It was now December--a time when the winter had already commenced in New England, but it was very different in Guiana. I found the weather very warm, and my strength was so impaired by my sickness, that the first day I did not proceed more than eight miles. I slept at a small plantation, and the next morning, having taken leave of my guide, I proceeded alone upon my journey. For three days, nothing particular occurred. The country was slightly undulating, and portions of it were exceedingly fertile. Here and there was a plantation, but a large part of the land was covered with forests. On the fourth day after my departure, I met with a curious adventure. There is in this region a species of wild hog called peccary. In some parts, they are numerous, and I had frequently seen them crossing my path in the course of my travels. They seemed not to be very shy, yet, as I approached them, they would usually start off with a kind of grunt, or bark, and hide themselves in the bushes. On the occasion just referred to, I chanced to see a peccary, with a litter of young ones, lying by the side of my path. When I came near, they sprang up and ran away. I however gave chase, and soon caught one of the little pigs. The fellow instantly set up the most vociferous squealing--upon this, the mother turned back and came upon me with savage ferocity. Her mouth was open, and she uttered a sort of bellowing that was quite frightful. I was not disposed to yield my prize at once, but holding on to the hind legs of the pig with the left hand, and flourishing my club in the right, I faced the infuriated dam. She hesitated a little, but kept up her cry. In a few minutes, I saw issuing from the adjacent thickets several other peccaries, apparently coming to the rescue. They immediately advanced, and I was soon surrounded with more than forty of these raging beasts. Affairs were now getting serious, and I thought it best to release the little prisoner, hoping that this would pacify the tumult. But the tempest was not so easily appeased. The bristly mob still encircled me, grunting, squealing, barking, and bellowing, while, at the same time, their tusks were displayed, ready to rend me in pieces. I was obliged to keep wheeling round, brandishing my club, occasionally giving an obtrusive snout a pretty hearty thump by way of caution. The storm, however, seemed to thicken, and it was obvious that the whole troop would soon rush upon me. In this extremity, discretion seemed the better part of valor, and concluding that I had better risk my honor than my life, I took advantage of an open space, sprang through the circle, and leaped into the branches of a tree that was near by.