It’s a man-eater. Quick, boss!” he yelled suddenly, grabbing him by the arm.

“It’s coming running. Let’s climb this lapacho.”

The jungle had just trembled with a deep roar, this time nearby. The beast, prodded by hunger and delight in human flesh, came rushing toward its prey, letting out a growl of anxiousness.

In a moment our men were astride the first branches of the leaf-laden tree—which was not much of a refuge, because the puma climbs with even greater impetus than the jaguar.

But at least that way a defense was possible, while on the ground they would have been torn apart at once between the formidable jaws of the beast.

One after another the roars came ever more clearly, and the animal now was upon them.

“It’s coming running,” muttered the Indian, clenching the grip of his machete in his practiced hand. In fact, they could now hear a muffled rustle of branches shaken violently; and—so near this time as to provoke tumultuous heartbeats in those two apparently predestined to a horrible death—a roar announced the immediate presence of the beast, And our men had already made a last appeal to all their self-possession, when the traveler, who for a minute now had been listening to the roars with astonishment, murmured as he grew pale:

“I know that . . . Guaycurú! That way of . . .” And before the Indian had time to answer, the traveler let out a cry of joy, beating his forehead: “We’re a couple of idiots. Guaycurú! We didn’t recognize her!”

And they bounded to the ground.

II

The Indian, who was more agile, jumped from his perch into empty space. They were five meters up, and this is a risky leap anywhere. But he was saved by his incredible native adroitness, coming out with no more than a twisted ankle.

No sooner was he on the ground than the traveler, with amazing speed, brought his hands to his mouth in the form of a horn, and let go in the night a hoarse and protracted yell that resounded gloomily in the jungle, thus sending forth, in the very depths of the wild beasts’ domain, the challenge of a powerful human voice. The yell was answered immediately by a terrific roar, so near that the men shuddered, despite their bravery.

A moment later the branches were shaking, two eyes were shining in the dark, and an enormous shadow was flinging itself upon them in a single leap—but it was a leap of joy.

“Down, Divina, down!” shouted the traveler, restraining the advances of his lioness with his commanding voice. The animal went on emitting raucous howls of delight, trying to rub up against her owner however she could.

It’s no secret that a puma’s caresses are as much to be feared as its rages, and that the paw it holds out toward its master with the solicitous intent of caressing him has five claws, five perfect Arabian daggers that cut deep into the flesh, no matter how slight the affection which incites them. So the traveler, content as he was with the devotion his lioness was showing him, was very careful to avoid her getting near.

“Why this, boss?” asked the surprised Indian, coming near. But the animal turned her head toward him and let out an intense and ill-tempered growl.

“Careful!” the traveler yelled at him. “Don’t get close! When she sees me again after several hours, she gets terribly jealous. Down, Divina!”

In the vague light he had seen the tail of the lioness take a rigid, horizontal position. Since this is an unmistakable sign of attack, he barely found the means to control her with his voice. At once he had to pet her lavishly, since the animal, with her initial excitement now past, was voluptuously rubbing herself between her master’s legs. She even allowed Guaycurú to gently scratch her head. Once they’d managed that, and since the pleasure she was feeling was far greater than her passing jealousy, she renewed her forthright friendship with the Indian. Five minutes later the three of them were walking down the trail in brotherly comradeship.

Rain, wind, and thunderclaps had ceased. The silence of the jungle seemed even deeper, as though under water. Only the lightning-flashes went on noiselessly illuminating the sky.

“What about this?” asked Guaycurú again. “How did she escape?”

At that moment the traveler was examining the sturdy collar of the beast walking beside him, and he rose up after a fruitless investigation.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “The collar is in perfect shape. The chain’s come off, but I can’t figure out how she managed to detach the hook. If we were dealing with a dog I’d be ready to believe that somebody removed the chain; but I don’t think there’s anyone so totally down on life that he’d get the idea of going to release this cat,” he concluded, landing a powerful slap on the flank of the lioness, who purred at the caress. That slap, a product of the traveler’s nervous energy, was very far from being a caress. But the lioness surely understood it that way, because she lifted her head toward her master with indolent affection, in quest of another sweet token of love.

“You think she was hungry?” asked Guaycurú.

“No; this morning she ate half the deer she caught yesterday, and today at nightfall, since I didn’t know how long I was going to be gone, I let her loose to go into the woods, but in a little while she came back bored. All the better,” murmured the traveler in conclusion.

The lioness, as if she understood that they were talking about her, looked at one and then the other with phosphorescent eyes, as she walked on with the long and predatory pace of wild beasts.

The two strange travelers and their even stranger companion had been moving along for an hour, and it looked as if that troubled night was going to end with no further disturbances, when suddenly the lioness stopped dead in her tracks.

The warning of an animal who comes to a stop facing straight ahead in the woods is well worth bearing in mind. And especially so in the case before us, since along with her animal nature the lioness enjoyed the advantage of having been born in that very jungle which had just given her notice of something out of the ordinary.

The men stopped.

“What’s up?” asked the traveler in a low voice.

“I don’t know,” replied the Indian in the same tone. “She’s heard something.”

They listened carefully, holding their breath, but heard nothing.

The lioness kept standing still, however, with her ears pricked up.