roof thus formed protecting the cells beneath, rilled with young, from the heavy rains. Going in the direction whence the army is seen coming, we may find a tree covered by innumerable multitudes employed in cutting off leaves. Here the labourers are protected by the warrior class, who appear also to perform the duties of overlookers, and keep them to their tasks. Each ant, on gaining a leaf, commences with its scissor-like jaws to make a semicircular incision on the upper side. It then takes it into its jaws, and detaches it by a sharp jerk. Having done this, it descends to the ground, and joining its comrades, who have been similarly employed, they return with their loads to the colony. Frequently, however, while an ant is up the tree, the piece of leaf falls to the ground, when it sets to work to cut off another; while fresh labourers appear, to carry away the pieces which have thus accumulated.

The sauba ants are greatly dreaded by the inhabitants, as they frequently attack their coffee and orange-trees, and utterly destroy them. Sometimes, indeed, plantations have to be abandoned in consequence of the inroads of these persevering insects.

The body of the sauba ant is of a pale reddish-brown colour, and of a solid consistency. The head is armed with a pair of sharp spines, while the thorax has three pairs of the same character.

There appear to be three orders of workers among them, greatly differing in size. One order has an enormously large head; the head of another is very highly polished; while that of a third is opaque—to enable it, apparently, to perform the duties of a subterranean labourer. The earth of which the domes of the sauba ants are composed is brought up from a considerable depth below. There are numerous entrances leading to the galleries, but, under ordinary circumstances, they are kept closed. The smaller galleries lead, at a depth of several feet, to a broad, elaborately-worked tunnel of four or five inches in diameter, which conducts downwards to the centre chamber; the abode of the royal pair, on whom devolves—as is the case with the termites—the duty of propagating the species. Here they are guarded much in the same way by the labourers, who deposit the eggs in the cells, and finally assist in the exit of the winged males and females—which fly forth to be destroyed in vast numbers, the few who remain becoming the parents of other families.

The female winged ants are of considerable size, measuring fully two and a quarter inches across the wings. The male is very much smaller.

The royal chamber is curiously constructed. As soon as the newly-wedded pair are conducted within, the workers, who are themselves much smaller, so diminish the size of the entrance that it is impossible for the king and queen to escape. Round it are numerous exits and entrances, through which the workers convey the eggs when laid. The queen, after the death of her consort, lives for two or three years, employed during the whole of the time in laying eggs, at the rate of fifty in a minute. This will give some idea of the rapid increase of the population.

The workers vary somewhat in size and appearance. While a large number are employed in bringing in leaves and granules of earth for thatching their domes, as well as various sorts of provision, others are engaged in tending the royal chamber—carrying the eggs to the cells, and watching over the young. There is another class, whose heads are covered with hairs, and who appear to be employed entirely below ground, probably as excavators or tunnellers.

Like the Cyclops, they have in the centre of their forehead a single eye, very different in structure to the compound eyes on the sides of their head. The other workers do not possess this peculiar frontal eye, nor is it found in any other species of ant.

It is wonderful what extensive tunnels these ants will form. Near Rio de Janeiro a tunnel was discovered, excavated by the creatures under the River Parahiba, as broad as the Thames at London Bridge. Near Para they, on one occasion, pierced the embankment of a large reservoir to such an extent as to allow the escape of a vast body of water before the damage could be repaired. In the same neighbourhood an attempt was made to destroy their colonies, by blowing fumes of sulphur down the galleries by means of bellows. Mr Bates relates, that he saw smoke issuing from a vast number of outlets, one of which was seventy yards distant from the place where the bellows were used.

They wander to a great distance in search of plunder, and enter houses for the purpose of carrying off the farina or mandioca meal. The same naturalist relates that he was one night awoke by his servant telling him that rats were robbing the farina baskets. On listening, he was certain that the noise was unlike that made by rats. On going to the storeroom he there found a broad column of sauba ants, consisting of thousands of individuals, passing to and fro between the door and his baskets of meal. Most of those passing outwards were loaded each with a grain of farina, larger and many times heavier than the bodies of the carriers. The baskets, which were on a high table, were entirely covered with ants, many hundreds of whom were employed in snipping the dry leaves which served as a lining; and this had produced the rustling sound which had disturbed him. He and his servant in vain attempted to exterminate them by killing them with their wooden clogs. Fresh hosts came on to take the place of the slain. The next night they returned, when he attempted to get rid of them by laying trains of gunpowder along their line to blow them up. Not, however, till he had repeated this operation several times, did the survivors of the daring depredators retreat.

