f THE BROKEN MIRROR By Adam Breede |^^."Don't put that mirror in!" » speaker was Nestor Fa Jes, a young Brazilian who was to be my interpreter on a hunting trip in the Jungles of Minas Geraes. , "Why not?" I queried, .continuing ^o pack my shaving outfit. “Because it will bring us bad jjtuck.” was the quick response. , "Oh. superstitious, eh?” I laugh ngly replied. , "Yes, everybody is superstitious *wn here and especially the hunt l' that is true. trly all hunters and sportsmen have considerable respect for omens and luck. They believe that signs . come forth before certain events. ' ..This is not only true of the sports l^en of South America, but of every cpahttry. Bla■■••11 end. First Bad Luck. By this time the engine was well under motion and was going at such a speed as to drag me along tlie railroad for about 100 yards. Of course, I wanted to see which *'gas the stronger, a Brasilian loco motive or myself, and to my as tonishment, I found that that engine pulled that whole train right out of my left hand. When I got to my feet the train was about one-quarter of a mile away, but was beginning to slow down. Running as hard as I could In my hunting boots, and waving my hands frantically, I finally caught the train and- continued the Journey. Noting that I was rubbing my lett arm constantly, my companion re marked: "See, that is what you get for putting that mirror in." ^ To which I sharply retorted: "Oh. it never would have happened if it jhvwei-e not for the mirror. S?: Two days later we arrived at v ilatipoo and immediately got ac tion to continue our journey by ox-carts and horseback as far into I te Jungles as possible. (We went down valleys and over , mountains without a mishap, but ,^511 the time the condition of the ^ligaments in my left arm was not improving. But as every sportsman must have an excuse when he miss es his mark. I had a good alibi. No Indoor Sport. Now, hunting big game In the jungles of South America, is any thing but an indoor sport. In truth, it is much harder work than hunting grizzlies in the Rockies because there is much climbing to do and the heat is so intense. As we journied along, little while crosses covered with white anil blue paper could be seen dotting either side of the road or trail. Each one of those crosses marked a spot where some native had been murdered. The crosses averaged from two to five feet high and in each case liad been placed by some close relative or near friend of tbe victim. Our first real camp was built In the heart of the Jungles within a mile of a small lake. But we had been warned against going near this place as it was one of the most fever stricken districts in the northern part of Brazil. However, this was the big game country, and it was that kind of game that I was after, so we es tablished a delightful little camp in short order I'lenty of flame. That no mistake had been made in the selection of the camping x spot, v is finite apparent by the ■bfl that within a couple of days had two tapirs several mop tiger, wild boar a rvl many Wk. While the natives were skinning the big tapir, which weighed about 800 pounds, I discovered an ideal spot where one could sit and smoke and reflect on the doings of the day and dream of the chase. It was not long before I had the place entirely cleared in the form of a circle, and a huge Aroelra tree stood like a giant in the center. Its branches were high and just far enough apart to let the soft moon beams through. It was evening and I had builded my campfire and sat quietly piedi tating beneath that aroeira tree. “Say. this is some place you have fixed up," remarked young Fagundes, as he entered through the doorway made of palms. “Yes," I replied. “And we cer tainly have a bunch of trophies, re gardless of the fact that I packed the mirror along. “You are right, but we are not through yet,” came the reply as Nestor Fagundes sat down on a log close to the fire. Move Bad Lark. Then, seeming to notice for the first time the giant tree that marked the center of the cam]), he exclaimed in a somewhat startled voice: "Do you know what kind of a tree that is?" I replied that I did not. "That is an aroeira tree." "A what?" I nsked. "An Aroeira tree,” ho replied rather curtly. "Well, what of it?” I queried "That will bring you bad luck, sure.” A ringing laugh burst from my lips. "That is all right.” said my friend. "You may laugh, but any. native here will tell you that that is the tree of bad luck and it also produces a skin disease. They say that the bad effects of this tree can only be avoided by treating the tree just as if it were a man.” "How's that?" "Well, every time you pass close to this tree, you are to take off your hat religiously and say eith»r good morning, good afternoon, good evening or how-do-you-do.” Whereupon I Immediately arose, doffed my hat, turned and backed in a most gallant fashion, at the same time addressing the tree