hem utter their pitiful "ay-ee--ay-ee!" and,
as he thought, in a louder and more distressing tone than ever. What
could be the matter? They had been silent for some time, he was sure,
for such cries as they now uttered could have been heard easily where
the rest were. What could be the meaning of this fresh outburst? Had
some new enemy attacked them? It seemed like enough.

Leon stole forward, and peeped into the glade. No--there was nothing
near them! But what was the matter with the creatures? Instead of
lying quietly, as they had done when left behind, they were now rolling
and tumbling backward and forward, and pitching about, and dancing first
on their feet and then on their heads, and cutting all sorts of strange
capers! Could it be for their own amusement? No; their lamentable
cries precluded that supposition; besides, their odd attitudes and
contortions bespoke terror and pain!

"Carrambo!" muttered Leon. "What's the matter with them?"

They seemed inclined to escape towards the trees; but, after making a
few lengths, they would fall to the ground, tumble about, and then,
getting up again, head in the opposite direction!

Leon was puzzled,--no wonder. He looked around for a solution of this
queer conduct on the part of the ais. No explanation appeared. At
length he bethought himself of going up to them. Perhaps, when nearer,
he might learn what set them a-dancing.

"Ha!" he ejaculated, struck with some sudden thought. "I know now;
there's a snake at them."

This conjecture--for it was only a conjecture--caused him to stop short.
It might be some venomous snake, thought he. The grass was not long,
and he could have seen a very large snake; but still a small coral
snake, or the little poisonous viper, might have been there. He fancied
he saw something moving; but to get a better view he passed slowly
around the edge of the glade, until he was nearly on the opposite side
to that where he had entered. He still kept at a good distance from the
ais, but as yet discovered no snake.

To his great surprise, the ais now lay stretched along the grass, their
struggles appeared each moment to grow less violent, and their
melancholy cries became weaker and weaker. Their contortions at length
came to an end. A feeble effort to raise themselves alone could be
perceived,--then a spasmodic motion of their long crooked limbs,--their
cries became indistinct; and, after a while, both lay motionless and
s