“Good,” said Munday, softly. “I guess what it’s going after up there. Don’t you see something lying along the water?”
“Yes; but it’s some sort av wather-grass.”
“That’s just it.”
“An’ what would it want wid the grass? Yez don’t mane to till me it ates grass?”
“Eats nothing else, and this is just the sort it feeds on. Very like that’s its pasturing place. So much the better if it is, because it will stay there till morning, and give me a chance to kill it.”
“But why can’t yez kill it now?” said Tom.
“For want of a proper weapon. My knife is of no use. The juarouá is too cunning to let one come so near. If it come back in the morning, I will take care to be ready for it. From it we can get meat enough for a long voyage. See, it has begun to browse!”
Sure enough it had, just as the Indian said, commenced pasturing upon the long blades of grass that spread horizontally over the surface; and just as a cow gathers the meadow sward into her huge mouth, at intervals protruding her tongue to secure it, so did the great water cow of the Amazon spread her broad lips and extend her rough tongue to take in the floating herbage of the Gapo.