Brett mentions several instances which came under his notice of human beings being killed by jaguars. A Carib Indian had gone into the forest to procure touari,--the inner bark of the sapucaya-nut tree, of the thin papery layers of which the Indians form the envelopes of their cigarettes. While employed in cutting off the long strips of the bark, on turning round he discovered a jaguar stealthily approaching. His friends, as he did not return, set out in search of him. For a whole day they searched in vain; but on the second they discovered his foot-tracks, and those of a large jaguar. Following these for a long way in anxious suspense, they at length came to a spot where there were marks of a conflict, and they discovered their comrade's bow lying broken on the ground. Still it was apparent that the Indian had beaten off his assailant, for the tracks of both led still further into the forest. At length they reached the scene of the last desperate struggle. On the ground lay the man's knife, which he had lashed to the end of a stick; but it had been loosened and turned aside against the tough hide of the animal. From the marks on a tree it was evident that the poor fellow, in dire extremity, at the approach of night, had been trying to climb it, but ere he had ascended ten feet the jaguar had sprung after him, and pulling him down, had torn him to pieces. The remains, terribly mangled and half-devoured, lay near. One of the Caribs who had found the body described the sickness which came over him at the sight, and remarked that he had never since felt secure when traversing the forest with only his knife and bow and arrows. On the banks of the Pomaroon lived a Carib family, with a number of small children. The young ones had gone into the water to bathe, when they were startled by the cry of the smallest of their party--a little boy-- whom they had left seated at the water's edge. On looking round they beheld a huge jaguar which had been attracted by their noises of splashing, and which, having come behind the poor child, was standing with one paw on his shoulder. The elder children, screaming for help, attempted bravely to drive away the savage beast, but their efforts only resulted in it seizing the poor little fellow's head with its powerful jaws. It was a moment of agony. Their father was absent, but another Carib who was near rushed to the spot, followed by the child's mother and some other females. The beast, startled at this sudden increase in the number of its assailants, dropped its victim, whom the man immediately took up and gave to the mother. But assistance had come too late. The child gave his last struggle as his mother received him in her arms. When night set in, the disappointed beast came back to claim his prey, roaring and yelling through the hours of darkness around the open shed which formed their dwelling. Females alone were present, as