THE AMPHISBAENA.

A curious snake, with something the character of the English slow-worm, the amphisbaena—called by the natives Mai das Saubas, or the mother of the saubas—is frequently found in these mounds. The natives believe that the ants treat it with great affection, and will, if the snake is removed, leave the spot. It is probable, however, that the amphisbaena takes up its abode in the nest for the convenience of devouring the inhabitants, whenever unable to procure other food.

Some of the American ants are of great size. One species (the Dinoponera grandis) is an inch and a quarter in length, and proportionally stout. It is seen marching in single file through the forest; but though of considerable size, its sting is not severe, while there is nothing particularly interesting about its habits.

ECITONS.

There are, however, several species of foraging ants, called ecitons, which move in vast bodies through the forest in search of prey. They are carnivorous, and attack not only insects and grubs of all sorts, but even other ants,—assaulting their citadels and carrying off the slaughtered inhabitants. The natives, when they meet them in the forest, hurry out of their way, to avoid their fierce attacks. Their communities appear to be composed, besides males and females, of two classes of workers, one with head and jaws very much larger than the others.

One species of these foraging ants is known as the Eciton rapax, the larger workers among which are half an inch in length.

The two common species of ecitons are, Eciton hamata and Eciton drepanophora, which are very similar in their habits and appearance.

They are of the most pugnacious character, and a person incautiously getting in their midst finds himself furiously attacked. They climb up his legs, and, holding on by their pincer-like jaws, double in their tails, and sting with all their might. The natives, on seeing them, cry out, "Tauoca"—the name which they give to the ecitons—and scamper off to a distance. The only way of getting rid of them is to pluck them out one by one; but so securely do they fasten themselves to the skin, that their head and jaws are left sticking to it.

As they advance through the forest, the creatures on which they prey endeavour to get out of their way; but vast numbers of maggots, caterpillars, larvae, and ants of other species fall victims to their ferocity. They advance in a long column live or six deep, while thinner columns forage on either flank, till they arrive at a mass of rotten wood abounding in insect larvae, when they surround it, and do not again move forward till every particle of food has been carried off!

When they discover a wasp's nest, they attack the papery covering to get at the larvae pupae and newly-hatched wasps. In spite of the rage of the parents, who vainly keep flying about them, they carry off their spoil in fragments; the carriers having their loads apportioned to their size—the dwarfs taking the smaller pieces, and the stronger fellows the heavier portions. Sometimes two ants join in carrying one piece.

ROBBER ECITONS.

Another species (the Eciton legionis) has been known to attack other ants' nests for the sake of plunder. Mr Bates saw an army of them employed on the face of an inclined bank of earth. They were excavating mines to get at the nest of a larger species of ant of the genus Formica. Some were rushing into the passages, others were seen assisting their comrades to lift out the bodies of the formicae, while others were tearing them in pieces—their weight being too great for that of a single eciton. A number of carriers then seized each a fragment and carried it down the slope. When the naturalist dug into the earth with a small trowel, the eager freebooters rushed in as fast as he excavated, and carried off the ants, so rapidly tearing them in pieces that he had great difficulty in rescuing a few entire specimens.

The little ecitons seemed to be divided into parties, some excavating, others carrying away the grains of earth. When the shafts became rather deep, the mining parties had to climb up the sides each time they wished to cast out a pellet of earth; but their work was lightened by their comrades, who stationed themselves at the mouth of the shaft and relieved them of their burdens, carrying the particles to a sufficient distance from the edge of the hole to prevent them rolling in again. All the work seemed thus to be performed by intelligent co-operation among the host of eager little creatures. Still, there was not a rigid division of labour; for some of them, whose proceedings he watched, acted at one time as carriers of pellets, and at another as miners, and all shortly afterwards assumed the office of conveyers of the spoil. In about two hours, all the nests of the formicae were rifled.

He frequently saw these little creatures engaged apparently in play, in the neighbourhood of their homes. Some were walking slowly about, others were brushing their antennae with their fore-feet; but the drollest sight was to see them cleaning one another. Here and there an ant was seen stretching forth first one leg, then another, to be brushed or washed by one or more of its comrades; who performed the task by passing the limb between the jaw and the tongue, finishing by giving the antennae a friendly wipe.

