of the one already shot, threw its arms around her neck and whined
piteously. It was the young one--Guapo had shot the mother!

The sight filled Leon with pity and grief; but Guapo knew nothing of
these sentiments. He had already inserted another arrow into his
gravatana, and was raising the tube to bend it, when, all at once, there
was a loud rustling among the leaves above--a large marimonda that had
returned from the band was seen springing out upon the branch--he was
the husband and father!

He did not pause a moment. Instinct or quick perception taught him that
the female was dead: his object was to save the young one.

He threw his long tail down, and grasping the little creature in its
firm hold, jerked it upward; and then, mounting it on his back, bore it
off among the branches!

All this passed so quickly, that Guapo had not time to deliver his
second arrow. Guapo saw them no more.

The Indian, however, was not to be cheated out of his supper of
roast-monkey. He walked quietly back for his axe; and bringing it up,
soon felled the tree, and took the marimonda mother with him to the
camp.

His next affair was to skin it, which he did by stripping the pelt from
the head, arms, legs, and all; so that, after being skinned, the
creature bore a most hideous resemblance to a child!

The process of cooking came next, and this Guapo made more tedious than
it might have been, as he was resolved to dress the marimonda after the
manner practised by the Indians, and which by them is esteemed the best.
He first built a little stage out of split laths of the pupunha palm.
For this a hard wood that will resist fire a long time is necessary, and
the pupunha was just the thing. Under this stage Guapo kindled a fire
of dry wood, and upon the laths he placed his monkey in a sitting
posture, with its arms crossed in front, and its head resting upon them.
The fire was then blown upon, until it became a bright blaze, which
completely enveloped the half upright form of the monkey. There was
plenty of smoke; but this is nothing in the eyes of a South American
Indian, many of whom prefer the "smoky flavour" in a roast monkey.

Guapo had now no more to do, but wait patiently until the body should be
reduced to a black and charred mass, for this is the condition in which
it is eaten by these strange people. When thus cooked, the flesh
becomes so dry that it will keep for months without spoiling.

The white people who liv