Torres, like him, was much in want of something to eat and drink, but it was impossible! His pouch was flat, his flask was empty.
However, instead of retracing his steps he directed them toward the tree, although the position taken up by the monkey was still more unfavorable for him.

He could not dream for one instant of climbing the ficus, which the thief would have quickly abandoned for another.
And all the time the miserable case rattled at his ear.
Then in his fury, in his folly, Torres apostrophized the guariba.

It would be impossible for us to tell the series of invectives in which he indulged.

Not only did he call him a half-breed, which is the greatest of insults in the mouth of a Brazilian of white descent, but _"curiboca"_--that is to say, half-breed negro and Indian, and of all the insults that one man can hurl at another in this equatorial latitude _"curiboca"_ is the cruelest.
But the monkey, who was only a humble quadruman, was simply amused at what would have revolted a representative of humanity.
Then Torres began to throw stones at him again, and bits of roots and everything he could get hold of that would do for a missile.

Had he the hope to seriously hurt the monkey?
No! he no longer knew what he was about.