These creatures were odd enough to fix the attention of the party at the camp. They were about the size of small hogs—very much of the same build—and covered with a thin sandy bristly hair, just like some hogs are. They were not “pigheaded,” however. Their heads were exactly like those of the grey rabbit, and instead of hoofs they were toed and clawed. This gave them altogether a lighter appearance than hogs, and yet they did not run as fast, although when first noticed they appeared to be doing their best.
Our travellers knew them at once, for they were animals that are common upon the rivers in all the warm parts of South America. They were “capivaras,” or “chiguires,” as they are also called. These creatures are peculiar to the American continent. They are, in fact, “guinea-pigs” on a large scale, and bear the greatest resemblance to those well-known animals, except in size and colour; for the capivaras are of a uniform sandy brown. They are of the same genus as the guinea-pigs, though the systematisers have put them into a separate one, and have also made a third genus to suit another animal of very similar shape and habits. This is the “moco,” which is between the guinea-pig and capivara in size, and of a greyish olive colour. All three are natives of South America, and in their wild state are found only there, though from the absurd name “guinea-pig,” you may be led to think that this little creature came originally from Africa.
The three are all “rodent” animals, and the capivara is the largest “rodent” that is known. It, moreover, is amphibious, quite as much so as the tapir, and it is found only near the banks of rivers. It is more at home in the water than on dry land, or perhaps it has more numerous enemies on land; though, poor, persecuted creature! it is not without some in either element, as will be seen by what follows.
The drove of capivaras counted nearly a score, and they were making for the water as fast as their legs could carry them. The crocodile lay directly across their path, but their black eyes, large and prominent, seemed to be occupied with something behind; and they had run up almost against the body of the reptile before they saw it. Uttering a sort of squeak they made a half-pause. Some sprang up and leaped over—others attempted to go round. All succeeded except one; but the crocodile, on seeing their approach—no doubt it was for this he had been in wait all the morning—had thrown himself into the form of a half-moon; and as they passed he let fly at them. His powerful tail came “flap” against the nearest, and it was pitched several yards, where, after a kick or two, it lay upon its side as dead as a herring, a door-nail, or even Julius Caesar—take your choice.
Chapter Thirty Nine.
Fight of the Jaguar and Crocodile.
The chiguires that escaped past the crocodile, the next instant plunged into the river, and disappeared under the water. They would come to the surface for breath in ten or twelve minutes, but at such a distance off that they needed no longer fear pursuit from the same enemy.
Our travellers took no notice of them from the moment they were fairly out of the bushes. They saw that the crocodile had knocked one of them over; but the eyes of Guapo and Don Pablo were directed upon a different place—the point at which the chiguires had sallied out of the underwood. These knew that the animals had not issued forth in their natural way, as if they were going to the stream to drink, or in search of food. No—quite different. Their bristles were erect—they were excited—they were terrified—beyond a doubt they were pursued!