While he was revolving these questions in his mind, he again turned and looked toward the foot of the hammock. The sight caused him a thrill of horror. There was the hideous creature, which, he had just seen, right over the bleeding foot. It was not perched, but suspended in the air on its moving wings, with its long snout protruded forward and pressed against the toe of the sleeper! Its sharp white teeth were visible in both jaws, and its small vicious eyes glistened under the light of the fires. The red hair covering its body and large membranous wings added to the hideousness of its aspect, and a more hideous creature could not have been conceived. _It was the vampire_,--the blood-sucking _phyllostoma_!
A short cry escaped from the lips of Leon. It was not a cry of pain, but the contrary. The sight of the great bat, hideous as the creature was, relieved him. He had all along been under the painful impression that some venomous serpent had caused the blood to flow, and now he had no further fear on that score. He knew that there was no poison in the wound inflicted by the phyllostoma--only the loss of a little blood; and this quieted his anxieties at once. He resolved, however, to punish the intruder; and not caring to rouse the camp by firing, he stole a little closer, and aimed a blow with the b.u.t.t of his pistol.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE VAMPIRE BAT.]
The blow was well aimed, and brought the bat to the ground, but its shrill screeching awoke everybody, and in a few moments the camp was in complete confusion. The sight of the blood on the foot of the little Leona quite terrified Dona Isidora and the rest; but when the cause was explained, all felt rea.s.sured and thankful that the thing was no worse.
The little foot was bound up in a rag; and although, for two or three days after, it was not without pain, yet no bad effects came of it.
The "blood-sucking" bats do not cause death either to man, or any other animal, by a single attack. All the blood they can draw out amounts to only a few ounces, although after their departure, the blood continues to run from the open wound. It is by repeating their attacks night after night that the strength of an animal becomes exhausted, and it dies from sheer loss of blood and consequent faintness. With animals this is far from being a rare occurrence. Hundreds of horses and cattle are killed every year in the South American pastures. These creatures suffer, perhaps, without knowing from what cause, for the phyllostoma performs its cupping operation without causing the least pain--at all events the sleeper is very rarely awakened by it.
It is easy to understand how it sucks the blood of its victim, for its snout and the leafy appendage around its mouth--from whence it derives the name "phyllostoma"--are admirably adapted to that end. But how does it make the puncture to "let" the blood? That is as yet a mystery among naturalists, as it also is among the people who are habitually its victims. Even Guapo could not explain the process. The large teeth--of which it has got quite a mouthful--seem altogether unfitted to make a hole such as is found where the "phyllostoma" has been at work. Their bite, moreover, would awake the soundest sleeper.
Besides these, it has neither fangs, nor stings, nor proboscis, that would serve the purpose. How then does its reach the blood? Many theories have been offered; some a.s.sert that it rubs the skin with its snout until its brings it to bleeding: others say that it sets the sharp point of one of its large tusks against the part, and then by plying its wings wheels round and round, as upon a pivot, until the point has penetrated--that during this operation the motion of the wings fans and cools the sleeping victim, so that no pain is felt. It may be a long while before this curious question is solved, on account of the difficulty of observing a creature whose habits are nocturnal, and most of whose deeds are "done in the dark."
People have denied the existence of such a creature as the blood-sucking bat--even naturalists have gone so far. They can allege no better grounds for their incredulity than that the thing has an air of the fabulous and horrible about it. But this is not philosophy. Incredulity is the characteristic of the half-educated. It may be carried too far, and the fables of the vulgar have often a stratum of truth at the bottom. There is one thing that is almost intolerable, and that is the conceit of the "closet-naturalist," who sneers at everything as untrue that seems to show the least _design_ on the part of the brute creation--who denies everything that appears at all singular or fanciful, and simply because it appears so. With the truthful observations that have been made upon the curious domestic economy of such little creatures as bees, and wasps, and ants, we ought to be cautious how we reject statements about the habits of other animals, however strange they may appear.
Who doubts that a mosquito will perch itself upon the skin of a human being, pierce it with its proboscis, and suck away until it is gorged with blood! Why does it appear strange that a bat should do the same?
Now your closet-naturalist will believe that the bat _does_ suck the blood of cattle and horses, but denies that it will attack man! This is sheer nonsense. What difference to the vampire, whether its victim be a biped or quadruped? Is it fear of the former that would prevent it from attacking him? Perhaps it may never have seen a human being before: besides, it attacks its victim while asleep, and is rarely ever caught or punished in the act. Where these creatures are much hunted or persecuted by man, they may learn to fear him, and their original habits may become changed, but that is quite another thing.
