Auhiqui—­lives in the houses where it devours everything edible.

Chicitaya—­its bite gives a transient fever.

Monyuarah—­clears a large space in the forest for its nest.

Sauba—­carries a green leaf over its head.

Tachee—­a black ant whose bite gives a transient fever.

Tanajura—­one inch long and edible when fried in lard.

Taxyrana—­enters the houses like the auhiqui.

Termita—­builds a typical cone-shaped nest in the dry part of the forests.

Tracoa—­its bite gives no fever, but the effect is of long duration.

Tucandeira—­black and an inch and a half long, with a bite not only painful but absolutely dangerous.

Tucushee—­gives a transient fever.

Uca—­builds large nests in the trees.

While convalescing from my first attack of swamp-fever, I had occasion to study a most remarkable species of spider which was a fellow lodger in the hut I then occupied.  In size, the specimen was very respectable, being able to cover a circle of nearly six inches in diameter.  This spider subsists on large insects and at times on the smaller varieties of birds, like finches, etc.  Its scientific name is Mygale avicularia.  The natives dread it for its poisonous bite and on account of its great size and hairy body.  The first time I saw the one in my hut was when it was climbing the wall in close proximity to my hammock.  I got up and tried to crush it with my fist, but the spider made a lightning-quick move and stopped about five or six inches from where I hit the wall.

Several times I repeated the attack without success, the spider always succeeding in moving before it could be touched.  Somewhat out of temper, I procured a hammer of large size and continued the chase until I was exhausted.  When my hand grew steady again, I took my automatic pistol, used for big game, and, taking a steady aim on the fat body of the spider, I fired.  But with another of the remarkably quick movements the spider landed the usual safe distance from destruction.  Then I gave it up.  For all I know, that animal, I can scarcely call it an insect after using a big game pistol on it, is still occupying the hut.  About nine months later I was telling Captain Barnett, of the R.M.S. Napo which picked me up on the Amazon on my way home, about my ill success in hunting the spider.  “Lange,” he asked, “why didn’t you try for him with a frying-pan?”

CHAPTER III

OTHER INCIDENTS DURING MY STAY IN REMATE DE MALES