He swore, he stamped, he threatened the guariba.

That annoying animal only responded by a chuckling which was enough to put him beside himself.
And then Torres gave himself up to the chase.

He ran at top speed, entangling himself in the high undergrowth, among those thick brambles and interlacing creepers, across which the guariba passed like a steeplechaser.

Big roots hidden beneath the grass lay often in the way.
He stumbled over them and again started in pursuit.

At length, to his astonishment, he found himself shouting: "Come here! come here! you robber!" as if he could make him understand him.
His strength gave out, breath failed him, and he was obliged to stop.
"Confound it!" said he, "when I am after runaway slaves across the jungle they never give me such trouble as this! But I will have you, you wretched monkey! I will go, yes, I will go as far as my legs will carry me, and we shall see!" The guariba had remained motionless when he saw that the adventurer had ceased to pursue him.