Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon | Page 8

way that
was not very reassuring for the captain of the woods.
Unmistakably the sight of Torres did not inspire the guariba with
friendly thoughts. Had he then particular reasons for wishing evil to
this defenseless specimen of the human race which chance had
delivered over to him? Perhaps! We know how certain animals retain
the memory of the bad treatment they have received, and it is possible
that against backwoodsmen in general he bore some special grudge.
In fact Indians especially make more fuss about the monkey than any
other kind of game, and, no matter to what species it belongs, follow its
chase with the ardor of Nimrods, not only for the pleasure of hunting it,
but for the pleasure of eating it.
Whatever it was, the guariba did not seen disinclined to change
characters this time, and if he did not quite forget that nature had made

him but a simple herbivore, and longed to devour the captain of the
woods, he seemed at least to have made up his mind to get rid of one of
his natural enemies.
After looking at him for some minutes the guariba began to move
round the tree. He stepped slowly, holding his breath, and getting
nearer and nearer. His attitude was threatening, his countenance
ferocious. Nothing could have seemed easier to him than to have
crushed this motionless man at a single blow, and assuredly at that
moment the life of Torres hung by a thread.
In truth, the guariba stopped a second time close up to the tree, placed
himself at the side, so as to command the head of the sleeper, and lifted
his stick to give the blow.
But if Torres had been imprudent in putting near him in the crevice of
the root the little case which contained his document and his fortune, it
was this imprudence which saved his life.
A sunbeam shooting between the branches just glinted on the case, the
polished metal of which lighted up like a looking-glass. The monkey,
with the frivolity peculiar to his species, instantly had his attention
distracted. His ideas, if such an animal could have ideas, took another
direction. He stopped, caught hold of the case, jumped back a pace or
two, and, raising it to the level of his eyes, looked at it not without
surprise as he moved it about and used it like a mirror. He was if
anything still more astonished when he heard the rattle of the gold
pieces it contained. The music enchanted him. It was like a rattle in the
hands of a child. He carried it to his mouth, and his teeth grated against
the metal, but made no impression on it.
Doubtless the guariba thought he had found some fruit of a new kind, a
sort of huge almost brilliant all over, and with a kernel playing freely in
its shell. But if he soon discovered his mistake he did not consider it a
reason for throwing the case away; on the contrary, he grasped it more
tightly in his left hand, and dropped the cudgel, which broke off a dry
twig in its fall.

At this noise Torres woke, and with the quickness of those who are
always on the watch, with whom there is no transition from the
sleeping to the waking state, was immediately on his legs.
In an instant Torres had recognized with whom he had to deal.
"A guariba!" he cried.
And his hand seizing his manchetta, he put himself into a posture of
defense.
The monkey, alarmed, jumped back at once, and not so brave before a
waking man as a sleeping one, performed a rapid caper, and glided
under the trees.
"It was time!" said Torres; "the rogue would have settled me without
any ceremony!"
Of a sudden, between the hands of the monkey, who had stopped at
about twenty paces, and was watching him with violent grimaces, as if
he would like to snap his fingers at him, he caught sight of his precious
case.
"The beggar!" he said. "If he has not killed me, he has done what is
almost as bad. He has robbed me!"
The thought that the case held his money was not however, what then
concerned him. But that which made him jump was the recollection
that it contained the precious document, the loss of which was
irreparable, as it carried with it that of all his hopes.
"Botheration!" said he.
And at the moment, cost what it might to recapture his case, Torres
threw himself in pursuit of the guariba.
He knew that to reach such an active animal was not easy. On the
ground he could get away too fast, in the branches he could get away
too far. A well-aimed gunshot could alone