"Quite likely," answered Manuel. "But somebody had fished up the drowned beast, and stuffed the skin. When the traveller had settled with the authorities the skin was brought to him. He paid for the work of preservation, and then sent the specimen to a friend in England, in care of a taxidermist. It arrived in bad condition, at least the taxidermist said so, as he sent a bill for repairs, and explained that he supposed the gentleman wanted to have the skin in proper shape when presented to his friend.
"He paid this bill, and happily it was the last. I don't believe he will buy another jaguar in a hurry."
Manuel's story was voted a good one, and worthy of preservation—like the hide of the animal whose adventures it recorded. Frank agreed to be the taxidermist of the story, without charge; he rendered Manuel's fluent Spanish into the vernacular of the United States, wherein it is here presented.
HEAD OF NAVIGATION.