“What did you fire at?” asked Swinton, who now joined them.
“An alligator, and he is dead. I am afraid that he won’t be very good eating,” replied the Major.
“That’s not an alligator, Major,” said Swinton, “and it is very good eating. It is a large lizard of the iguana species, which is found about these rivers; it is amphibious, but perfectly harmless, subsisting upon vegetables and insects. I tell you it is a great delicacy, ugly as it looks. It is quite dead, so let us drag it out of the water, and send it up to Mahomed by Omrah.”
The animal, which was about four feet long, was dragged out of the water by the tail, and Omrah took it to the camp.
“Well, I really thought it was a small alligator,” said the Major; “but now I perceive my mistake. What a variety of lizards there appears to be in this country.”
“A great many, from the chameleon upwards,” replied Swinton. “By the bye, there is one which is said to be very venomous. I have heard many well-authenticated stories of the bite being not only very dangerous, but in some instances fatal. I have specimens of the animal in my collection. It is called here the geitje.”
“Well, it is rather remarkable, but we have in India a small lizard, called the gecko by the natives, which is said to be equally venomous. I presume it must be the same animal, and it is singular that the names should vary so little. I have never seen an instance of its poisonous powers, but I have seen a whole company of sepoys run out of their quarters because they have heard the animal make its usual cry in the thatch of the building; they say that it drops down upon people from the roof.”
“Probably the same animal; and a strong corroboration that the report of its being venomous is with good foundation.”
“And yet if we were to make the assertion in England, we should in all probability not be believed.”
“Not by many, I grant—not by those who only know a little; but by those who are well informed, you probably would be. The fact is from a too ready credulity, we have now turned to almost a total scepticism, unless we have ocular demonstration. In the times of Marco Polo, Sir John Mandeville, and others,—say in the fifteenth century, when there were but few travellers and but little education, a traveller might assert almost anything, and gain credence; latterly a traveller hardly dare assert anything. Le Vaillant and Bruce, who travelled in the South and North of Africa, were both stigmatised as liars, when they published their accounts of what they had seen, and yet every tittle has since been proved to be correct. However, as people now are better informed, they do not reject so positively; for they have certain rules to guide them between the possible and the impossible.”