appearance in the shallow and muddy water. We were all obliged to be very careful in taking our bath; most of the people simply using a calabash, pouring the water over themselves whilst standing on the brink. A large trading canoe, belonging to a Barra merchant named Soares, arrived at this time, and the Indian crew, as usual, spent the first day or two after their coming in port, in drunkenness and debauchery ashore. One of the men, during the greatest heat of the day when almost every one was enjoying his afternoon's nap, took it into his head whilst in a tipsy state to go down alone to bathe. He was seen only by the Juiz de Paz, a feeble old man who was lying in his hammock, in the open verandah at the rear of his house on the top of the bank, and who shouted to the besotted Indian to beware of the alligator. Before he could repeat his warning, the man stumbled, and a pair of gaping jaws, appearing suddenly above the surface, seized him round the waist and drew him under the water. A cry of agony "Ai Jesús!" was the last sign made by the wretched victim. The village was aroused: the young men with praiseworthy readiness seized their harpoons and hurried down to the bank; but of course it was too late, a winding track of blood on the surface of the water, was all that could be seen. They embarked, however, in montarias, determined on vengeance: the monster was traced, and when, after a short lapse of time, he came up to breathe—one leg of the man sticking out from his jaws—was dispatched with bitter curses.
The last of these minor excursions which I shall
