Nocturnal Life of Animals.--A night on the Apure.--Below the mission of Santa Barbara de Arichuna we passed the night as usual, in the open air, on a sandy flat, on the banks of the Apure, skirted by the impenetrable forest.

We had some difficulty in finding dry wood to kindle the fires with which it is here customary to surround the bivouac, as a safeguard against the attacks of the jaguar.

The air was bland and soft, and the moon shone brightly.

Several crocodiles approached the bank, and I have observed that fire attracts these creatures as it does our crabs and many other aquatic animals.-- The oars of our boats were fixed upright in the ground to support our hammocks.

Deep stillness prevailed, only broken at intervals by the blowing of the fresh-water dolphins.

After eleven o'clock, such a noise began in the contiguous forest, that for the remainder of the night all sleep was impossible.

The wild cries of animals rung through the woods.

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

There was the monotonous plaintive cry of the aluates (howling monkeys), the whining, flute-like notes of the small sapajous, the grunting murmur of the striped nocturnal ape (Nyctipithecus trivirgatus, which I was the first to describe), the fitful roar of the great tiger, the cuguar or maneless American lion, the peccary, the sloth, and a host of parrots, perraquas (Ortalides), and other pheasantlike birds.

Whenever the tigers approached the edge of the forest, our dog, who before had barked incessantly, came howling to seek protection under the hammocks.

Sometimes the cry of the tiger resounded from the branches of a tree, and was then always accompanied by the plaintive piping tones of the apes, who were endeavouring to escape from the unwonted pursuit.

If one asks the Indians why such a continuous noise is heard on certain nights, they answer, with a smile, that "the animals are rejoicing in the beautiful moonlight, and celebrating the return of the full moon."

To me, the scene appears rather to be owing to an accidental, long-continued, and gradually increasing conflict among the animals.

Thus, for instance, the jaguar will pursue the peccaries and the tapirs, which, densely crowded together, burst through the barrier of tree-like shrubs which opposes their flight.-- Terrified at the confusion, the monkeys on the tops of the trees join their cries with those of the larger animals.

This arouses the tribes of birds who build their nests in communities, and suddenly the whole animal world is in a state of commotion.

Further experience taught us that it was by no means always the festival of moonlight that disturbed the stillness of the forest, for we observed that the voices were loudest during violent storms of rain, or when the thunder echoed and the lightning flashed through the depths of the woods.

The good natured Franciscan monk, who (notwithstanding the fever from which he had been suffering for many months) accompanied us through the cataracts of Atures and Maypures to San Carlos, on the Rio Negro, and to the Brazilian coast, used to say, when apprehensive of a storm at night, "May Heaven grant a quiet night both to us and to the wild beasts of the forest!"--Humboldt's Views of Nature.