A Bitter Heritage: A Modern Story of Love and Adventure

by John Bloundelle-Burton

The other gave a laugh at this; it was indeed a laugh which was something between the bleating of a sheep and the (so-called) terrible war-whoop of a North-American Indian; then he replied: "Easy enough make tommy-goffy hate him. Take tommy into room where a man sleeps, wrapped up in a serape with his head out, then put him mouth to man's arm. Tommy do the rest. Gentleman want no breakfast."

"This is a nice country!" Julian thought. "I'm blessed if some of these chaps couldn't give the natives in India, or the dear old Chinese, a tip or two."

While as he so reflected, he also thought: "Easy enough, too, to put tommy-goff into a man's bed. Then that man wouldn't want any breakfast either. It's rather a good job that I found myself with an appetite this morning."

"Here he comes," the man, whose name was Paz, exclaimed, now suddenly referring to the alligator. "Hit him in the eye if you can, señor, or mouth. If he gets on shore we shall have to run." While, as he spoke, from out of the lagoon there rose the head of an enormous alligator, which seemed to have touched bottom since it was waddling ashore.

"I shall never hit him in the eye," Julian said, taking deliberate aim, however. "Gather up the traps, Paz, and get further away. I'll have a shot at him; and, then if he comes on land, I'll have another. Here goes."

But now, even as he prepared to fire, the beast gave him a chance, since, either from wishing to draw breath or from excitement at seeing a probable meal, it suddenly began opening and shutting its vast jaws as it came along, so that the hideous rows of yellow teeth, and the whity-pink roof of its mouth were plainly visible. And, at that moment, from the repeating rifle rang out a report, while, after the smoke had drifted away, it was easy to perceive that the monster had received a deadly wound. It was now spread-eagled out upon the rim of the lagoon's bank, its short, squat legs endeavouring to grip the sand, its eyes rolled up in its head and a stream of blood pouring from its open mouth.

"Though," said Julian, as now he approached close to the creature, and, taking steady aim, delivered another bullet into its eye which instantly gave it the coup de grace; "though I don't know why I should have killed the poor beast either. It couldn't have done me any harm." Then he thought, "I might as well have reserved the fire for something that threatened danger to me."

He had had enough sport for the day by now, having done that which every visitor to Central America is told he ought to do, namely, kill a jaguar and an alligator; wherefore, bidding Paz go on with the skinning of the former (which the man had already began earlier) since the spotted coat of this creature is worth preserving, he took a last look at the dead reptile lying half in and half out of the lagoon, and then made preparations for their return to Desolada. These preparations consisted of readjusting the saddle on the mustang, which he was still the temporary proprietor of, and in also saddling Paz's mule for him.

Then, when the operation of skinning was finished, they took their way back towards the coast.

Among other questions which Julian had asked this man during the morning with reference to the owner of the above abode, was one as to how long he had been present on the estate--a question which had remained unanswered owing to the killing of the jaguar having occurred ere it could be answered. But now--now that they were riding easily forward, the skin of the creature hanging like a horse-cloth over the tail of the half-breed's mule, he returned to it.