In that land of distress and wretchedness, where thousands perish for the necessaries of life, and tens of thousands more gain a scanty subsistence, fifty-three millions of pounds, or 250 millions of dollars, are annually spent for poison to augment the poverty, misery, and death. Strange infatuation!――When will old England be alive to the interests of the great mass of her citizens, and place an everlasting quarantine upon this source of physical and moral disease, temporal and eternal death. ―――― The whole community of whites on the Columbia River, and the various settlements in Oregon, have abandoned the use of intoxicating drinks. [Illustration: _A Tapir._] Dick Boldhero. CHAPTER V. _The adventure of the monkeys concluded――strange animals――weariness, despair――a terrible incident._ My readers can hardly imagine the bewildered state of my mind, occasioned by the scenes described in my last chapter. The little apes, who grinned, chattered, frisked, and frolicked in the moonlight around me, appeared like so many fantastic sprites, and I could scarcely believe that it was not all a dream. Never shall I forget some of their quizzical countenances and grotesque gestures, as they peeped at me between the branches of the trees. After they had hung around me for several minutes, one of them uttered a shrill cry, and with many a leap, and jirk, and bound, they disappeared. They seemed to run along upon the trees, passing from the branches of one to another, as easily as a rabbit upon the solid ground. They were indeed supplied with limbs to accomplish this. They had not only four hands, but they were furnished with a tail, which seemed amazingly convenient and useful. Never was any instrument employed with more dexterity and success. They wound it around the limbs of the trees, where they hung suspended, or swung from branch to branch. When they were travelling upon the giddy heights of the forests, they held it erect, in order to keep them steady, thus using it as a rope-dancer does his balance pole. At this time I knew very little about these creatures, but I afterwards learned that the forests of Guiana, as well as other warm parts of South America, abound in various kinds of monkeys, and that the species who made me the nocturnal visit I have described, are called _howlers_. They are particularly noisy at night, and make the forests ring with their elvish din. It is common for one of them to mount a tree, and seem to address the assembled group around him, embellishing his discourse with the most extraordinary grimaces, gestures, and contortions. One can hardly look upon a scene of this sort, and not feel it to be a sort of satire upon human oratory.