It was a robust, round-headed, short-legged creature, about as big as a good-sized cat, and clothed in a thick, greenish-brown fur.

The ground all about was covered with creepers, binding the ferns, bushes, and old dead branches together; and in this confused tangle the animal scrambled and tore with a great show of energy, but really made very little progress; and all at once it flashed into my mind that it was a sloth--a common animal, but rarely seen on the ground--with no tree near to take refuge in.

The shock of joy this discovery produced was great enough to unnerve me, and for some moments I stood trembling, hardly able to breathe; then recovering I hastened after it, and stunned it with a blow from my chopper on its round head.
"Poor sloth!" I said as I stood over it.

"Poor old lazy-bones! Did Rima ever find you fast asleep in a tree, hugging a branch as if you loved it, and with her little hand pat your round, human-like head; and laugh mockingly at the astonishment in your drowsy, waking eyes; and scold you tenderly for wearing your nails so long, and for being so ugly?
Lazybones, your death is revenged! Oh, to be out of this wood--away from this sacred place--to be anywhere where killing is not murder!" Then it came into my mind that I was now in possession of the supply of food which would enable me to quit the wood.

A noble capture! As much to me as if a stray, migratory mule had rambled into the wood and found me, and I him.