its
powerful fore-arms and held on as if for life and death. It would have
taken a stronger man than Guapo to have pulled either of the branches
away again. The thing was now done. Giving his axe to Leon to carry for
him, Guapo lifted an ai, still clinging to the branch, in each hand, and
carried them off as if they had been a pair of water-pots. He did not
wish to kill them until he got them home, alleging that they were better
for eating when freshly butchered.

The bark-hunters now continued their route, and shortly after entered a
little glade or opening in the forest, about an acre in size. When they
had reached the middle of this, Guapo threw his ais upon the ground and
marched on.

"Why do you leave them?" inquired the others.

"No fear for them," replied Guapo; "they'll be there when we come back.
If I carried them into the woods, they might steal off while we were at
work, but it would take them six hours to get to the nearest tree." All
laughed at this, and went on, leaving the ais to themselves. Before
passing out from the glade, they stopped a moment to look at the great,
conical nests of the termites, or white ants, several of which, like
soldiers' tents, stood near the edge of the glade. It was yet early, the
air was chilly, and the ants were not abroad; so that, after gazing for
a while on these singular habitations, the bark-gatherers pursued their
way, and were soon under the shadow of the cinchona trees.

CHAPTER XXIV.

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 storehouse. 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