It was covered with long hair, the prevailing colour being that of dark grey, with a broad band of black running from the neck downwards on each side of the body. It lives entirely on ants; and on opening its mouth we found that it could not provide itself with other food, as it was entirely destitute of teeth. Its claws, which were long, sharp, pointed, and trenchant, were its only implements of defence. Its hinder claws were short and weak; but the front ones were powerful, and so formed that anything at which it seizes can never hope to escape. The object of its powerful crooked claws is to enable it to open the ant-hills, on the inhabitants of which it feeds. It then draws its long, flexible tongue, covered with a glutinous saliva, over the swarms of insects who hurry forth to defend their dwelling.
The scientific name of this great ant-eater is Myrmecophaga jubata. There are, however, several smaller ant-eaters, which are arborial—that is, have their habitations in trees. Some are only ten inches long. One species is clothed with a greyish-yellow silky hair; another is of a dingy brown colour. They are somewhat similar in their habits to the sloth; and as they are seen clinging with their claws to the trees, or moving sluggishly along, they are easily mistaken for that animal, to which, indeed, they are allied. Some are nocturnal, others are seen moving about in the daytime.
True seemed to be aware of the narrow escape he had had from the formidable talons of the ant-eater, for after this encounter he kept close behind my heels. I hoped that he had received a useful lesson, and would attack no animal unless at my command, or he might do so some day when no friend was at hand to come to his rescue.
We had been walking on after this occurrence for some time in silence, when True pricked up his ears and began to steal forward. I could, however, see nothing. The undergrowth and masses of sipos were here of considerable denseness. Still, as he advanced, we followed him. Presently the forest became a little more open, when we caught sight of a creature with a long tail and a tawny hide with dark marks. “It is a jaguar,” I whispered to John. “It is watching some animal. In a moment we shall see it make its spring.” It was so intent on some object before it, that it did not discover our approach. On it went with the stealthy pace of a cat about to pounce on an unwary bird or mouse. It did not make the slightest noise, carefully avoiding every branch in its way. True, after his late adventure with the ant-eater, was less disposed than usual to seek an encounter, and I was therefore able to keep him from dashing forward as he otherwise would have done.
“The creature is about to pounce on some deer he sees feeding in the thicket,” whispered John; “or perhaps he espies a tapir, and hopes to bring it to the ground.”
Unconscious of our approach, the savage animal crept on and on, now putting one foot slowly forward, now the other. Now it stopped, then advanced more quickly. At length it stopped for a moment, and then made one rapid bound forward. A cry reached our ears. “That is a human voice!” exclaimed John; “some unfortunate native caught sleeping.” He fired as he spoke, for we could still see the back of the animal through the thick underwood. The jaguar bounded up as it received the wound, and the next moment the tall figure of the recluse appeared, bleeding at the shoulder, but otherwise apparently uninjured.
“What, my young friends,” he exclaimed, “brought you here? You have saved my life, at all events.”
“We chanced to lose our way, and are thankful we came up in time to save you from that savage brute.”
“Chance!” exclaimed the recluse. “It is the very point I was considering at the moment;” and he showed us a book in his hand. “Your arrival proves to me that there is no such thing as chance. I was reading at the moment, lost in thought, or I should not have been so easily surprised.”
John then told him how we had waited to see Ellen and our young friend off; and then, in attempting to follow our companions, had lost our way.