As nature has formed them, the blood-sucking bats will make their attack indifferently, either upon man or large quadrupeds. There are a thousand proofs to be had in all the tropical regions of America. Every year animals are killed by the _phyllostoma hastatum_, not in hundreds, but in thousands. It is recorded that on one extensive cattle-farm several hundred head were killed in the short period of six months by the bats; and the vaqueros, who received a bounty upon every bat they should capture, in one year succeeded in destroying the enormous number of _seven thousand_! Indeed, "bat-hunting" is followed by some as a profession, so eager are the owners of the cattle-farms to get rid of these pests.
Many tribes of Indians and travellers suffer great annoyance from the vampire-bats. Some persons never go to sleep without covering themselves with blankets, although the heat be ever so oppressive. Any part left naked will be attacked by the "phyllostoma", but they seem to have a preference for the tip of the great toe--perhaps because they have found that part more habitually exposed. Sometimes one sleeper is "cupped" by them, while another will not be molested; and this, I may observe, is true also of the mosquitoes. There may be some difference as to the state of the blood of two individuals, that leads to this fastidious preference. Some are far more subject to their attack than others--so much so that they require to adopt every precaution to save themselves from being bled to death. Cayenne pepper rubbed over the skin is used to keep them off, and also to cure the wound they have made; but even this sometimes proves ineffective.
Of course there are many species of bats in South America besides the vampire; in fact, there is no cla.s.s of mammalia more numerous in genera and species, and no part of the world where greater numbers are found than in the tropical regions of America. Some are insect-eaters, while others live entirely on vegetable substances; but all have the same unsightly and repulsive appearance. The odour of some kinds is extremely fetid and disagreeable.
Notwithstanding this, they are eaten by many tribes of Indians, and even the French Creoles of Guiana have their "bat-soup," which they relish highly. The proverb "_De gustibus non disputandum est_," seems to be true for all time. The Spanish Americans have it in the phrase "_Cada uno a su gusto_;" "_Chacun a son gout_," say the French; and on hearing these tales about "ant-paste," and "roast monkey," and "armidillo done in the sh.e.l.l," and "bat-soup," you, boy reader, will not fail to exclaim "Every one to his liking."
The vampire appeared to be to Guapo"s liking. It was now his turn to keep watch, and as the rest of them got into their hammocks, and lay awake for a while, they saw him take up the bat, spit it upon a forked stick, and commence broiling it over the fire. Of course _he ate it_!
When morning came, and they had got up, what was their astonishment to see no less than fourteen bats lying side by side! They were dead, of course: Guapo had killed them all during his watch. They had appeared at one period of the night in alarming numbers, and Guapo had done battle manfully without awaking anybody.
Another curious tableau came under their notice shortly after. Just as they were about to embark, a singular looking tree was observed growing near the bank of the river. At first they thought the tree was covered with birds"-nests, or pieces of some kind of moss. Indeed, it looked more like a tree hung over with rags than anything else. Curiosity led them to approach it. What was their astonishment to find that the nests, moss, or rags, were neither more or less than a vast a.s.semblage of bats suspended, and asleep! They were hanging in all possible positions; some with their heads down, some by the claws upon either wing, and some by both, while a great many had merely hooked over the branch the little h.o.r.n.y curvature of their tails. Some hung down along the trunk, suspended by a crack in the bark, while others were far out upon the branches.
It was certainly the oddest "roost" that any of the party (Guapo, perhaps, excepted) had ever witnessed; and, after gazing at it for some time, they turned away without disturbing the sleepers, and getting on board once more, floated adown the stream swiftly and silently.
CHAPTER x.x.xV.
THE MARIMONDAS.
That day they made good progress, having dropped down the river a distance of fifty miles at least. They might even have gone farther, but a good camping-place offered, and they did not like to pa.s.s it, as they might not find another so convenient. It was a muddy bank, or rather a promontory that ran out into the river, and was entirely without trees, or any other vegetation, as it was annually overflowed, and formed, in fact, part of the bed of the river. At this time the mud was quite dry and smooth, and appeared as if it had been paddled and beaten down by the feet of animals and birds. This was, in fact, the case, for the point was a favourite resting-place for the "chiguires," or "capivaras,"
on their pa.s.sage to and from the water. There were tracks of tapirs, too, and peccaries, and many sorts of wading birds, that had been there while the mud was still soft.
There were no trees to which to hang their hammocks, but the ground was smooth and dry, and they could sleep well enough upon it. They would not be troubled with the bats, as these creatures keep mostly in the dark shadowy places of the forest; and snakes would not likely be found out on the bare ground. They thought they would there be safer from jaguars, too. In fact, it was from these considerations that they had chosen the place for their camp. They could go to the woods for an armful or two of sticks to cook supper with, and that would suffice.
