As usual, there was conversation,—partly to kill time, and partly to keep off the shadows that surrounded, and ever threatened to reduce them to despair. Trevannion took pains to keep it up, and make it as cheerful as the circumstances would permit, his object being less to satisfy himself than to provide gratification for his children. At times he even attempted to jest; but generally the conversation turned upon topics suggested by the scene, when the Indian, otherwise taciturn, was expected to do the talking. The open water became the subject on this particular occasion.
“It appears like a lake,” remarked the ex-miner. “I can see a line of trees or tree-tops all around it, with no signs of a break or channel.”
“It is one,” rejoined the tapuyo. “A real lagoa. Water in it at all seasons,—both echenté and vasanté,—only ’tis fallen now from the flood. There are no campos in this part of the country; and if it wasn’t a lagoa, there would be trees standing out of it. But I see a surer sign,—the piosocas.”
The speaker pointed to two dark objects at some distance off, that had not hitherto been observed by any of the party. On more careful scrutiny, they proved to be birds,—large, but of slender shape, and bearing some resemblance to a brace of cranes or curlews. They were of dark colour, rufous on the wings, with a green iridescence that glistened brightly under the beams of the setting sun.
They were near enough to enable the spectators to distinguish several peculiarities in their structure; among others a singular leathery appendage at the base of the beak, stout, spinous processes or “spurs” on the wing shoulders, very long, slender legs, and tarsi of immense length, radiating outward from their shank, like four pointed stare, spread horizontally on the surface of the water.
What struck the spectators, not only with surprise, but appeared unaccountable, was the fact that these birds seen upon the water were not seated as if swimming or afloat; but standing erect upon their long tarsi and toes, which apparently spread upon the surface, as if upon ice!
Stranger still, while they were being watched, both were seen to forsake their statue-like attitude, and move first toward each other, and then apart again, running to and fro as if upon a solid fooling! What could it all mean? Munday was asked for the explanation. Were they walking upon the water?
No. There was a water plant under their feet—a big lily, with a leaf several feet in diameter, that floated on the surface—sufficient to carry the weight of the biggest bird. That was what was supporting the piosocas.
On scanning the surface more carefully, they could distinguish the big lily, and its leaf with a turned-up edge resembling the rim of a Chinese gong, or a huge frying-pan. They became acquainted for the first time with that gigantic lily, which has been entitled “the Royal Victoria,” and the discoverer of which was knighted for his flattery.