On one particular spot they found a space, of about seventy yards in diameter completely covered with the upper and under shells of turtles. These had evidently been cut asunder violently with hatchets, and reddish-brown furrows in the sands told where streams of blood had flowed during the massacre.
“What wanton slaughter!” exclaimed Lawrence, as he and his friends stood looking at the scene.
“And it is not long since it was done,” said Pedro, “for the flesh—at least what’s left of it—is still fresh.”
“Ugh, you brutes!” exclaimed Quashy, referring to a number of urubu vultures which stood on the shells, all more or less gorged, some still tearing sleepily at the meat, others standing in apoplectic apathy, quite unable to fly.
They counted upwards of three hundred dead turtles, and this carnage, it was afterwards ascertained, had been the work of only a dozen or so of Indians—not for food, but for the sake of the fine yellow fat covering the intestines, which formed an article of commerce at the time between the red men and the white.
That night after supper time the party busied themselves in making mosquito-curtains out of a small quantity of green muslin obtained from Spotted Tiger’s father-in-law, who had received it from the missionaries. The supply being quite insufficient to make curtains for them all, Quashy had set his fertile brain to work and devised a species of net which, having never been seen in that country before, deserves special notice. It may serve as a hint to other mortals similarly situated and tormented.
“You mus’ know,” remarked Quashy to his friends, who watched him while he fabricated the first of these curtains, “dat my gran’fadder was a injineer, an’ some ob his geenus comed down to me. Dat’s why I’s so clebber wid my hands. Has you got dem hoops tied, massa?”
“All right, Quashy, I’m just finishing the last one. There—are these the right sizes?”
“Das right, massa. Biggest two one futt six in dameter; oder two leetle ones, one futt. Now, you looks here, ladies an’ gen’lemen. See, I’s made a bag ob dis muzzlin ’bout two futt six long an’ ’bout two futt wide. Well, one end ob de bag is close up—as you see. ’Tother end am open—as you b’hold. Vwalla! as de Frenchman says. Now, I puts into de closed end one small hoop—so. Den de two large hoops—so—’bout six inches apart. Den de leetle hoop—so. Which makes my bag into what you may call a gauze-barrel, wid de hoops inside ’stead ob outside. Nixt, I puts it ober my head, lets de bottom hoop rest on my shoulders, shoves de slack ob de veil—I calls it a veil, not a curtin,—down my neck under my poncho, so’s nuffin can git inside, an’ dere you are. No skeeters git at me now!”
“But, Quash,” said Lawrence, who had watched the making of this ingenious device, as well as lent assistance, “there are mosquitoes inside it even now; and with such swarms as are about us, how will you keep them out while putting the thing on.”