"When the collector reached Para he received letters that called him down the coast, and compelled him to part with his pet. He tried to sell the beast, but nobody in Para wanted to buy a tiger; then he tried to give him away, but nobody would accept a tiger as a gift; next he offered him to the city to start a menagerie with, but the city didn't propose starting one; he tried to hire somebody to kill the beast, but nobody would take the contract; then he caged him for shipment to England, but the agent of the steamer refused the freight; the hotel-keeper wouldn't accept the tiger as security for the gentleman's board, and altogether he was in an awkward predicament. [Illustration: STEAMER LEAVING PARA.] "When the southward-bound steamer arrived he took the tiger and cage along as part of his personal baggage, having placed a large stone in the bottom of the cage for the animal to 'scratch his claws upon.' The captain of the steamer demanded extra payment for such a package, the passenger refused it, and during the altercation the cage and contents were thrown overboard. The stone carried the whole thing to the bottom, and there it rested." "That was the end of the jaguar, I suppose?" queried Fred. "The end of the animal," was the reply, "but not of the owner's troubles. When the steamer returned to Para the authorities presented the captain with a bill for violating an ordinance relative to obstructing the harbor by throwing things overboard. He escaped responsibility on the ground that the animal was the personal luggage of the passenger; when the latter came again to Para he was presented with the account, and had to pay it." "He was glad to get out of the scrape," remarked Frank, "and didn't hesitate to pay the final bill." "Quite likely," answered Manuel. "But somebody had fished up the drowned beast, and stuffed the skin. When the traveller had settled with the authorities the skin was brought to him. He paid for the work of preservation, and then sent the specimen to a friend in England, in care of a taxidermist. It arrived in bad condition, at least the taxidermist said so, as he sent a bill for repairs, and explained that he supposed the gentleman wanted to have the skin in proper shape when presented to his friend. "He paid this bill, and happily it was the last. I don't believe he will buy another jaguar in a hurry." Manuel's story was voted a good one, and worthy of preservation--like the hide of the animal whose adventures it recorded. Frank agreed to be the taxidermist of the story, without charge; he rendered Manuel's fluent Spanish into the vernacular of the United States, wherein it is here presented. [Illustration: HEAD OF NAVIGATION.] CHAPTER XV. DOWN THE RIVER.--ARRIVAL ON THE BENI.--BIRDS OF THE AMAZON VALLEY.--BUILDING A HUT.--HUNTING WITH POISONED ARROWS.--TURTLES, AND TURTLE-HUNTING. [Illustration: A CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE.]