The balza was brought close in on the upper side of the promontory, so as to be out of the current; and then all landed and made their preparations for pa.s.sing the night. Guapo marched off with his axe to get some firewood, and Leon accompanied him to a.s.sist in carrying it.
They had not far to go--only a hundred yards or so, for up at the end of the promontory the forest began, and there were both large trees and underwood.
As they walked forward one species of trees caught their attention. They were palm-trees, but of a sort they had not yet met with. They were very tall, with a thick, globe-shaped head of pinnate, plume-like leaves. But what rendered these trees peculiar was the stem. It was slender in proportion to the height of the tree, and was thickly covered with long needle-shaped spines, not growing irregularly, but set in bands, or rings, around the tree. This new palm was the "pupunha," or "peach-palm," as it is called, from the resemblance which its fruits bear to peaches. It is also named "pirijao" in other parts of South America, and it belongs to the genus "_Gullielma_."
At the tops of these trees, under the great globe of leaves, Guapo and Leon perceived the nuts. They were hanging in cl.u.s.ters, as grapes grow; but the fruits were as large as apricots, of an oval, triangular shape, and of a beautiful reddish yellow colour. That they were delicious eating, either roasted or boiled, Guapo well knew; and he was determined that some of them should be served at supper. But how were they to be reached? No man could climb such a tree as they grew upon! The needles would have torn the flesh from any one who should have attempted it.
Guapo knew this. He knew, moreover, that the Indians, who are very fond of the fruit of this tree,--so much so that they plant large _palmares_ of it around their villages--have a way of climbing it to get at the ripe cl.u.s.ters. They tie cross pieces of wood from one tree to the other, and thus make a sort of step-ladder, by which they ascend to the fruit.
It is true, they might easily cut down the trees, as the trunks are not very thick; but that would be killing the goose that gave the golden eggs.
Guapo, however, had no farther interest in this wild orchard than to make it serve his turn for that one night; so, laying his axe to one of the "pupunhas," he soon levelled its majestic stem to the ground.
Nothing more remained than to lop off the cl.u.s.ters, any one of which was as much as Leon could lift from the ground. Guapo found the wood hard enough even in its green state, but when old it becomes black, and is then so hard that it will turn the edge of an axe. There is, perhaps, no wood in all South America harder than that of the pirijao palm.
It is with the needle-like spines of this species that many tribes of Indians puncture their skins in tattooing themselves, and other uses are made by them of different parts of this n.o.ble tree. The macaws, parrots, and other fruit-eating birds, are fonder of the nuts of the pupunha than perhaps any other species; and so, too, would be the fruit-eating quadrupeds if they could get at them. But the th.o.r.n.y trunk renders them quite inaccessible to all creatures without wings, excepting man himself. No; there is one other exception, and that is a creature closely allied to man, I mean the _monkey_.
Notwithstanding the th.o.r.n.y stem, which even man cannot scale without a contrivance; notwithstanding the apparently inaccessible cl.u.s.ters--inaccessible from their great height--there is a species of monkey that manages now and then to get a meal of them. How do these monkeys manage it? Not by climbing the stem, for the thorns are too sharp even for them. How then? Do the nuts fall to the ground and allow the monkeys to gather them? No. This is not the case. How then? We shall see!
Guapo and Leon had returned to the camp, taking with them the pupunha fruit and the firewood. A fire was kindled, the cooking-pot hung over it on a tripod, and they all sat around to wait for its boiling.
While thus seated, an unusual noise reached their ears coming from the woods. There were parrots and macaws among the palms making noise enough, and fluttering about, but it was not these. The noise that had arrested the attention of our travellers was a mixture of screaming, and chattering, and howling, and barking, as if there were fifty sorts of creatures at the making of it. The bushes, too, were heard "switching about," and now and then a dead branch would crack, as if snapped suddenly. To a stranger in these woods such a blending of sounds would have appeared very mysterious and inexplicable. Not so to our party.
They knew it was only a troop of monkeys pa.s.sing along upon one of their journeys. From their peculiar cries, Guapo knew what kind of monkeys they were.
"_Marimondas_," he said.
The marimondas are not true "howlers," although they are of the same tribe as the "howling monkeys." They belong to the genus _Ateles_, so called because they want the thumb, and are therefore _imperfect_ or _unfinished_ as regards the hands. But what the ateles want in hands is supplied by another member--the tail, and this they have to all perfection. It is to them a fifth hand, and apparently more useful than the other four. It a.s.sists them very materially in travelling through the tree-tops. They use it to bring objects nearer them. They use it to suspend themselves in a state of repose, and thus suspended, they sleep--nay more, thus suspended they often die! Of all the monkey tribe the ateles are those that have most prehensile power in their tails.
