234 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 
should. Then the largest stretched up as far as 
any manatee can ever leave the water, and caught 
and munched a drooping sprig of bamboo. 
Watching the great puffing lips, we again 
thought of walruses; but only a caterpillar could 
emulate that sideways mumbling—the strangest 
mouth of any mammal. But from behind, the 
rounded head, the shapely neck, the little baby. 
manatee held carefully in the curve of a flipper, 
made legends of mermaids seem very reason- 
able; and if I had been an early voyageur, I 
should assuredly have had stories to tell of mer- 
kiddies as well. As we watched, the young one 
played about, slowly and deliberately, without 
frisk or gambol, but determinedly, intently, as 
if realizing its duty to an abstract conception of 
youth and warm-blooded mammalness. 
The earth holds few breathing beings stranger 
than these manatees. Their life is a slow pro- 
gression through muddy water from one bed of 
lilies or reeds to another. Every few minutes, 
day and night, year after year, they come to the 
surface for a lungful of the air which they must 
have, but in which they cannot live. In place of 
hands they have flippers, which paddle them lei- 
surely along, which also serve to hold the infant 
