“I wish that we could get one of them to tame,” exclaimed Arthur. “It would make a delightful pet for your sister, and a capital playmate for True. They would become great friends, depend on it. He sadly wants a companion of his own amount of intellect, poor fellow.”
“I doubt as to their having any intellect, and I don’t think True would consider himself complimented by having them compared to him,” I answered, laughing, though a little piqued that the sense of my favourite should be rated on an equality with that of a monkey. We discussed the matter as we went along. I was compelled to acknowledge at last that though True had sense, he might not even have reason, only instinct verging on it strongly developed.
“And what are those monkeys?” asked Arthur, who had not quite agreed with me, and wished to change the subject.
“I have no doubt that they are what the French call ‘spider monkeys,’” I answered. “I found a description of them in my book, under the title of Ateles, or Coaita. The white-faced species is the Ateles marginatus. There are several species very similar in their appearance and habits.”
I have more to say by-and-by about these spider monkeys.
We now found that it was time to begin our return to the river. As we were walking on we caught sight of some object moving among the tall grass. Arthur, True, and I followed at full speed. I had my gun ready to fire. It was a huge serpent. It seemed, however, more afraid of us than we were of it. On it went like a dark stream running amidst the verdure, moving almost in a straight line, with only the slightest perceptible bends, and it soon disappeared among the thick underwood. From its size it would have been an awkward creature to be surprised by unarmed; and True, I suspect, would have had little chance of escaping.
Shortly afterwards, looking up among the branches, we saw overhead a large flight of parrots. From their curious way of moving they seemed to be fighting in the air. Presently down one fell from among them, pitching into a soft clump of grass. I ran forward, expecting to find it dead; but scarcely had I taken it in my hand, than it revived, and I had no doubt it had been stunned by a blow on the head from one of its companions. It was of a bright green plumage, with a patch of scarlet beneath the wings. “I am sure your sister would like it for a pet,” exclaimed Arthur; “do let us take it to her!” The parrot, however, seemed in no way disposed to submit to captivity, but struggled violently and bit at our fingers. I managed, however, to secure its beak, and we carried it in safety to the hut.
“Oh, what a beautiful little creature!” exclaimed Ellen as she saw it. “I have been so longing to have some pets, and I am much obliged to you for bringing it to me.”
“I have tamed many birds,” said Maria, “and I hope soon to make this one very amiable and happy.”
Domingos, however, declared that the bird could not be kept without a cage. Some bamboos were growing at a short distance. He cut several small ones, and in a short time had constructed a good-sized cage, with the bars sufficiently close prevent the little stranger escaping. He then set to work to pluck the birds we had killed, and they were quickly roasting, spitted between forked sticks, before the fire. While we were engaged in preparing dinner we caught sight of several persons coming along the banks of the river. Isoro led the way; six natives followed. They were clad in somewhat scanty garments—a sort of kilt of matting, ornamented with feathers, round their waists, their cheeks and body painted with red and yellow. They were, however, pleasant-looking men. They had quivers at their backs, and long tubes, which I soon found to be blow-pipes, in their hands. True at first evidently did not approve of their presence, and went growling about, showing his teeth; but when he saw us treat them as friends, he became quiet, and went and lay down at the entrance to Ellen’s room, eyeing them, however, as if not quite satisfied about the matter.