334 THE TROPICAL WORLD. 



In order to observe the manner in which the Alligator seizes 

 its prey, Kichard Schomburgk frequently tied a bird or some 

 large fish to a piece of wood, and tlien turned it adrift upon the 

 stream. Scarcely had the Cayman perceived his victim than 

 he slowly and cautiously approached, without even rippling the 

 surface of the water, and then curving his back, hurled his prey, 

 by a stroke of his tail, into his wide-extended jaws. 



On the American streams, the stillness of the night is often 

 interrupted by the clacking of the Cayman's teeth, and the 

 lashing of his tail upon the waters. The singular and awful 

 sound of his voice can also readily be distinguished from that 

 of all the other beasts of the wilderness. It is like a suppressed 

 sigh, bursting forth all of a sudden, and so loud as to be heard 

 above a mile off. First, one emits this horrible noise ; then 

 another answers him ; and far and wide the repetition of the 

 sound proclaims that the Caymen are awake. When these 

 hideous creatures have once tasted the flesh of man, they are 

 said, like the cannibals of the Feejee Islands, to prefer it to that 

 of any animal. 



During Humboldt's stay at Angostura, a monstrous Cayman 

 seized an Indian by the leg while he was busy pushing his 

 boat ashore in a shallow lagune, and immediately dragged him 

 down into the deeper water. The cries of the unfortunate 

 victim soon attracted a large number of spectators, who witnessed 

 the astonishing courage with which he searched in his pocket 

 for a knife. Not finding a weapon, he then seized the reptile 

 by the head, and pressed his fingers into its eyes — a method 

 which saved Mungo Park's negro from a similar fate. In this 

 case, however, the monster did not let go his hold, but dis- 

 appearing under the surface with the Indian, came up again 

 with him as soon as he was drowned, and dragged the body to 

 a neighbouring island. 



' One Sunday evening,' says Waterton, ' some years ago, as I 

 was walking with Don Felipe de Yriarte, Grovernor of Angostura, 

 on the bank of the Orinoco — " Stop here a minute or two, Don 

 Carlos," said he to me, "while I recount a sad accident. 

 One fine evening, last year, as the people of Angostura were 

 sauntering up and down in the Alameda, I was within twenty 

 yards of this place, when I saw a large Cayman rush out of the 

 river, seize a man, and carry him down, before anybody had it 



