Little Jack began to suffer a little from this life in the woods, to which he was not accustomed, and which was becoming very monotonous for him.  And then all the promises which had been made him had not been kept.  The caoutchouc jumping-jacks, the humming-birds, all those seemed constantly to recede.  There had also been a question of showing him the most beautiful parrots in the world, and they ought not to be wanting in these rich forests.  Where, then, were the popinjays with green plumage, almost all originally from these countries, the aras, with naked cheeks, with long pointed tails, with glittering colors, whose paws never rest on the earth, and the “camindes,” which are more peculiar to tropical countries, and the many-colored she-parrots, with feathered faces, and finally all those prattling birds which, according to the Indians, still speak the language of extinct tribes?

Of parrots, little Jack only saw ash-gray jakos, with red tails, which abounded under the trees.  But these jakos were not new to him.  They have transported them into all parts of the world.  On the two continents they fill the houses with their insupportable chattering, and, of all the family of the “psittacius,” they are the ones which learn to speak most easily.

It must be said, besides, that if Jack was not contented, Cousin Benedict was no more so.  He had been allowed to wander a little to the right or to the left during the march.  However, he had not found any insect which was fit to enrich his collection.  Even the “pyrophores” obstinately refused to show themselves to him, and attract him by the phosphorescences of their corselet.  Nature seemed truly to mock the unhappy entomologist, whose temper was becoming cross.

For four days more the march toward the northeast was continued in the same way.  On the 16th of April the distance traversed from the coast could not be estimated at less than one hundred miles.  If Harris had not gone astray—­and he affirmed it without hesitation—­the Farm of San Felice was no more than twenty miles from the halting place of that day.  Before forty-eight hours the little troop then would have a comfortable shelter where its members could at last repose from their fatigues.

Meanwhile, though the plateau had been almost entirely crossed in its middle part, not a native, not a wanderer had been encountered under the immense forest.

More than once, without saying anything about it, Dick Sand regretted being unable to go ashore on some other point of the coast.  More to the south, or more to the north, villages, hamlets, or plantations would not have been lacking, and long before this Mrs. Weldon and her companions would have found an asylum.

But, if the country seemed to be abandoned by man, animals showed themselves more frequently during these last days.  At times was heard a kind of long, plaintive cry, that Harris attributed to some of those large tardi-grades, habitual denizens of those vast wooded regions, named “ais.”