with, "Good evening, my friend. How goes every little thing?” Then turning with a laugh I sat down to continue my smoke. "It is quite evident that you ars not superstitious in the least or you would not treat this tree so lightly,” remarked my comrade, as he henped another log on the firs. "Well, you see I respect your be lief enough in superstition to ad dress the tree to show that I meant to be friendly to It.” From then on the conversation continued along the line of omens and luck. A Tiger! It was a beautiful Brazilian moon light night. The entire heavens were clear and the myriad of stars winked and blinked through the leafy trees from every direction Amid such surroundings and in such a wonderful atmosphere it was Iierfectly natural that we should he in high spirits over the successful hunt. The guide and native helpers had long since retired, but young Fa gundes sat with me by the dying embers until the midnight hour strolled around. We had scarcely retired when the thunderous roar of a tiger echoned and re-echoed throughout the Jungle. Almost at the same time I heard a piercing cry of a human voice, in shrieks of terror. Springing to my feet, I saw the camp cook leaning against a tree in the moonlight. He was trembling and his eyes appeared to be bulging out. It was some time before he calmer! down sufficiently to explain that the tiger had come within about 1ft feet of where he was sleeping, when he belched forth his mightl roar. Then the entire camp was awake, and excitement ran high. But there was nothing to do hut to go back to bed and be ready for the morrow's hunt, "That Is what I call bringing your game right Into camp, young fellow." I remarked ta Fagundes. "You can't treat that for luck." "But you haven't bagged him yet,” was the calm retort. The Mirror Broken. Just then the stillness of the night was again broken by the howl of the beast. There was considerable hustling next morning around camp and we got an enrly start. We djd not have to hunt very long until we came upon fresh tracks of a monster ti ger. We trailed it through the Jun gle until late that afternoon and then decided to hunt the animal by night. Returning to camp we ate roast tapir and wild Itoar. While the na lives seemed to enjoy the ladled monkeys about as much as any thing. That afternoon I accidentally dropped the mirror off of a tree and broke it to bits. "There," cried my young friend interpreter. "Now you will have bad luck." "Yes.” I rpelied. "And seven-years of it. However. I am not going to lose any sleep over it.” The sole topic of the conversa tion that day was about the big tiger. Taking an early start that after noon wo went by horseback as far as we could, going down deep can yons and up to the point of a jag ged mountain where we found fresh tracks of the tiger, just as we had figured. A Hog for Bait. We had brought a native dog along as bait. Tying the dog to some brush, we found a fine tree in which we could camp for the night. It was the work of a rew min utes for young Fagundes and my self to get comfortably located high up in the boughs of a tree where we were carefully screened. The sun had just gone down and the heavens began to grow dark. The darkness seemed to affect the dog. for the howl that it put up could have been heard around that mountain. It certainly did seem that noth ing could prevent us from getting that tiger before morning—the stage was properly set for it. We were dressed for comfort, wearing helmets which were com pletely covered with netting, and leather gloves to protect our hands from the mosquitoes. That we were prepared for an all-night siege was evident by the looks of our lunch bag. The dog objected most seriously to being tied, so it kept up a con stant baying and howling, which was just the thing necessary to at tract the tiger. The odds were a 30 to 1 shot that we would not return to camp emp ty handed. and I was remarking about this to young Fagundes, who replied: ‘•yes. I will admit chances could not be more favorable than they are now. but I would feel better about it if you hadn't broken that mirror." ‘ There you go again. I suppose I never will hear the last of that broken mirror.” The .Storm. As if Ui answer to my statement, a startling crash came, apparently from a clear sky. A blinding streak of lightning was followed by deep, roaring thunder. It came so suddenly that neithei of us could speak for some time Then I broke the silence. "It looks as If we were going to have a bad storm,” ■ Yes," replied my companion. "The wind is rising, and it is sprink bng now ” So quietly had the storm ap proached that we did not realize the danger. In hopes that the storm would soon pass we remained on the windy perch, which was swaying wildly back and forth high above the thicket. Crash! Another blinding streak of light ning painted the heavens Immediately it seemed a cloud burst had taken place and that we were