f honour in the
other, and then, bidding adieu to Don Diego, and embarking with their
guns and a large supply of ammunition and provisions, they commenced the
ascent of the river Tacames, little thinking that some of the party
would never descend that river or see Don Diego again!

CHAPTER TEN.

HUNTING IN THE WILDS OF ECUADOR.

There is something very delightful and exhilarating in the first start
on a hunting expedition into a wild and almost unknown region. After
one gets into the thick of it the thoughts are usually too busy and too
much in earnest with the actual realities in hand to permit of much
rambling into the regions of romance--we say _much_ because there is
always _some_ rambling of this sort--but, during the first day, before
the actual work has well begun, while the adventures are as yet only
anticipated, and the mind is free to revel in imaginings of what is
possible and probable, there is a wild exultation which swells the heart
and induces an irresistible tendency to shout. Indeed, on the present
occasion, some of the party did shout lustily in order to vent their
feelings; and Larry O'Hale, in particular, caused the jungle to echo so
loudly with the sounds of his enthusiasm that the affrighted apes and
jaguars must have trembled in their skins if they were possessed of
ordinary feelings.

The scenery, with its accompaniments, was most beautiful and
interesting. The river, a narrow one, flowed through a dense and
continuous forest; rich and lofty trees over-arched it, affording
agreeable shade, and on the branches were to be seen great numbers of
kingfishers, parrots, and other birds of rich plumage, which filled the
air at least with sound, if not with melody. The concert was further
swelled by the constant cries of wild beasts--such as the howl of a
tiger or the scream of a monkey. But there is no pleasure without some
alloy. On this river mosquitoes were the alloy! These tormenting
creatures persecuted the hunters by night as well as by day, for they
are amongst the few insects which indulge in the pernicious habit of
never going to bed. We cannot indeed say, authoritatively, that
mosquitoes never sleep, but we can and do say that they torment human
beings, and rob them of _their_ sleep, if possible, without
intermission. Larry O'Hale being of a fiery nature, was at first driven
nearly to distraction, and, as he said himself, he did little else than
slap his own face day and night