Guapo was in no humour for enjoying the conversation of that evening. The crocodile had “choused” him out of his favourite supper. The monkey was literally knocked to “smithereens,” and the pieces that still adhered together were daubed all over with mud. It wasn't fit meat—even for an Indian—and Guapo had to content himself with a dried plantain and a stew of jerked horse-flesh.

Of course Don Pablo and the rest examined with curiosity the great hole in the mud that had contained the crocodile. There it had lain during months of the dry season in a state of torpidity, and would, no doubt, have remained still longer, but that it was aroused by the big fire that Guapo had built over it. The irritation produced by this had been the cause of its sudden resurrection, for the crocodiles that thus bury themselves usually come out after the beginning of the heavy rains.

It was a true long-snouted crocodile, as Don Pablo had observed in the short opportunity he had had; and not an alligator—for it must be here remarked, that the true crocodile is found in many parts of Spanish America, and also in many of the West Indian Islands. For a long time it was believed that only alligators existed in America, and that the crocodiles were confined to the Eastern Continent. It is now known that at least one species of crocodile is an American animal, and several distinct species of alligators are inhabitants of the New World.

There is the alligator of the Mississippi—which is the “caÏman” or “cayman” of the Spanish Americans; there is the spectacled alligator, a southern species, so called from a pair of rings around its eyes having a resemblance to spectacles; and there is a still smaller species called the “bava,” which is found in Lake Valencia, and in many South American rivers. The last kind is much hunted by the Indians, who, although they eat parts of all these creatures, are fonder of the flesh of the bava than of any of the others.

They had not intended to keep watch this night, as the naked promontory seemed to be a safe place to sleep upon; but now, after their adventure with the crocodile, they changed their minds, and they resolved to mount guard as before. The monster might easily crawl out of the water again, and, judging from the size of his mouth, it is not improbable to suppose that he might have swallowed one of the smaller individuals of the party at a single effort. Lest he might return to use either his teeth or his tail, the watch was set as on other nights—Leon taking the first turn, Guapo the second, and Don Pablo sitting it out till daybreak. The night passed through, however, without any unusual disturbance; and although an occasional plunge was heard in the water close by, no more was seen of the crocodile until morning.

I have said until morning—for he was seen then. Yes! indeed. That beauty was not going to let them off without giving them another peep at him—not he.

They were awake and up before day; and as the fire had been kept burning all night, they had now nothing more to do than rake up the embers, and hang on the coffee-kettle. It was not yet bright day when breakfast was already cooked, and they sat down to eat it.

While engaged in this operation, they noticed a string of flamingoes on the muddy promontory, at the end where it joined the land. They were ranged in line, like soldiers, some of them balanced on one long thin leg, as these birds do. They appeared in the grey light to be unusually tall; but when it became a little clearer, our travellers could perceive that they were not upon the ground, but standing upon an old log. This, of course, made them look taller. They were just in the very track by which Guapo and Leon had passed to get the wood the evening before. Now, neither Guapo nor Leon remembered any log. They were certain there was none there, else they would have cut it up for firewood, that was a sure thing; and it was very mysterious who could have rolled a log there during the night!

While discussing this point it became clearer; and, to the astonishment of all, what they had taken to be an old log turned out to be nothing else than their old friend the crocodile! I have said to the astonishment of all—that is not strictly correct. Guapo saw nothing to astonish him in that sight. He had witnessed a similar one many a time, and so does every one who travels either on the Amazon or the Orinoco.

These flamingoes were perfectly safe, so far as the crocodile was concerned, and they knew it. As long as they kept out of the reach of his jaws and tail, he could not hurt them. Although he could bend himself to either side, so as to “kiss” the tip of his own tail, he could not reach any part of his back, exert himself as he might. This the flamingoes and other birds well know, and these creatures being fond of a place to perch upon, often avail themselves of the long serrated back of the crocodile, or the caÏman.

As the day became brighter the flamingoes sat still—not appearing to be alarmed by the movements at the camp, which was about an hundred yards distant from their perch. It was likely they had never been frightened by the hunter, for these birds in districts where they are hunted are exceedingly shy. All at once, however, as if by a given signal, the whole flock rose together, and flew off with loud screams. The crocodile, too, was seen to move, but it was not this which had scared them off. It was after they had gone that he had stirred himself; and even, had it not been so, they would not have regarded his movements, as these birds are often seen perched upon a crawling crocodile!

No. Something else had affrighted them, and that was a noise in the bushes beyond, which was now distinctly heard at the camp. There was a rustling of leaves and a crackling of branches, as if more than one creature made the noise. So it appeared, for the next moment nearly a score of animals dashed out of the bushes, and ran on towards the water.

These creatures were odd enough to fix the attention of the party at the camp. They were about the size of small hogs—very much of the same build—and covered with a thin sandy bristly hair, just like some hogs are. They were not “pig-headed,” however. Their heads were exactly like those of the grey rabbit, and instead of hoofs they were toed and clawed. This gave them altogether a lighter appearance than hogs, and yet they did not run as fast, although when first noticed they appeared to be doing their best.

Our travellers knew them at once, for they were animals that are common upon the rivers in all the warm parts of South America. They were “capivaras,” or “chiguires,” as they are also called. These creatures are peculiar to the American continent. They are, in fact, “guinea-pigs” on a large scale, and bear the greatest resemblance to those well-known animals, except in size and colour; for the capivaras are of uniform sandy brown.

They are of the same genus as the guinea-pigs, though the systematizers have put them into a separate one, and have also made a third genus to suit another animal of very similar shape and habits. This is the “moco,” which is between the guinea-pig and capivara in size, and of a greyish olive colour. All three are natives of South America, and in their wild state are found only there, though from the absurd name “guinea-pig,” you may be led to think that this little creature came originally from Africa.

The three are all “rodent” animals, and the capivara is the largest “rodent” that is known. It, moreover, is amphibious, quite as much so as the tapir, and is found only near the banks of rivers. It is more at home in the water than on dry land, or perhaps it has more numerous enemies on land; though, poor, persecuted creature! it is not without some in either element, as will be seen by what follows.

The drove of the capivaras counted nearly a score, and they were making for the water as fast as their legs could carry them. The crocodile lay directly across their path, but their black eyes, large and prominent, seemed to be occupied with something behind; and they had run up almost against the body of the reptile before they saw it. Uttering a sort of squeak they made a half-pause. Some sprang up and leaped over—others attempted to go round. All succeeded except one; but the crocodile, on seeing their approach—no doubt it was for this he had been in wait all the morning—had thrown himself into the form of a half-moon; and as they passed he let fly at them. His powerful tail came “flap” against the nearest, and it was pitched several yards, where, after a kick or two, it lay upon its side as dead as a herring, a door-nail, or even Julius CÆsar—take your choice.

Top