CHAPTER XXXIV
THE OGATA, OR BURROW CROCODILE
A big ogata, over seven feet long, was looking one day from the dark opening of his burrow built on a declivity of a hill by a large river, watching for prey. The creature was ugly enough, and looked somewhat like his cousin the crocodile, and he is just as bad if not worse. The ogata is a night animal.
From his dark hole, his hungry eyes peered through the intense darkness; but no prey was in sight. “I have had a hard life lately,” he said; “I have been hungry, for prey is scarce, and all the animals of the forest are now afraid of this place, for I have devoured many, and those who have escaped from my powerful jaws have told the others to beware of this neighborhood.”
Then he opened his big mouth, and thought of the many animals that had been held last in his jaws, and of his many delicious meals, and added: “The good meals of the past do not help the future; indeed, when we are hungry, the recollection of them only serves to give us a greater appetite. Here I starve now, and I must move away to some other quarters; otherwise I shall die of hunger.”
His big body gradually issued from his hole, and, through the darkness, which to him was like sunshine, he looked up and down the river, for he had not made up his mind yet which way to go and explore. After much thought, he decided to go up-stream. He walked or swam along the wooded shores of the river, and after a while came to the declivity of another hill by the water, where he stopped, and looking around said: “Here is a good place for me to make my burrow. The rain when it runs down will not fill my home. Surely animals will come here to drink or to cross the river.” Whereupon he chuckled as the ogata does at the prospect of having a good meal.
He immediately set at work, and with his foreclaws dug a round hole, just big enough for him to go through. After a while only half of his body was to be seen. The earth which he excavated was thrown out by his forefeet, armed with heavy claws, and heaped up behind him. It was hard work, for he had met with roots of trees, and these had to be cut through and taken out of the way. If he had been a human being, he would have been worn out. His big claws did splendid work. After a while only his tail was to be seen, his hind-legs being hidden in the burrow and helping to throw out the dirt the forelegs dug. The burrow went deep into the declivity of the hill, and when finished had two entrances,—one to go in, the other to go out.
It was nearly daylight when he had finished his burrow. So he went in to spend the day, and had a good sleep. When night came, he went to the other opening to watch for prey. His ugly head and wicked, treacherous eyes were listening and watching; but that night no animal came to the river to drink. He felt terribly hungry and said to himself: “Strange it is if I have built my burrow in a place where no animal comes to drink. It is not often that I am mistaken in my selection of a home.”
As he watched he heard a rippling on the water, and, looking in the direction from which the sound came, saw up the river a gazelle swimming toward the other shore, which she had nearly reached. He immediately left his burrow, and in an instant was swimming, against the current, as fast as he could toward the beautiful creature, saying to himself, “Now I shall soon have a meal. It is about time, for I am starving.”
He was near his prey in an incredibly short time, but if she succeeded in landing, she would escape him by running at once into the forest, and his meal, upon which he was counting so much, would vanish.
The poor gazelle found that the fierce ogata was after her; she swam as fast as she could, and landed, with her enemy within a few feet of her. In another moment his jaws would have closed upon her. But she bounded into the forest, and soon was out of sight.