These little incidents show the timidity or cowardice of the alligator.He never attacks man when his intended victim is on his guard; but he is cunning enough to know when this may be done with impunity-- of this we had proof at Caicara, a few days afterwards.The river had sunk to a very low point, so that the port and bathing-place of the village now lay at the foot of a long sloping bank, and a large cayman made his appearance in the shallow and muddy water.We were all obliged to be very careful in taking our bath; most of the people simply using a calabash, pouring the water over themselves while standing on the brink.Alarge trading canoe, belonging to a Barra merchant named Soares, arrived at this time, and the Indian crew, as usual, spent the first day or two after their coming into port in drunkenness and debauchery ashore.One of the men, during the greatest heat of the day, when almost everyone was enjoying his afternoon's nap, took it into his head while in a tipsy state to go down alone to bathe.He was seen only by the Juiz de Paz, a feeble old man who was lying in his hammock in the open verandah at the rear of his house on the top of the bank, and who shouted to the besotted Indian to beware of the alligator.Before he could repeat his warning, the man stumbled, and a pair of gaping jaws, appearing suddenly above the surface, seized him round the waist and drew him under the water.A cry of agony "Ai Jesus!" was the last sign made by the wretched victim.The village was aroused: the young men with praiseworthy readiness seized their harpoons and hurried down to the bank; but, of course it was too late, a winding track of blood on the surface of the water was all that could be seen.
They embarked, however, in montarias, determined upon vengeance;the monster was traced, and when, after a short lapse of time, he came up to breathe--one leg of the man sticking out from his jaws--was despatched with bitter curses.
The last of these minor excursions which I shall narrate, was made (again in company of Senor Cardozo, with the addition of his housekeeper Senora Felippa) in the season when all the population of the villages turns out to dig up turtle eggs, and revel on the praias.Placards were posted on the church doors at Ega, announcing that the excavation on Shimuni would commence on the 17th of October, and on Catua, sixty miles below Shimuni, on the 25th.We set out on the 16th, and passed on the road, in our well-manned igarite, a large number of people-- men, women, and children in canoes of all sizes-- wending their way as if to a great holiday gathering.By the morning of the 17th, some 400persons were assembled on the borders of the sand-bank; each family having erected a rude temporary shed of poles and palm leaves to protect themselves from the sun and rain.Large copper kettles to prepare the oil, and hundreds of red earthenware jars, were scattered about on the sand.
The excavation of the taboleiro, collecting the eggs and purifying the oil, occupied four days.All was done on a system established by the old Portuguese governors, probably more than a century ago.The commandante first took down the names of all the masters of households, with the number of persons each intended to employ in digging; he then exacted a payment of 140 reis (about fourpence) a head, towards defraying the expense of sentinels.The whole were then allowed to go to the taboleiro.
They arranged themselves around the circle, each person armed with a paddle to be used as a spade, and then all began simultaneously to dig on a signal being given--the roll of drums--by order of the commandante.It was an animating sight to behold the wide circle of rival diggers throwing up clouds of sand in their energetic labours, and working gradually towards the centre of the ring.A little rest was taken during the great heat of midday, and in the evening the eggs were carried to the huts in baskets.By the end of the second day, the taboleiro was exhausted; large mounds of eggs, some of them four to five feet in height, were then seen by the side of each hut, the produce of the labours of the family.
In the hurry of digging, some of the deeper nests are passed over; to find these out, the people go about provided with a long steel or wooden probe, the presence of the eggs being discoverable by the ease with which the spit enters the sand.
When no more eggs are to be found, the mashing process begins.
The egg, it may be mentioned, has a flexible or leathery shell;it is quite round, and somewhat larger than a hen's egg.The whole heap is thrown into an empty canoe and mashed with wooden prongs; but sometimes naked Indians and children jump into the mass and tread it down, besmearing themselves with yolk and making about as filthy a scene as can well be imagined.This being finished, water is poured into the canoe, and the fatty mess then left for a few hours to be heated by the sun, on which the oil separates and rises to the surface.The floating oil is afterwards skimmed off with long spoons, made by tying large mussel-shells to the end of rods, and purified over the fire in copper kettles.
