The passengers in both small boats tossed coins out for the gamins to go after, and there, without fear or thought of the ever-present shark, the diving boys would go down in the waters to the bottom, but more often they would catch the coin even before it had time to reach the sandy bottom of the water. It was a most amazing thing to watch the speed and alertness of these children who seemed automatic in their instantaneous dive the moment the hand let go the coin.
In several instances the boys caught the coin in their hands just as it splashed into the surface of the water. When the girls had tired of watching this performance, the sailors were told to move on to land.
The hotel accommodations at Spanish Town were not to be compared to the Spring Hotel at Kingston; but they would have the yacht to use if matters were too, uncomfortable at the hotel in Spanish Town.
Soon after landing at Spanish Town the men heard of the excellent fishing to be had in the Rio Cobra River, hence they hoped to try a catch that day. But the ladies had also heard of the beauty of Bog Walk, and they clamored to go with the men. That necessitated a string of punts and men to pole, but expense was no drawback on this excursion. Moreover, Jamaican blacks work for a mere nothing in comparison with New York laborers.
Down the shores of the Rio Cobra went the flat punts and then drifted along the famous Bog Walk, the passengers listening to the songs of the tropical birds, and watching the verdure clad shores—clad in palms, tall cane, or heavy bamboo clumps. Both banks were carpeted with perfumed and gaudy flowers, and the breeze stirred lazily through the reeds and grasses along the edge of the water where one could see the clumsy tortoise, or swift water-rats moving about.
As she sat in the bow of one of the punts Polly called the attention of Eleanor to a great bulky tortoise. “Isn’t he ugly? Would you believe that such beautiful things as our tortoise-shell toilet articles could ever come from that filthy back?”
“It looks like a scum-covered bit of wreckage from the sea!” declared Eleanor.
“There goes one,—swimming down the stream!” called Nancy.
The girls looked and sure enough! A mud-covered projection floated past while the weeds which grow from the crevices in the back of the shell, trailed behind him like dank strips of string.
The men in the other punts saw the tortoise and this brought forth a suggestion that they enjoy a day’s turtle fishing while they tarried at Jamaica. Nothing loth, Jack urged Mr. Dalken to accept the offer.