The hunters now arrived at an open space where there were several large umbrageous trees, and as it was approaching mid-day they resolved to rest here for a couple of hours.  Birds and insects were gradually becoming more and more silent, and soon afterwards the only sounds that broke upon their ears were the curious metallic notes of the urupongas, or bell-birds; which were so like to the rapid beating of a smith’s hammer on an anvil, that it was with the greatest difficulty Barney was restrained from going off by himself in search of the “smiddy.”  Indeed he began to suspect that the worthy hermit was deceiving him, and was only fully convinced at last when he saw one of the birds.  It was pure white, about the size of a thrush, and had a curious horn or fleshy tubercle upon its head.

Having rested and refreshed themselves, they resumed their journey a short time before the noisy inhabitants of the woods recommenced their active afternoon operations.

“Hallo! what’s that?” cried Barney, starting back and drawing his pistol, while Martin hastily fitted an arrow to his bow.

Not ten paces in front of them a frightful monster ran across their path, which seemed so hideous to Martin that his mind instantly reverted to the fable of St. George and the Dragon, and he almost expected to see fire issuing from its mouth.  It was a huge lizard, with a body about three feet long, covered with bright scales.  It had a long, thick tail.  Its head was clumsy and misshapen, and altogether its aspect was very horrible.  Before either Martin or Barney could fire, the hermit dropped his gun and spear, sprang quickly forward, caught the animal by the tail, and, putting forth his great strength to the utmost, swung it round his head and dashed its brains out against a tree.

Barney and Martin could only stare with amazement.

“This we call an iguana,” said the hermit, as he piled a number of heavy stones on the carcase to preserve it from other animals.  “It is very good to eat,—­as good as chicken.  This is not a very big one; they are sometimes five feet long, but almost quite harmless,—­not venomous at all; and the only means he has to defend himself is the tail, which is very powerful, and gives a tremendously hard blow; but, as you see, if you catch him quick he can do nothing.”

“It’s all very well for you, or even Barney here, to talk of catching him by the tail,” said Martin, smiling; “but it would have puzzled me to swing that fellow round my head.”

“Arrah! ye’re right, boy; I doubt if I could have done it mesilf,” said Barney.

“No fear,” said the hermit, patting Martin’s broad shoulders as he passed him and led the way; “you will be strong enough for that very soon,—­as strong as me in a year or two.”

They now proceeded down into a somewhat dark and closely wooded valley, through which meandered a small rivulet.  Here they had some difficulty in forcing their way through the dense underwood and broad leaves, most of which seemed very strange to Martin and his comrade, being so gigantic.  There were also many kinds of ferns, which sometimes arched over their heads and completely shut out the view, while some of them crept up the trees like climbing-plants.  Emerging from this, they came upon a more open space, in the midst of which grew a number of majestic trees.