“I say that there is an alligator caught in the rack,” said Leon, and sticking the handle of the net into the water again he continued: “Do you hear that sound? That is not sand, it is hard skin, the back of the alligator. Do you see how he wiggles the bamboo pickets in the rack? He is struggling hard but he cannot do anything. Wait. He is a large fellow; his body measures a palm or more in width.”
“What shall be done?” was the question.
“Catch him,” said one.
“Jesús! And who will catch him?”
Nobody offered to dive down to the bottom of the rack. The water was very deep.
“We ought to tie him to our banca and drag him along in triumph,” said Sinang. “The idea of his eating the fish which we ought to have!”
“I have never seen to this day a live alligator,” said Maria Clara.
The pilot rose to his feet, took a long rope and went up cautiously to the platform on the top of the rack. Leon gave up his position to him.
With the exception of Maria Clara, none up till now had paid any attention to him. Now every one was admiring his fine stature.
To the great surprise of all and in spite of all their cries, the pilot leaped into the enclosure.