There are two species of blind ecitons—which, however, go on foraging expeditions, and even attack the nests of other stinging species; but, avoiding the light, they move always under leaves and fallen branches: when the columns have to pass a cleared space, the ants form covered ways with granules of earth, arched over and holding together mechanically.

BLIND ANTS.

Two other species—Eciton vastator, and Eciton erratica—both of which are blind, move entirely under covered ways in search of promising hunting-grounds. Their arcades are sometimes two hundred yards in length, the grains of earth being taken from the soil over which the column is passing, and fitted together without cement. In this they are distinguished from the covered ways made by the termites, who use a glutinous saliva for cementing their edifices. These blind ecitons build up the side of their convex arcade, and in a wonderful manner contrive so to fit in the key-stones, without allowing the loose uncemented structure to fall to pieces. Whenever a breach is made in any of their covered ways, the workers remain behind to repair the damage, while the soldiers issue forth in a menacing manner, rearing their heads, and snapping their jaws with an expression of fiercest rage and defiance.

The above account will give some idea of the vast numbers and varieties of the termites and ants of this region, and of the wonderful way in which Providence has furnished them with the means of sustaining existence, and taking their part in the economy of nature. Science is deeply indebted to Mr Bates, for his persevering efforts and acute observation in making known the varieties and habits of these curious insects.

CENTIPEDS—COCKROACHES—FIRE-ANTS.

Although the rest of the animal creation is small compared with the creatures of the Eastern world, insects and reptiles attain a size which will vie with those of any portion of the globe. Here we have a centiped nearly a foot in length, with innumerable legs, and two horns or feelers, which it protrudes with the most venomous expression. These animals are not only hideous to look on, but their bite is very painful, though not dangerous.

Cockroaches swarm everywhere; but the fire-ant is, for its size, probably the most terrible of created beings. Its bite produces the most acute pain; and where they swarm, on the dry sandy shores of the streams, they frequently compel the natives to desert their villages. Mrs Agassiz mentions having on one occasion hung some towels to dry on the cord of her hammock, and was about to remove them, when suddenly her hand and arm seemed plunged into fire. She dropped the towels as if they were hot coals, which for the moment they literally seemed to be. She then saw that her arm was covered with little brown ants. A native brushed them off in all haste; and an army of them was found passing over the hammock, and out of the window, near which it hung. He said they were on their way somewhere, and if left undisturbed would be gone in an hour or so.

INSECTS—FIRE-FLIES.

Of those diamonds of the night, the fire-flies and fire-beetles, there are numerous species. One of the most abundant—and of much larger dimensions than the rest of the elaters or beetles—pyrophorus noctilucus, called by the natives cocuja, displays both red and green light. On the upper surface of the thorax there are two oval tubercles, hard and transparent, like bull's-eye lights let into a ship's deck. These are windows out of which shine a vivid green luminousness, which appears to fill the interior of the chest. Then on the under surface of the body, at the base of the abdomen, there is a transverse orifice in the shelly skin, covered with a delicate membrane, which glows with a strong ruddy light; visible, however, only when the wing-cases are expanded. It is about an inch and a half long, of a brown colour, and has a strong spine situated beneath the thorax, which fits at pleasure into a small cavity on the upper part of the abdomen. By means of this machine it can, when placed on its back, spring up a couple of inches, and regain its feet. When preparing to do this it moves its head and thorax backwards, so that the pectoral spine is drawn out and rests on the edge of the sheath. The same backward movement being continued, the spine, by the full action of the muscles, is bent like a spring, and the insect at this moment rests on the extremity of its head and wing cases. The effort being suddenly relaxed, the head and thorax fly up, and in consequence the base of the wing-cases strike the supporting surface with such force that the insect by the reaction is jerked upward, while the projecting points of the thorax and the sheath of the spine serve to steady the whole body.

So brilliant is the light of these creatures, that even one moved over the print of a book wall enable a person to read by it, while eight or ten placed in a clear glass bottle serve the purpose of a lamp. The Brazilian ladies ornament their dresses with these fire-beetles, by securing them so as not to injure the creatures; while they frequently wear several in the braids of their dark hair, which, when they walk abroad in the evening, has a curious and beautiful effect. [Gosse and Darwin.]

