WANDBIilNGS IN SOUTH AMERICA. 273 



aware, that if I tried to force them against their will, they 

 would take off, and leave me and my presents unheeded, 

 and never return. 



Daddy Quashi was for applying to our guns, as usual, con- 

 sidering them our test and safest friends. I immediately 

 offered to knock him down for his cowardice, and he 

 shrunk hack, begging that I would be cautious, and not 

 get myself worried ; and apologizing for his own want of 

 resolution. My Indian was now in conversation with the 

 others, and they asked if I would allow them to shoot a 

 dozen arrows into him, and thus disable him. This would 

 have ruined all. I had come above three hundred miles 

 on purpose to get a cayman uninjured, and not to carry 

 back a mutilated specimen. I rejected their proposition 

 with firmness, and darted a disdainful eye upon the 

 Indians. 



Daddy Quashi was again beginning to remonstrate, 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 cay- 

 man's jaws. Here then we stood, in silence, like a calm 

 before a thunder-storm. " Hoc res summa loco. Scindituv 

 in contraria vulgus." 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 longj' 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 



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