270 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA. 



longer, we left it for the night, and returned to our 

 hammocks. 



Ere I fell asleep, a reflection or two broke in upon rne. 

 I considered, that as far as the judgment of civilized man 

 went, everything had been procured and done to ensure 

 success. We had hooks, and lines, and baits, and patience ; 

 we had spent nights in watching, had seen the cayman 

 come and take the bait, and after our expectations had 

 been wound up to the highest pitch, all ended in disap- 

 pointment. Probably this poor wild man of the woods 

 would succeed by means of a very simple process ; and 

 thus prove to his more civilized brother that, notwith- 

 standing books and schools, there is a vast deal of know- 

 ledge to be picked up at every step, whichever way we 

 turn ourselves. 



In the morning, as usual, we found the bait gone from 

 the shark-hook. The Indians went into the forest to 

 hunt, and we took the canoe to shoot fish and get another 

 supply of turtles' eggs, which we found in great abundance 

 on this large sand-bank. 



We went to the little shallow creek, and shot some 

 young caymen, about two feet long. It was astonishing 

 to see what spite and rage these little things showed when 

 the arrow struck them ; they turned round and bit it, and 

 snapped at us when we went into the water to take them 

 up. Daddy Quashi boiled one of them for his dinner, and 

 found it very sweet and tender. I do not see why it 

 should not be as good as frog or veal. 



The day was now declining apace, and the Indian had 

 made his instrument to take the cayman. It was very 

 simple. There were four pieces of tough hard wood, a foot 

 long, and about as thick as your little finger, and barbed 

 at both ends; they were tied round the end of the rope, 

 in such a manner, that if you conceive the rope to be an 