Prescott relates that when the Spaniards first invaded America, on seeing the air filled with cocujas during the darkness of night, their excited imaginations converted them into an army with matchlocks, and they waited, expecting to be attacked by an overwhelming force. A similar story is told of the British, when first landing in the West Indies, being induced to hastily re-embark on seeing at night innumerable lights moving about, which they supposed were Spaniards approaching to defend the shore.

SUSPENDED COCOONS.

The forests of Brazil exhibit numerous beautiful examples of insect workmanship. Among others is the work of a caterpillar—a cocoon about the size of a sparrow's egg, woven in broad meshes of either buff or rose-coloured silk, and seen suspended from the tip of an outstanding leaf by a strong thread, five or six inches in length. It forms a conspicuous object hung thus in mid-air. The glossy threads with which it is knitted are stout, and the structure is not likely therefore to be torn by the beaks of insectivorous birds; while its pendulous position makes it doubly secure against their attacks, as the apparatus gives way when they peck at it. There is a small orifice at each end of the egg-shaped bag, to admit of the escape of the moth when it changes from the little chrysalis which sleeps tranquilly in its airy cage.

Other caterpillars form cases with fragments of wood or leaves, in which they live secure from their enemies, whilst they are feeding and growing. Some of these, composed of small bits of stick, are knitted together with fine silken threads, and others make tubes very like the cadis-worms of English ponds. Others choose leaves, with which they form an elongated bag, open at both ends, having the insides lined with thick webs. As the weight of one of these dwellings would be greater than the caterpillar inside could sustain, it attaches the case by one or more threads to the leaves or twigs near which it is feeding.

LANTERN-FLY.

There is a large and beautiful insect, with an enormous transparent prolongation of the forehead, which is supposed to have a resemblance to a lantern: it is called the lantern-fly (Fulgora laternaria). Though often described as possessing luminous properties, it is now known to be destitute of any phosphorescence whatever.

THE TANANA.

[Chlorocelus tanana.]

Often through the woods a loud, sharp, resonant stridulation is heard, sounding like the syllables "Ta, na, na," succeeding each other with little intermission. It is produced by a species of wood cricket, called by the natives after the sound it produces. The total length of the body is two inches and a quarter when the wings are closed. The insect has an inflated bladder-like shape, owing to the great convexity of the thin, firm, parchmenty wing-cases; the little creature being of a pale green colour. The instrument by which it produces its music is contrived out of the ordinary nervures of the wing-case. In each wing-case the under edge of the wing itself has a horny lobe. On one wing this lobe has a sharp raised margin, on the other the strong membrane which traverses it on the under side is crossed by a number of fine and sharp furrows like those of a file. When the insect rapidly moves its wings, the file of the one lobe is scraped sharply across the horny margin of the other, thus producing the sounds; the parchmenty wing-cases and the hollow drum-like space they enclose assisting to give resonance to the tones. These notes are the call notes of the males, inviting a mate to his burrow. [Bates.]

WOOD BEETLES.

Enormous as are the trees of the Amazonian forests, and able to withstand the fiercest storms, they have frequently to succumb to the attacks of minute insects. Many a monarch of the woods has been brought low by the efforts of the persevering termites; but they have other enemies. The palm-trees are assailed by a group of beetles (the Histeridae) which take possession of the moist interior of their stems. One of these is an enormous fellow—the hister maximus. Another group have their bodies as thin as wafers, to enable them to live in the narrow crevices of the bark. One set of species, however (the trypanaeus), are totally different, being cylindrical in shape. They drill holes in the solid wood, and look like tiny animated gimlets when seen at work; their pointed heads being fixed in the wood, while their smooth glossy bodies work rapidly round so as to create little streams of sawdust from the holes.

The caribi, which in Europe perform the important duty of scavengers, and live on the ground, are in South America nearly always found on trees. Some are of enormous size.

The Hercules beetle, which lives on the mamma Americana, attains a length of five and sometimes six inches. It is known by the singular horn-shaped proboscis rising from the head and thorax, which gives it so formidable an appearance. Its duty is probably to eat up the rotten wood.

Other members of the family,—known as the elephant, Neptune, and typhon,—excavate burrows in the earth, living on the decomposed trunks of trees during the day, and flying about at night with a loud humming noise—apparently to enjoy the air, of which they are deprived in the daytime.

The megasominae is of an enormous size, as is also the beautiful Inca beetle.

