“But mighty shy,” replied Hank, “mighty shy.”
“Yeah, they’re shy critters all right,” agreed Joe, “but they ain’t near as shy as the whiffle-pooffle. Why, them things is so bashful they don’t feel comfortable unless they’re hid in the bottom of a bottomless lake.”
“Are they a fish?” asked Lanky.
“Not exactly a fish,” explained Joe, “a sort of cross, I reckon, between an eel and a gila monster.”
“Are there any around here?” asked Lanky.
“Well, maybe,” replied Joe; “maybe a few. Still I doubt it. You see right around here the lakes go dry sometimes in the dry season, and the whiffle-pooffle wants water, and plenty of it, mucha agua. Still there may be a few. Out in the Roswell country, they used to be numerous. Also in Toyah Creek and Leon waterholes. I expect, though, they’re gittin’ scerce out in them parts now. All game is gittin’ scerce. Still, them critters is mighty hard to ketch, and it’s jest a few that knows how to do it. Mighty few in fact.”
“Do people fish for them, then?” asked Lanky.
“Some does,” replied Joe, “but it ain’t no use to fish for ’em with a regular fishin’ outfit. I’ve seen them rich dudes from the East come out with their fine tackle, rods and reels and all that fool finery, and fish and fish for ’em all day long and never git a nibble. Still they can be caught.”
“How does one catch them?” asked Lanky.
“So far as I know it was Pecos Bill that discovered the method. Durin’ Pecos Bill’s time there was a lot of people that didn’t believe there was any sech animal as the whiffle-pooffle livin’ in the bottom of the lakes. Bill said he knowed there was, and he’d show ’em. So he studied and studied, and finally he found a way to capture the critters. First he gits together a rowboat, a long post-hole auger, and a can of oil. Then he hunts up the funniest story-teller he can find and takes him along and sets out.