In the center of It. Darkness covered the mountain. C'autlonsly making our way down the giant tree we reached the ground, drenched to the skin. I-oosening the dog. we went blind ly down the mountain. The Raging Creek. Reaching the bottom of the can yon, a roaring sound could plainly lie heard above the piercing rain and whistling of the high wind— the little creek had within a few minutes grown into a madly, wind ing. treacherous stream. Fortunately. I had an electric flasher, for It was only by con stant use of It and much danger ous climbing that n fallen tree was located spunnlng the stream. Whether the dog foilowod us across on the fallen tree or not I do not know, but it was waiting for us when we reached our horses. In place of the storm abating it grew worse, and at times It was hard to sit in the saddle, as the horses with bowed heads and stum bling feet faced It. There was no road or trail to he guided l>y and even had there been it would have been impossible to see it. The noises were given free reign to find their way Istck to camp, which eventually they did. The natives greeted us with much excitement, as they thought we Would either be lost or drowned. That night we appreciated warm, woolen blankets more thaa aver ba ftirr. For three days and nights the sky was murky, streams all badly swol len and it was impossible to hunt. The natives became discouraged anil frightened. They informed me that I was camping in the most fever-stricken district in that part of Brazil and that if I stayed there a week I would be a dead man. I asked them how they knew that the fever season was now on and they said that the rainy season had come to stay. When questioned how they knew this, they pointed to the millions of fireflies that sparkled here and there In the Jungles. Natives Afraid. No Inducement I could offer to persuade them to remain—the en tire bunch of skinners and helpers departed in a itody and left me with only a guide, one helper and my Interpreter. Undoubtedly the natives were right, for we remained in camp near the lake several days longer, but never even got a chance to hunt. Breaking camp, our little party of four started on a 25-mile trip down the river, where game was said to be plentiful and climatic conditions better. Going as far as possible by horse back. we secured a dory two feet wide and 20 feet long, piled our duffle in and started down the river. We tried to pick up a native or two to (to with us to man the boat, but all refused, saying that it was too dangerous, as the trip could not be made without accident. They pointed out that the river had risen seven feet and that there were dangerous rapidr ahead. The river was as wild as a March hare and our little dory shot down the stream at a rapid puce We could not help but feel a thrill of ex citement as we fought our way along and especially when we came in sight of the first rapids. The guide and the native he!|>er were throwing a constant barrage of Portuguese bark and forth at each other and each aentence was punc tuated with an exclamation They used their utmost efforts to steer away from the rocks where the water was itoiling. seething, hiss ing and churning about In the ICupids Young Faguntjys and I braced our selves in tlie dory, holding our guns in our hands reads to throw them on the shore in rise of accident Just when it looked aa though the boat was under control it was caught in the rapids and whirled comtdetely around into the foaming mass. For an instant it looked as though nothing could save us from taking a treacherous trip over the rapids. Again the boat took another swift turn and was being carried sideways into the churning waters when the guide sprang upward, caught hold of the thick limb of an overhang ing tree and cried for help It was only after a hard struggle that we were able to land the dory and its contents all safely. This same performance was re peated three times that afternoon. Having passed the last rapids, and with darkness coming on we selected a place for .our ramp. Being dog tired, we slept until the hot rays of the morning sun awakened u* Not until iate in the afternoon did we make any at tempt at hunting "We are now In the heart of the best hunting section in northern Hr axil remarked the guide as we made our way through the jungle Continuing, lie said: "Tapir, tapir, everywhere I as sure you plenty of shots at them tomorrow Just then he stooped down and examined the earth. Another Tiger. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed "Tiger, Tiger.” Sure enough, there was the first print of a large tiger's paw. "Much grande,” he remarked as he designated the sixe of the tiger with his hands. We turned to trail the tiger, but it had crossed over the top of the mountain and undoubtedly far down the valley. We returned to camp that night empty-handed, but filled with con fidence and hope for the morrow. The next day the guide took the dogs to the edge of the river where we had found the tiger tracks They sniffed, gave a doop. long bay and started through the Jungle. Hour after hour we made our way close on the heels of. the hounds, every minute expecting to jump the tiger. But when the noon day sun hit the heavens we, as well as the dogs, were completely fagged out and It was almost Impossible to hunt lielween 11 In the morning and 3 In the afternoon. There was nothing for us to do but lie down In the shade and rest. Boring this time the guide kept repenting and assuring us there would he no trouble getting tapirs, ns he said there were tracks everywhere. “K we no get tiger today we get ^.tapir tomorrow, sure,” said t*ho guide. “All right,” I replied. "Tomor row will be devoted entirely to tapir hunting.” And it was. But we were no more successful hunting tapir than we were hunt ing tiger. Searching Parlies. The next day two natives came strolling into camp. They explained they had been sent out in search of us by some friends in a nearby valley, as the report bad got out that we were crazy with the fever and that we were either dead or running hopelessly about In the jun gle. They also reported that three different searching parties had been sent out trying to locate us. with instructions to take us back to the town. We entertained them tiiat day and tried to get them to remain with us, but they refused, saying that they were afraid of the fever. While the weather was most fa vorable in every respect and wo hunted from the break of dawn un til dusk, we never got sight of an other tiger or tapir. "Didn't I tell you that we would not have any more luck after you broke that looking glass?" my friend and interpreter reminded me. “Yes." I replied. "But we are not through yet. Can't you hear those apes chattering in the trees over there? And listen—there! That's a barbado. "Well get that bird tomor row." When I mentioned Wbado tha guide began to show new signs of life. He told us that there were quite a number of those aloes up there that stood on their hind feet and walked like a man, and had long whiskers He said that all natives were afraid to hunt them, but he was not and that he would take us out early in the morning over the thicket in which the apes were now so loudly chattering. It was nearly 3 o'clock tile next afternoon before we caught sight, of a barbado. It sat in the bushy tree and at first glance looked like a small red-headed Irishman, de* orated with whiskers. The barbado saw us about the same time we saw it and in a flash disappeared in the jungle Quietly we hunted for some - go of tlie barbado Five liar bathe*. After an hour we were rcw.ird**«l Having Just come up out of a little ravine we placed our gu'i* against the trunk of a tree and went t » a small nearby spring to get a drink. Hearing a slight noise I glanced up and then stood almost riveted in th** spot with amaxement. There, i! most above me. were five barbad<»* in one tree. I saw them all »t once. Quickly I secured my gun. hut when I looked again all I could see wai the shaking of the branches in the tree they just left. I fired three quick shots in that direction, but unfortunately non* of them found meat. The guide ind my interpreter had also fired In that direction hut were equally unsuccessful. Turning around. I saw one t»f tho large, long haired barhado* kw lag from the top of one tree to an other. It just nussed catching hoi 1 of an extended branch and w • * swiftly swinging hack Once ag i ,1 its long body shot through the air. At the same time I fired in> 4"t automatic. But the beast had land ed safely in the tree top and qui* i ly disappeared. “That broken mirror sure gives us all bad luck.** remarked the guide as we again made our w .y back to camp empty handed it least that is the way young Fugun* des interpreted his sentem The helper also pined the Ida nut of all bud luck on the mirror. .1 reminded us that we would be for tunate If we got out of the jungle* alive The broken mirror had begun to get on the nerves of the guide and helper, Just as It had upon tho nerves of my Interpreter. They ^ even said that wkh the cause of u* being covered with ticks anJ foot lice. rhe tick* were had enough l>ut th# foot lice were much worse, i* they made u* lame. But the ticks could be pulled off of the various parts of the body but the lies had to be dug out or cut out of our feet—most of them boring their way deep into the flesh between tbs toes, or underneath the toenails. Home even hurled themselves deep Into the heel, and caused Inflamae tlon to set in very quickly. "I'm sick and want to go home.t complained the helper upon reach* Ing camp. Then the guide served notice that he was going to leave the nest day. After murh persua sion, I Anally got them to agree t« remain one day longer, ns I was anxious to get a few more speci men* When I retired that night I (CmUIhmI mi Pec* Kl«hl.k_„