Among the most beautiful beetles in the Brazils is the diamond beetle (Entrinus nobilis), of a lustrous azure green, and with golden wings. With it, and other species, the ladies form necklaces, and ornament their dresses.

In Venezuela, the cactus plants, which grow so abundantly, serve to nourish the valuable though odd-looking little coccus cacti. The male and female differ greatly. The female resembles a Lilliputian tortoise, and is of a dark brown colour, with two light spots on the back covered with white powder. The male, possessed of a pair of wings, is much smaller, and roves about at will from plant to plant. The female, a short time after she has become full-grown, secures herself to a leaf, where she remains immovable. She now grows to such a size, that she more resembles a seed belonging to a plant than an insect, all her limbs being completely concealed by her wide-expanded body. In process of time, before the young insects are born, the cochineal-gatherers detach the insect by means of a knife dipped in boiling water, which kills them. They are then dried in the sun, and appear like small dry berries of a deep mulberry colour.

SPIDERS.

Fear-inspiring is the appearance of the great crab-spider—the Mygale avicularia, one genus of the formidable Arachnida family—with a body two inches in length, and, when the legs are expanded, seven inches across, covered entirely with coarse grey, reddish hairs. It lives among the rocks in the drier regions; some dwell under stones, others form artistic tunnels under the earth, and some build their dens in the thatch of houses. Bates one day saw some Indian children with one of these monsters secured by a cord round its waist, by which they were leading it about the house as they would a dog. The hairs with which it is covered come off when touched, and cause a peculiar and almost maddening irritation. This is, however, probably owing to their being short and hard, and thus getting into the fine creases of the skin, and not to any poisonous quality residing in the hairs. These monstrous spiders prey on lizards, small birds, and other diminutive vertebrates. Their muscular power is very great. When the creature is about to seize its prey, it fixes its hind-feet firmly in the ground, and lifting up the front ones, darts them forward, and fastens them with the double hooks which terminate its feet between the cranium and the first vertebra, thus preventing the possibility of their escaping. Nothing will then tear it from its prey. When pressed by hunger, it climbs at night the trees and shrubs in which humming-birds and other small birds are perched, or have built their nests, and springing on them, grasps them with its powerful claws. It seizes the anolis, a kind of water-lizard, in the same way. The fact of its seizing on birds, so long doubted, though asserted by Madame Marian, the French naturalist, has been corroborated by Monsieur Jonnes, her countryman. He states that it spins no web to serve it as a dwelling, but burrows and lies in ambush in the cliffs and hollow ravines. It often travels to a considerable distance, and conceals itself under leaves, thence to dart out on its prey; or it climbs along the branches of trees to surprise the humming-birds and other small tree-creepers. Bates still further settles the point.

With regard to the habits of another species which does spin a web, he says that, catching sight of one of these spiders, he was attracted by its movements. It was in the crevices of a tree, across which was stretched a dense web. The lower portion of the web was broken, and two small birds,—finches,—were entangled in the pieces. They were the size of the English linnet, and probably male and female. One was quite dead, the other lay dying under the body of the spider, and was smeared with the filthy liquor or saliva exuded by the monster.

The mygale carries its eggs enclosed in a cocoon of white silk of a very close tissue, formed of two round pieces uniting at their borders. It supports this cocoon under its corselet by means of its antennulae, and transports it along with itself. When hard-pressed by its enemies, it abandons it for a time, but returns to take it up as soon as the combat is concluded. Nearly two thousand eggs are contained in these cocoons.

The young ones when they appear are entirely white, gradually assuming the colour of the adult.

The falces, or reaping-hook claws, of the great crab-spider are of enormous size, and ai-e sometimes set in gold and used as toothpicks, from the idea that they possess some medicinal virtue to cure the toothache.

The different species vary very much in their habits. One big fellow— the Mygale Blondii—forms a broad slanting gallery about two feet in length, the sides of which he lines beautifully with silk. Just before sunset he may be seen keeping watch near the mouth of his tunnel, disappearing suddenly when he hears a heavy foot-tread near his hiding-place.

Many are of the most showy colours. Some double themselves up at the base of leaf-stalks, so as to resemble a flower, and thus deceive the insects on which they prey. One of the most extraordinary in appearance—the Arosoma arcuatum—has two curved, bronze-coloured spines, an inch and a half in length, proceeding from its abdomen. It spins a large web, those huge spikes apparently being no impediment to its work.

