WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 243 



come above three hundred miles on purpose to 

 get a cayman uninjured, and not to carry back 

 a mutilated specimen. I rejected their proposi- 

 tion with firmness, and darted a disdainful eye 

 upon the Indians. 



Daddy Quashi was again beginning to remon- 

 strate, and I chased him on the sand-bank for a 

 quarter of a mile. He told me afterwards, he 

 thought he should have dropped down dead with 

 fright, for he was firmly persuaded, if I had 

 caught him, I should have bundled him into the 

 cayman's jaws. Here then we stood, in silence, 

 like a calm before a thunder-storm. "Hoc res 

 summa loco. Scinditur in contraria \nilgus." 

 They wanted to kill him, and I wanted to take 

 him alive. 



I now walked up and down the sand, revolving 

 a dozen projects in my head. The canoe was at a 

 considerable distance, and I ordered the people 

 to bring it round to the place where we were. The 

 mast was eight feet long, and not much thicker 

 than my wrist. I took it out of the canoe, and 

 wrapped the sail round the end of it. Now it 

 appeared clear to me that if I went down upon 

 one knee, and held the mast in the same position 

 as the soldier holds his bayonet when rushing to 

 the charge, I could force it down the cayman's 

 throat, should he come open-mouthed at me. 

 When this was told to the Indians, they bright- 

 ened up, and said they would help me to pull him 

 out of the river. 



** Brave squad!" said I to myself, " 'Audax 

 omnia perpeti,' now that you have got me betwixt 

 yourselves and danger." I then mustered all 



