Loaded with nuts, plantains, and a species of anona called soursop, we returned to the boat, where the water, with which the green cocoa-nuts are filled, tempered with a little Jamaica rum, para á matar los animalicos, “to kill the animalculæ,” as the Spanish say, made a cooling and refreshing beverage.
MANGROVE SWAMP.
In the afternoon we again embarked, and before dark reached the mouth of the Wawashaan, which looked like a narrow arm of the lagoon, but which, we found, when we entered, had considerable current, rendering necessary a brisk use of our paddles. The banks near the lagoon, were low, and the ground back of them apparently swampy, and densely covered with mangrove trees. This tree is universal on the Mosquito coast, lining the shores of the lagoons and rivers, as high up as the salt water reaches. It is unlike any other tree in the world. Peculiar to lands overflowed by the tides, its trunk starts at a height of from four to eight feet from the ground, supported by a radiating series of smooth, reddish-brown roots, for all the world like the prongs of an inverted candelabrum. These roots interlock with each other in such a manner that it is utterly impossible to penetrate between them, except by laboriously cutting one’s way. And even then an active man would hardly be able to advance twenty feet in a day. The trunk is generally tall and straight, the branches numerous, but not long, and the leaves large and thick; on the upper surface of a dark, glistening, unfading green, while below, of the downy, whitish tint of the poplar-leaf. Lining the shore in dense masses, the play of light on the leaves, as they are turned upward by the wind, has the glad, billowy effect of a field of waving grain. The timber of the mangrove is sodden and heavy, and of no great utility; but its bark is astringent, and excellent for tanning. Its manner of propagation is remarkable. The seed consists of a long bean-like stem, about the length and shape of a dipped candle, but thinner. It hangs from the upper limbs in thousands, and, when perfect, drops, point downward, erect in the mud, where it speedily takes root, and shoots up to tangle still more the already tangled mangrove-swamp. Myriads of small oysters, called the mangrove-oysters, cling to the roots, among which active little crabs find shelter from the pursuit of their hereditary enemies, the long-legged and sharp-billed cranes, who have a prodigious hankering after tender and infantile shell-fish.
The Mosquito settlement is some miles up the river, and we were unable to reach it before dark; so, on arriving at a spot where the ground became higher, and an open space appeared on the bank, we came to a halt for the night. We had this time no fish for supper, but, instead, a couple of quams, a species of small turkey, which is not a handsome bird, but, nevertheless, delicate food. Many of these flew down to the shore, as night came on, selecting the tops of the highest, overhanging trees for their roosting-places, and offering fine marks for my faithful double-barreled gun.
The mosquitoes proving rather troublesome at the edge of the water, I abandoned the canoe, and spreading my blanket on the most elevated portion of the bank, near the fire, was soon asleep. Before midnight, however, I was roused by the sensation of innumerable objects, with sharp claws and cold bodies, crawling over me. I leaped up in alarm, and hastily shook off the invaders. I heard a crackling, rustling noise, as of rain on dry leaves, all around me, and by the dim light I saw that the ground was alive with crawling things, moving in an unbroken column toward the river. I felt them in the pockets of my coat, and hanging to my skirts. My nocturnal interview with the turtles at “El Roncador” recurred to me, and Coleridge’s ghastly lines—
——“The very sea did rot—
Oh Christ, that this should be!—
And slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea!”