BEES AND WASPS.

Bees and wasps of a countless number of species abound in every region of the continent. Some build their habitations, composed of a papery substance, attached to the under side of the broad leaves of the tucuma and other palms. Others, again, form them in hollow trees, or among their roots in the earth. Many build in houses, or pierce their mud walls till they look as if riddled with shot. Others make holes in the ground, especially in sandy places. Others, again, construct their habitations of clay, and fasten them to the boughs of trees or to buildings. There are, indeed, mason bees, carpenter bees, and miner bees and wasps.

Watch the little, pale green bombex, or sand-wasp, at work, throwing out with its fore-feet jets of sand from the hole it is forming in the sloping bank. In a wonderfully short time the female miner has formed a gallery two or three inches in length. Out she backs, making a few turns round the entrance to admire her work—or, probably, to take note of the locality—and then away she flies. She may be absent for a few minutes, or perhaps for an hour, according to her success in hunting. At length back she comes with a big fly in her grasp, benumbed by her sting. She carries it in, lays an egg in the body, which will serve as food for the soft footless grub soon to be hatched, and then closing the entrance, sets to work to form a new nursery like the first, which she will furnish in the same careful manner. It is curious how she can find her way back, for often she has to go half a mile before she can find a fly to suit her purpose.

Another species,—the Monedula signata,—as large as a hornet, is particularly useful in carrying off the teasing flies, the bloodthirsty motucas, which buzz round the voyager on the Amazon when at anchor near a sand-bank. Bates was rather startled by seeing one fly directly at his face, on which it had espied a motuca, and which it carried off, holding it tightly to its breast.

The pelopaeus wasp builds a nest of clay, shaped like a pouch, two inches in length, and attaches it to a branch. It forms the clay in little round pellets, kneading it with its mandibles into a convenient shape, and humming cheerfully while engaged in its work. On arriving with the ball of moist clay it lays it on the edge of the cell, and then spreads it out round the circular rim by means of the lower lip, guided by the mandibles—sitting astride while at work. On finishing each addition it takes a turn round, patting the sides with its feet inside and out, before flying off for a fresh pellet. It feeds on small spiders, which it reduces to a half dead state by its sting, thus to serve as food for its progeny.

One bee,—the Trypoxylon aurifrons,—builds a nest of clay like a squat round bottle or carafe; generally in rows, one beside the other, on a branch, or in the corners of a building.

The melipona bees are the most numerous of the honey-producing insects, their colonies being composed of vast numbers of individuals. They are smaller than the English hive-bee, and have no sting. The workers collect pollen as do other bees, but a great number are employed in gathering clay for forming walls as an outer protection to their nests. They first scrape the clay with their fore-mandibles, passing it on to the second pair of feet, and then to the large foliated expansions of the hind-shanks, patting it in the process, till the little hodsmen have as much as they can carry, when they fly off with their loads to their nests. One species builds a tubular gallery of clay of a trumpet shape at the mouth. Here a number of the pigmy bees are stationed to act the part of sentinels.

Thus the melipona bees are masons as well as workers in wax and pollen gatherers. Although they have no sting, they defend their habitations, and bite furiously when disturbed. Bates found forty-five species of these bees in different parts of the country, and one hundred and forty of other species. Several of them were attended by drones, which deposit their ova in the cells of the working bees, some of them having the dress and general appearance of their victims.

BUTTERFLIES.

This is a region of magnificent butterflies. In the neighbourhood of Para alone seven hundred species have been found. Many seldom leave the shady paths which pierce the forests; others, however, occasionally come forth into the broad sunlight and more open glades. See the slender Morpho menelaus, with splendid metallic blue wings seven inches in expanse, flapping them as does a bird as it flies along.

Far surpassing it, however, is the Morpho rhetenor; which, conscious of its beauty, revels in the sunlight, but seldom ventures nearer than twenty feet from the ground. So dazzling a lustre have the upper wings of this butterfly, that when it flaps them occasionally, and the blue surface flashes in the sunlight, it may be seen a quarter of a mile off.

Another species of the same genus has a satiny white hue; but, infinite as they are in number, so most diversified are they in their habits, mode of flight, colours, and markings. Some are yellow, others bright red, green, purple, and blue. Many are bordered or spangled with metallic lines and spots of a silvery or golden lustre. Some have wings transparent as glass.

