The wily Jaguar avoided the intolerable annoyance and danger by seeking a partly-fallen, leaning tree-trunk, or a thick branch, fifteen or twenty feet above the ground. This was well above the zone of perpetual torment, for the obnoxious insects formed a stratum that hugged the earth. Among the branches the squirrels frolicked, whisking their plume-like tails and keeping at a respectable distance from every other animal that was not of their own family. Some of them were of extraordinary size, with red backs and white under parts; others belonged to the extreme lower end of the scale and were scarcely larger than good-sized mice; but they all seemed a good-natured, fun-loving lot that enjoyed life to the fullest extent. The Cebus monkeys were of a very different nature. They always wore tragic expressions on their faces and their lives were full of suffering and woe for they had enemies without numbers. If they showed themselves on the sunlit dome of the treetops, an eagle was always ready to pounce down upon them and carry away one of their number, screaming piteously, in its talons. When they descended to drink caimans were lurking near at hand to drag them into the dark depths below. Snakes of the constrictor family were not wanting among the branches; despite their huge size they had a habit of lying patiently in wait where the cover was thickest, or of appearing in the most unexpected places and after each of their swift lunges the monkey population was reduced by one. Then too, there was Suma, never averse to striking with murderous intent at anything that came within reach. The damp chill of the nights penetrated the bodies of the closely huddled groups, and caused them to shiver; and during the hottest hours of the day they trembled with the ague. So their existence, taken as a whole was a most unfortunate and melancholy one. There were also other denizens of the dismal places. At noon the marsh deer with wide-spreading antlers sought them out as the only available protection from the blistering sunlight. But they were wary creatures, ever on the alert, sensing danger and fleeing from it before their position was really imperilled. The tapirs too were shy but not so apprehensive of their welfare, for they were powerful animals and well versed in jungle strategy. Once Suma had essayed to try her prowess on one of the big ungulates by springing from a lower branch and burying her claws and fangs in its shoulder. But the hide was so tough, particularly along the ridge that ran down from the neck that she gained little more than a secure hold and this the tapir broke by promptly bolting through the densest brush where the stout overhanging branches brushed the Jaguar off as if she had been a fly and left her lying bruised and stunned on the soggy ground. Herds of peccaries roamed the forest islands at will. Their safety lay principally in numbers, but more of them anon.