In returning from fishing excursions we usually cut across the several miles of sandy waste toward camp, guided by the bright fire which the cook was required to keep burning, and in this way learned a good deal about the turtle’s habits. After leaving the water the creature wends its way toward the highest point on the island or _playa_, and with a few powerful strokes of the flippers excavates a deep hole; the eggs, twenty to a hundred in number, are then deposited, after which the sand is scooped back into place and patted down so carefully that it takes a very experienced eye to locate the spot. The turtle then hurries back to the water, where it apparently remains until the following year. When the eggs, warmed by the sun’s rays, finally hatch, the _playas_ swarm with small turtles which are eagerly collected by the natives, boiled entire and eaten. The egg contains a great deal of oil, and although cooked a long time always remains soft. Iguana eggs are taken, also, and boiled and eaten, even when about to hatch. Besides the turtles there were many other signs of life on the sand-banks. Water-birds, squatting low in some cup-shaped hollow, looked stupidly at the dazzling light of the gas-lamps, and could be approached to within a few feet; downy young birds waited quietly until nearly touched with the hand and then ran away into the darkness, like puffballs rolling before a breeze. The _Raudal de Santa Barbara_ is a wicked stretch of water. The Ventuari, coming from the neighborhood of the Brazilian border, forms an extensive delta near its mouth. There are many islands, some of great size, and all heavily forested. The Orinoco is very wide, and hundreds of sharp, tall rocks protrude above the water, causing a series of rapids which are hard to ascend. It took us three days of the most trying kind of work to traverse this stretch of agitated water, and finally to haul the boat up the falls, which come as a sort of climax at the end. A strong wind blows from the north almost constantly, whipping the water into a choppy sea. On the bank stands a good-sized rubber-camp, and extra hands can usually be secured to help pull the boat through the rapids. The men from this place had just returned from a hunt in the forest, bringing two jaguars and an armadillo weighing sixty-five pounds. One of the jaguars was black. All of these animals were eaten, and of the two species the flesh of the jaguars was the better. One night, not long after, one of these animals invaded our camp. As the sand-bank we had selected was a narrow one, the crew chose to sleep on the forest side; they greatly feared the crocodiles in the river. Early in the morning I was awakened by a jaguar’s roaring mingled with frightened wails, and upon investigation discovered that the men had come to our part of the camp near the water, leaving the captain’s wife in their former location. They had reasoned that she was the least useful member of the party and had