One of these (the Hetaira esmeralda) is especially beautiful, having an opaque spot on its wings, of a violet and rose hue; and as this is the only part visible when the insect is flying low over the dead leaves of the darker recesses of the forest—where it is alone found—it looks like the wandering petal of a flower.

Of moths, too, there are great numbers,—among them, the Erebus strix, the largest of its family, sometimes measuring nearly a foot in expanse of wing. In the open sunny spots the bright air is often alive with superb dragonflies. Upwards of one hundred species are found near Para. Some live only in the gloom of the forest. Often, however, they are the most beautiful, being more brightly coloured and delicate in construction than the others. Many delight to flit over the igarapes and calm pools.

Among these, the Chalcopteryx rutilans has four wings, each transparent,—while the hind-wings, of a dark colour, glitter with a violet and golden effulgence. They all wage unceasing war against the day-flying insects. When one is captured, the dragon-fly retires to a tree, and there, seated on a branch, devours the body at its leisure. It is wonderful the number of flies which these beautiful insects destroy. When evening comes on they eagerly fly off to the chase, amid the swamps and around the tree-tops, or wherever their victims congregate.



PART THREE, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

WONDERS OF THE FOREST.

Of the palms alone, upwards of a hundred species are found in these forests. These supply the Indian with nearly all he wants to support existence. Their fruit, or pith, or crowns, furnish him with an abundance of food. He builds his hut and floors it with their wood, and thatches it with their leaves. From the trunks of some species he forms his canoes, of different sizes. He obtains from them oil, cord, thread, wine—or a beverage which answers the purpose—wax, mats, baskets, arrows for his sumpitan or bow, and numberless other articles. Pure, clear oils are made from some of the nuts and palm fruits; while many palms yield a fibrous material admirably suited for cordage, being singularly elastic and resistant.

From the curious candella-tree,—called by the Spaniards arbol de la manteca, by the Indians cuajo,—he obtains tallow for candles and excellent oil for lamps, and a beverage which is made from its fruit.

The cow-tree supplies a milk in appearance like that of the animal from which it takes its name, but thicker. On analysing this product, it is found to consist of water, animal milk, and wax as pure as that obtained from bees. By dipping cotton in the liquid, too, candles can be made.

In the hotter regions grows the bajuco d'agua, which supplies the place of wells and fountains,—each yard of it affording a pint of water. High up on the mountainside, in the regions of icy wastes, called the paramos, grows the frailejou, which yields a pure turpentine, and assists to warm the human body. Of the palms, a few only can be described. There is the cocoa-nut palm, with its swollen bulb-like stem when young, its tall straight trunk when full-grown, its cluster of heavy fruit, its long plume-like drooping flower; the coccoeiro, with its slighter trunk and pendent branches of small berry-like fruit; the palmetto, with its tender succulent bud on the summit of the stem, used as a vegetable, and proving an excellent substitute for cabbage; the thorny icari, or cari—a variety of fan-palm. Its spiny stems and leaves, which cut like razors, make it difficult to approach. Its bunches of bright chestnut-brown fruit hang from between the leaves which form its crown, each bunch about a foot in length, massive and compact, like a large cluster of black Hamburg grapes.

The syagrus palm has a greenish fruit, not unlike the olive in appearance, which hangs in large pendent bunches just below the leaves. The fruit resembles somewhat that of the bread-tree, but is more slender and cylindrical in form.

The leaves of different kinds of palms are used for thatching the Indian huts, the curua palm among others. When young, they grow closely round the mid-rib attached to the axis by a few fibres only, so that when the mid-rib is held up they hang from it like so many straw-coloured ribbons. With these leaves both the walls and roofs are covered. The mid-rib, which is strong, and sometimes four or five yards long, is set across to serve as a support, and bind down the pendent leaves. Such a thatch will last for years, and is an excellent protection from rain as well as sun.

The Indian furnishes himself with cups and vessels of all sorts from the cuieira-tree (Crescentia cajeput). It is of immense size, the fruit being like a gourd. It is spherical, of a light green shining surface, and grows from the size of an apple to that of the largest melon. It is filled with a soft white pulp, easily removed when the fruit is cut in halves. The rind is then allowed to dry. Cups and basins of various sizes are made from it, which the Indians adorn with a variety of brilliant colours.

