The fruits of this tree are small, oblong berries, of a purplish blue, about the size of an olive, inclosing a smooth, brittle nut, which, in turn, covers a cartilaginous kernel.
The pine ridges were not deficient in animal life. A few large cotton-trees grew on the edge of the mangrove-swamp, which were the nightly resort of parrots and paroquets, who came literally in clouds, and then the callings, scoldings, frettings, and screamings that took place would have drowned the confusion of the most vicious rookery extant. In the evening and morning it was really difficult for us to make each other hear, although our camp was distant more than two hundred yards from the roosts. The parrots are often eaten by the natives, in default of other food, but they are tough, hard, dry, and tasteless. Not so, however, with the quails, which were not only numerous, but so tame, or rather so unsuspecting, that we could catch as many as we wanted, in the simplest kind of traps. We adopted this method of procuring such game as the Poyer boy did not kill with his bow, instead of using my gun, the report of which might betray us.
Day by day we extended our excursions farther from the camp, every step revealing to me, at least, something novel and interesting. I think it was the third day after our arrival, when we came upon a patch of low ground, or jungle, densely wooded, and distant perhaps half a mile from our encampment. Attracted by some bright flowers, I penetrated a few yards into the bushes, where, to my surprise, I came upon what appeared to be a well-beaten path, which I followed for some distance, wondering over the various queer tracks which I observed printed, here and there, on the moist ground. While thus engaged, I was startled by the sound of some animal approaching, with a dull and heavy, but rapid tread. Looking up, I saw a lead-colored beast, about the size of a large donkey, its head drooping between its fore-legs, coming toward me at a swinging trot. Thinking he was charging upon me direct, I leaped into the bushes, with the intention of climbing up a tree. But before I could effect my object, the monster lumbered past, taking not the slightest notice of my presence. I breathed freer, when I saw his broad buttocks and little pig-like tail disappearing down the path, and I made my way out of the jungle, in a manner probably more expeditious than either graceful or valorous. Antonio, who was dodging after a fat curassow, had heard the noise, and was witness of my retreat. He seemed alarmed at first, but only smiled when I explained what I had seen. In fact, he appeared to think it rather a good joke, and hurried off to examine the tracks. He came back in a few minutes, and reported that my monster was only a dante, which I took to be some kind of Indian lingo for at least a hippopotamus, or rhinoceros.
“We shall have rare sport,” he continued, “in catching this dante. It will be equal to hunting the manitus.”
I found, upon inquiry, that the dante is called, in the Mosquito dialect, tilba or tapia, which names at once suggested tapir, an animal of which I had read, but of which I had very vague notions.
The Poyer boy seemed delighted with the news that there was a tapir about, and in less than five minutes after, both he and Antonio were sharpening their spears and lances, with palpable design on my monster’s life. They told me that the tapir generally keeps quiet during the day, wandering out at night, usually in fixed haunts and by the same paths, to take exercise and obtain his food. I was not a little relieved when they added that he never fights with man or beast, but owes his safety to his speed, thick hide, and ability to take to the water, where he is as much at home as on land, swimming or sinking to the bottom at his pleasure. He is, nevertheless, a headlong beast, and when alarmed or pursued, stops at nothing—vines, bushes, trees, rocks, are all the same to him! He would do well for a crest, with the motto, “Neck or Nothing!”
In shape, the dante or tapir (sometimes called mountain cow) is something like a hog, but much larger. He has a similar arched back; his head, however, is thicker, and comes to a sharp ridge at the top. The male has a snout or sort of proboscis hanging over the opening of the mouth, something like the trunk of an elephant, which he uses in like manner. This is wanting in the female. Its ears are rounded, bordered with white, and can be drawn forward at pleasure; its legs are thick and stumpy; its fore-feet or hoofs are divided into three parts or toes, with a sort of false hoof behind; but the hind feet have only three parts or divisions. Its tail is short, and marked by a few stiff hairs; the skin so hard and solid as generally to resist a musket-ball; the hair thin and short, of a dusky brown; and along the top of the neck runs a bristly mane, which extends over the head and down the snout. He has ten cutting-teeth, and an equal number of grinders in each jaw; features which separate him entirely from the ox-kind, and from all other ruminating animals. He lives upon plants and roots, and, as I have said, is perfectly harmless in disposition. The female produces but one young at a birth, of which she is very tender, leading it, at an early age, to the water, and instructing it to swim.
This description finished, the reader is ready to accompany us in our nocturnal expedition against the tapir. Before it became dark, Antonio, accompanied by the boy, went to the thicket which I have described, and felled several stout trees across the path, in such a manner as to form a kind of cul de sac. The design of this was to arrest the animal on his return, and enable us to spear him before he could break through or disengage himself. We went to the spot early in the evening, and, as the moon did not rise until late, Antonio caught his hat half-full of fire-flies, which served to guide us in the bush. He then pulled off their wings and scattered them among the fallen trees, where they gave light enough to enable us to distinguish objects with considerable clearness. Notwithstanding Antonio’s assurances that the tapir was a member of the Peace Society, I could not divest myself of the alarm which he had given me in the morning, and I was not at all sorry to find that my companions had selected a spot for their abattis, where an overhanging tree enabled me to keep out of harm’s way, yet near enough to take a sly drive with my lance at the tapir, if he should happen to come that way.
Antonio and the Poyer boy took their stations among the fallen trees; I took mine, and we awaited the dante’s pleasure. I strained my eyes in vain endeavors to penetrate the gloom, and held my breath full half the time to hear the expected tread. But we peered, and listened, and waited in vain; the fire-flies crawled away in every direction, and yet the tapir obstinately kept away. Finally, the moon came up; and by-and-by it rose above the trees—and still no tapir!
My seat on the tree became uncomfortable, and I instituted a comparison between tapir and manitus-hunting, largely to the advantage of the latter; and, finally, when Antonio whispered “He is coming!” I felt a willful disposition to contradict him. But my ear, meanwhile, caught the same dull sound which had arrested my attention in the morning; and, a few moments afterward, I could make out the beast, in the dim light, driving on at the same swinging trot. Right on he came, heedless and headlong. Crash! crash! There was a plunge and struggle, and a crushing and trampling of branches, then a dull sound of the heavy beast striking against the unyielding trunks of the fallen trees. He was now fairly stopped, and with a shout my companions drove down upon him with their lances, which rung out a sharp metallic sound when they struck his thick, hard hide. It was an exciting moment, and my eagerness overcoming my prudence, I slipped down the tree, and joined in the attack. Blow upon blow of the lances, and I could feel that mine struck deeply into the flesh, it seemed to me into the very vitals of the animal. But the strokes only appeared to give him new strength, and gathering back, he drove again full upon the opposing tree, bearing it down before him. I had just leaped upon the trunk, the better to aim my lance, and went down with it headlong, almost under the feet of the struggling animal, one tramp of whose feet would have crushed me like a worm. I could have touched him with my arm, he was so near! I heard the alarmed shriek of Antonio, when he saw me fall; but, in an instant, he leaped to my side, and, shortening his lance, drove it, with desperate force, clean through the animal, bringing him to his knees. This done, he grappled me as he might an infant, and before I was aware of it, had dragged me clear of the fallen timber. The blow of Antonio proved fatal; the tapir fell over on his side, and in a few moments was quite dead.