udent who is calling us. _Carrambo_! where can he be? I
see only a hammock hung between two trees. Eh! as I live, he is inside
it. _Carrai_!"

As Costal finished speaking, a loud peal of laughter burst from his
lips, which to him in the hammock appeared like heavenly music. It told
him that the two men had discovered his situation; and the student at
once fervently returned thanks to God for this interposition of His
mercy.

Clara was sharing the mirth of the Indian, when music of a very
different sort stifled the laugh upon his lips. It was the cry of the
jaguars, that, suddenly excited by the voice of the student, had all
four of them sent forth a simultaneous scream.

"_Carrambo_!" exclaimed Clara, with a fresh terror depicted upon his
face; "the tigers again."

"Rather strange!" said the Indian. "Certainly their howls appeared to
come from the same place as the voice of the man. Hola! Senor
student," he continued, raising his voice, so as to be heard by him in
the hammock, "are you making your siesta alone, or have you company
under the shade of those tamarinds?"

Don Cornelio attempted to reply, but his speech was unintelligible both
to the Indian and the negro. In fact, terror had so paralysed his
tongue, as to render him incapable of pronouncing his words distinctly!

For a moment his arm was seen elevated above the folds of the hammock,
as if to point out his terrible neighbours upon the tree. But the thick
foliage still concealing the jaguars from the eye of Costal, rendered
the gesture of the student as unintelligible as his cry.

"For the love of God, hold your oar!" cried Clara; "perhaps the tigers
have taken refuge on the top of the tamarinds!"

"All the more reason why we should get up to them," replied the Indian.
"Would you leave this young man to smother in his hammock till the
waters had subsided?"

In saying this, Costal plied his oars more vigorously than ever; and, in
spite of the remonstrances of his companion, headed the canoe in a
direct line towards the hammock.

"If these be the same tigers we encountered yesterday," said Clara, in
an anxious tone of voice, "and I am almost sure they are, by the mewing
of their whelps, think for a moment, Costal, how desperately spiteful
they will be against us."

"And do you think I am not equally spiteful against them?" replied
Costal, urging his canoe onwards with more rapidity than ever.

A few strokes of the paddle brought the lig