One of the staple productions of the Upper Amazon is the guarana. It is a trailing plant, a sort of vine; when full-grown, about eight feet high, and bearing a bean the size of a coffee-bean, two being enclosed in each envelope. This bean, after being roasted, is pounded in a small quantity of water till it becomes compact, and, when dry, is about the colour of chocolate. It is then grated with the rough tongue of the piraracu, and when mixed with sugar and water makes a refreshing beverage. It is said to have an excellent effect when administered in cases of diarrhoea.

ASPECTS OF THE FOREST.

Although at some times of the year the forests present only varied tints of green and brown, unrelieved by brighter colours; at others, when, after the rains, nature has revived, the banks of the streams are gay and beautiful in the extreme. Thousands of brilliant blossoms of varied colours rise amid the trunks of the trees, or hang in rich festoons from the branches, while the air is laden with the almost overpowering perfume of numberless flowers.

"Wild flowers," says Mrs Agassiz, "are abundant; not delicate small plants growing low among the moss and grass, but large blossoms covering tall trees, and resembling exotics at home by their rich colour and powerful odour—indeed, the flowers of the Amazonian forests reminded me of hot-house plants—and there often comes a warm breath from the depth of the woods laden with perfume, like the air from the open door of a conservatory."

"Beautiful as are the endless forests, however," she remarks in another place, "we could not but long, when skirting them day after day, without seeing a house or meeting a canoe, for the sight of tilled soil, for pasture lands, for open ground, for wheat-fields and hay-stacks; for any sign, in short, of the presence of man. As we sat at night in the stern of the vessel, looking up the vast river stretching many hundred leagues, with its shores of impenetrable forests, it was difficult to resist an oppressive sense of loneliness. Though here and there an Indian settlement or a Brazilian village appears, yet the population is a mere handful in such a territory."

Wonderful is the change in the appearance of the tropical representatives of well-known families in the Old World.

The india-rubber tree belongs to the milk-weed family. The euphorbiaceae assume the form of colossal trees, constituting a considerable part of its strange and luxuriant forest growth. The giant of the Amazonian woods, whose majestic flat crown towers over all other trees, while its white trunk stands out in striking relief through the surrounding mass of green—the sumaumera—is allied to the mallows of the North. Some of the most characteristic trees of the river-shore belong to these two families.

BUTTRESS TREES.

One of the most striking characteristics of the forest vegetation is the way in which many of the trunks of the trees are supported by buttresses. The huge sumaumera is especially remarkable; but this disposition to throw out supports is not confined to one tree. It occurs in many families. These buttresses start at a distance of about ten feet from the ground, separating greatly towards the base, where they are often ten to twelve feet in depth. The lower part of the trunk is thus divided into several open compartments, so large that, if roofed over, they would form a hut with sufficient space for two people to stand up or lie down in. Others, however, rise to the height of twenty or thirty feet, and run up in the form of ribs to forty or fifty feet. Other trees appear as if they were composed of a number of slender stalks bound together, and are ribbed to their entire height. In some places the furrows reach completely through them, and appear like the narrow windows of a tower. The stems of others again rise on the summit of numerous roots, like the bulging-stemmed palm, apparently standing on a number of legs at the height of a dozen feet or more from the ground. Often the roots thus form archways sufficiently large for a person to walk beneath.

SIPOS OR WILD VINES.

Circling round the stems of trees in innumerable coils, and grasping them with a deadly embrace, grow in rich luxuriance countless wild vines, well meriting the name of murdering sipos. They hang in festoons from their boughs, and form an intricate tracery of network from tree to tree,—often of sufficient strength to support the falling monarchs of the forest when time has wrought decay among their roots.

Here are seen tillandsias and bromeliaceae, like the crowns of huge pineapples; large climbing arums, with their dark green and arrow-head shaped leaves, forming fantastic and graceful ornaments swinging in mid-air; while huge-leaved ferns and other parasites cling to the stems up to the very highest branches. These are again covered by other creeping plants; and thus we see parasites on parasites, and on these parasites again. As we gaze upwards, we see against the clear blue sky the finely divided foliage, many of the largest of the forest-trees having leaves as delicate as those of the trembling mimosa: among them appear the huge palmate leaves of the cecropias, and the oval glossy ones of the clusias, countless others of intermediate forms adding to the variety of its scenery,—the bright sunshine playing on the upper portion of the foliage, while a solemn gloom reigns among the dark columns which support this wondrous roof of verdure.