There are several species of them known--the coaita, the white-faced, the black cayou, the beelzebub, the chamek, the black-handed, and the marimonda. The habits of all are very similar, though the species differ in size and colour.
The marimonda is one of the largest of South American monkeys, being about three feet standing upon its hind-legs, with a tail of immense length, thick and strong near the root, and tapering to a point. On its under side, for the last foot or so from the end, there is no hair, but a callous skin, and this is the part used for holding on to the branches. The marimonda is far from being a handsome monkey. Its long, thin arms and thumbless hands give it an attenuated appearance, which is not relieved by the immense disproportioned tail. It is reddish, or of a parched coffee colour, on the upper part of the body, which becomes blanched on the throat, belly, and insides of the thighs. Its colour, in fact, is somewhat of the hue of the half-blood Indian and Negro,--hence the marimonda is known in some parts of Spanish America by the name of "mono zambo," or "zambo" monkey--a "zambo" being the descendant of Indian and Negro parents.
The noise made by the marimondas which had been heard by our party seemed to proceed from the bank of the river, some distance above the promontory; but it was evidently growing louder every minute, and they judged that the monkeys were approaching.
In a few minutes they appeared in sight, pa.s.sing along the upper part of a grove of trees that stood close to the water. Our travellers had now an excellent view of them, and they sat watching them with interest.
Their mode of progression was extremely curious. They never came to the ground, but where the branches interlocked they ran from one to the other with the lightning speed of squirrels, or, indeed, like birds upon the wing.
Sometimes, however, the boughs stood far apart. Then the marimonda, running out as far as the branch would bear him, would wrap a few inches of his tail around it and spring off into the air. In the spring he would give himself such an impetus as would cause the branch to revolve, and his body following this circular motion, with the long thin arms thrown out in front, he would grasp the first branch that he could reach. This, of course, would land him on a new tree, and over that he would soon spring to the next.
Among the troop several females were perceived with their young. The latter were carried on the backs of the mothers, where they held on by means of their own little tails, feeling perfectly secure. Sometimes the mothers would dismount them, and cause them to swing themselves from branch to branch, going before to show them the way. This was witnessed repeatedly. In other places, where the intervening s.p.a.ce was too wide for the females with their young to pa.s.s over, the males could be seen bending down a branch of the opposite tree, so as to bring it nearer, and a.s.sist them in crossing. All these movements were performed amidst a constant gabble of conversation, and shouting, and chattering, and the noise of branches springing back to their places.
The grove through which the troop was pa.s.sing ended just by the edge of the promontory. The palm-trees succeeded, with some trees of large size that grew over them.
The marimondas at length reached the margin of the grove, and then they were all seen to stop, most of them throwing themselves, heads down, and hanging only by their tails. This is the position in which they find themselves best prepared for any immediate action; and it is into this att.i.tude they throw themselves when suddenly alarmed. They remained so for some minutes; and from the chattering carried on among them, it was evident that they were engaged in deliberation. A loud and general scream proclaimed the result; and all of them, at one and the same instant, dropped down to the ground, and were seen crossing over among the palm-trees.
They had to pa.s.s over a piece of open ground with only some weeds upon it; but their helplessness on the ground was at once apparent. They could not place their palms on the surface, but doubled them up and walked, as it were, on the backs of their hands in the most awkward manner. Every now and again, they flung out their great tails, in hopes of grasping something that would help them along; and even a large weed was a welcome support to them. On the ground they were evidently "out of their element." In fact, the _ateles_ rarely descend from the trees, which are their natural _habitat_.
At length they reached the palms; and, seated in various att.i.tudes, looked up at the tempting fruit, all the while chattering away. How were they to reach it? Not a tree that was not covered with long needles--not a bunch of the luscious fruit that was not far above the height of the tallest marimonda! How were they to get at it?--that was the question.
It might have been a puzzling question to so many boys--to the monkeys it was not; for in less than a score of seconds they had settled it in their minds how the pupunhas were to be plucked.
Rising high over the palms grew a large tree, with long out-reaching branches. It was the "zamang" tree--a species of _mimosa_, and one of the most beautiful trees of South America. Its trunk rose full seventy feet without a branch; and then it spread out in every direction in numerous horizontal limbs, that forked and forked again until they became slender boughs. These branches were clad with the delicate pinnate leaves that characterise the family of the mimosas.