vampire, but
supports itself from the branch parallel to the earth. It first seizes
the branch with one arm, and then the other, and then brings up both its
legs--one after the other--to the same branch, so that all four are in a
line.

It is almost tailless. Had it a tail it would be at a loss to know what
to do with it in this position. Were it to draw it up between its legs,
it would interfere with them; and were it to let it hang down, it would
become the sport of the winds.

Waterton observes that he has never seen a tree entirely stripped of its
leaves; indeed, he believes that by the time the animal had finished the
last of the old leaves, there would be a new crop on the part of the
tree it had stripped first, ready for him to begin again, so rapid is
the process of vegetation in that region. In calm weather it remains
tranquil, probably not liking to cling to the brittle extremities of the
branches, lest they should break with it in passing from one tree to
another; but as soon as the wind rises, the branches of the neighbouring
trees become interlocked, and then the animal seizes hold of them, and
pursues his journey in safety, travelling at a good round pace--showing
that he does not deserve the name of sloth.

The head of the sloth is short, the face small and round, the hair
coarse and shaggy. There are several species, differing considerably in
colour, but resembling in general dry, withered grass, or moss. The
species vary in size from two feet to the size of a rabbit. Its face
resembles the human countenance as much as that of the monkey, but with
a very sad and melancholy expression. It brings forth its young and
suckles them like ordinary quadrupeds. The infant sloth, from the
moment of its birth, adheres to the body of its parent, until it
acquires sufficient size and strength to shift for itself. Its cry is
low and plaintive, resembling the sound of "ai." Hence the three-toed
sloth has obtained the name of the ai.

Mr Bates says that the natives consider the sloth the type of laziness,
and that it is very common for one native to call another--reproaching
him for idleness--"beast of the cecropia tree;" the leaves of the
cecropia being the food of the sloth. "It is a strange sight," he adds,
"watching the creature's movements from branch to branch. Every
movement betrays not indolence, but extreme caution. It never loses its
hold of one branch without catching the next; and when it d