"I think," replied Dick, "that we may safely cook any of them, but, as to eating, why, I should only eat those that are nice in flavour."
"That's right. We'll be guided by that rule."
The boys fished from canoes which they hired or requisitioned from the Indian natives of the place. Clever these fellows are, and the manner in which they watch for and harpoon or even spear a huge "boto"--which looks like a long-snouted porpoise or "sea-pig"--astonished our heroes.
This fish is killed by whites only for its oil, but the Indians did not hesitate to cut huge fourteen-pound pieces from the back to take home for culinary purposes.
The "piraroocoo" is an immense fellow, and calculated to give good sport for a long summer day if you do not know how to handle him.
This "'roocoo", as some of the natives call him, likes to hang around in the back reaches of the river, and is often found ten feet in length.
He has the greatest objection in the world to being caught, and to being killed after being dragged on shore. Moreover, he has a neat and very expert way of lifting a canoe on his back for a few seconds, and letting it down bottom-upwards.
When he does so, you, the sportsman or piscador, find yourself floundering in the water. You probably gulp down about half a gallon of river water, but you thank your stars you learned to swim when a boy, and strike out for the bank. But five to one you have a race to run with an intelligent 'gator. If he is hungry, you may as well think about some short prayer to say; if he is not very ravenous, you may win just by a neck.
This last was an experience of Dick's one day; when a 'roocoo capsized his frail canoe and his Indian and he got spilt.
Luckily Roland was on the beach, and just as a huge 'gator came ploughing up behind poor Dick, with head and awful jaws above water, Roland took steady aim and fired. Then the creature turned on his back, and the river was dyed with blood.