THE NOCTURNAL LIFE OF ANIMALS IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST.

Below the mission of Sta.

Barbara de Arichuna we passed the night as usual, under the open sky, on a sandy flat on the bank of the Rio Abure, closely bordered by the impenetrable forest.

It was not without difficulty that we succeeded in finding dry wood to kindle the fire with which it is always customary in that country to surround a bivouac, in order to guard against the attacks of the jaguar.

The night was humid, mild, and moonlight.

Several crocodiles (alligators) approached the shore.

I think I have observed these animals to be attracted by fire, like our crayfish, and many other inhabitants of the water.

The oars of our boat were placed upright, and carefully driven into the ground, to form poles, from which our hammocks could be suspended.

Deep stillness prevailed; only from time to time we heard the blowing of the fresh-water dolphins, which are peculiar to the Orinoco network of rivers (and, according to Colebrooke, to the Ganges as far as Benares), which followed each other in long lines.

Soon after eleven o’clock, such a disturbance began to be heard in the adjoining forest that for the remainder of the night all sleep was impossible.

The wild cries of the animals appeared to rage throughout the forest.

Among the many voices that resounded together, the Indians could only recognise those which, after short pauses in the general uproar, were first heard singly.

There was the monotonous howling of the aluates (the howling monkeys); the plaintive, soft, and almost flute-like tones of the small sapajous; the snorting grumblings of the striped nocturnal monkey; the interrupted cries of the great tiger, the cuguar or maneless American lion, the peccary, the sloth, and a host of parrots, of parraquas, and other pheasant-like birds.

When the tigers came near the edge of the forest, our dog, which had barked incessantly, came howling to seek refuge under our hammocks.

Sometimes the cry of the tiger was heard to proceed from amidst the high branches of a tree, and was in such cases always accompanied by the plaintive piping of the monkeys, who were seeking to escape from the unwonted pursuit.

If one asks the Indian why this incessant noise and disturbance arises on particular nights, they answer with a smile that the animals are rejoicing in the bright moonlight, and keeping the feast of the full moon.

To me it appeared that the scene had probably originated in some accidental combat, and that hence the disturbance had spread to other animals, and thus the noise had increased more and more.

The jaguar pursues the peccaries and tapirs, and these, pressing against each other in their flight, break through the interwoven tree-like shrubs which impede their escape; the apes on the tops of the trees, being frightened by the crash, join their cries to those of the larger animals; this arouses the tribes of birds who build their nests in communities, and thus the whole animal world becomes in a state of commotion.—(From Humboldt.)