hona-trees.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE BARK-HUNTERS.

In a few minutes the work began--that work which was to occupy them,
perhaps, for several years. The first blow of Guapo's axe was the
signal to begin the making of a fortune. It was followed by many
others, until one of the cinchonas lay along the sward. Then Guapo
attacked another, as near the root as was convenient for chopping.

Don Pablo's part of the work now began. Armed with a sharp knife, he
made circular incisions round the trunk, at the distance of several feet
from each other, and a single longitudinal one intersecting all the
others. The branches were also served in a similar way, and then the
tree was left as it lay. In three or four days they would return to
strip off the bark both from trunk and branches, and this would be
spread out under the sun to dry. When light and dry it would be carried
to the store-house. So the work went merrily on. The trees were taken
as they stood--the very young ones alone being left, as the bark of
these is useless for commerce.

The Dona Isidora sat upon a fallen trunk, and, conversing with her
husband, watched the proceedings with interest. A new and happy future
seemed at no great distance off. Little Leona stood beside Guapo,
watching the yellow chips as they flew, and listening to some very fine
stories with which Guapo was regaling her. Guapo loved little Leona.
He would have risked his life for her, would Guapo, and Leona knew it.

Leon was not particularly engaged on that day. When the bark was ready
for peeling he intended to take a hand with the rest. He could then
employ himself in spreading it, or could lead the mule in carrying it to
the storehouse. Leon did not intend to be idle, but there happened to
be no work for him just then; and after watching the bark-cutters for
awhile, he sauntered back along the path, in order to have a little fun
with the ais. Leon had no very great confidence that he would find them
in the place where they had been left, and yet he believed in Guapo.
But it was hard to understand that two animals, each endowed with a full
set of legs and feet, should not be able to make their way for a
distance of twenty paces, and escape! After the rough handling they had
had, too! He would have a peep at them, anyhow, to see how they were
coming on. So back he went.

On getting near the glade their voices reached him. They were there,
after all! He could hear t