Limekiller!

Captain Sneed said, “Speaking of Pike. All this land, all of it, far as the eye can reach, is part of the Estate of the Late Leopold Albert Edward Pike, you know, of fame and story and, for the last five or six years, since he died, of interminable litigation. He made a great deal of money, out of all these precious hardwoods, and he put it all back into land — Did I know him? Of course I knew him! That is,” he cleared his throat, “as well as anyone knew him. Odd chap in a multitude of ways. Damnably odd. ”

Of course that was not the end of the subject.

“Mr. Pike, he reetch. But he no di trust bonks. He say, bonks di go bust, mon. People say he’m, now-ah-days, bonks ahl insure. Mr. Pike, he di say, Suh-pose zzzsure company di go bust, too? ¿Ai, como no? Ahn he di say ah good word. He di say, ‘Who shall guard de guards demselves?’ ”

Some one of the boatmen, who had theretofore said nothing, but silently plied his paddle, now spoke. “Dey say. Meester Pike. dey say, he deal. ” And his voice dropped low on this last word. Something went through all the boatmen at that. It was not exactly a shudder. But it was there.

Sneed cleared his throat again as though he were going to cry Stuff! or Piffle! Though what he said was, “Hm, I wouldn’t go that far. He was pagan enough not to believe in our Devil, let alone try to deal with him. He did, well, he did, you know, study things better left unstudied. my opinion. Indian legends of a certain sort, things like that. Called it ‘the Old Wisdom.’. ”

Limekiller found his tongue. “Was he an Englishman?”

The matter was considered; heads were shaken. “He mosely Blanco. He lee bit Indio. And he hahv some lee bit Block generation in he’m too.”

Sneed said, “His coloring was what they call in the Islands, bright. Light, in other words, you would say. Though color makes no difference here. Never did."

Marin added, “What dev cahl Light, here we cahl Clear.” He gestured towards shore, said, “limestone." Much of the bankside was composed of that one same sort of rock, grey-white and in great masses, with many holes and caves: limestone was susceptible to such water-caused decay. In Yucatan the water had corroded deep pits in it, immense deep wells and pools.

“Now, up ahead,” said Captain Sneed, “towards the right bank of the river is a sort of cove called Crocodile Pool — No No, ladies, no need for alarm. Just stay in the boat. And almost directly opposite the cove, is what’s called the Garobo Church; you’ll see why.”

Often in the savannahs they saw the white egrets with the orange bills, usually ashore amidst the cattle. Another kind of egret seemed to prefer the sand and gravel bars and the stumps or sawyers in midstream, and these were a distinctive shade of blue mixed with green, though lighter than the blue-green of the iguanas. Something like a blackbird took its perch and uttered a variety of long, sweet notes and calls.

Swallows skimmed and brighter colored birds darted and drank. And like great sentinels in livery, the great buff garobo- dragons peered down from the tall trees and the tall stones. Clouds of lemon-yellow and butter-yellow butterflies floated round the wild star-apples. Here, the stones lay in layers, like brickwork; there, the layers were warped and buckled, signs — perhaps — of some ancient strain or quake. But mostly, mostly, the stone rose and loomed and hung in bulbous worm-eaten masses. And over them, among them, behind them and between them, the tall cotton trees, the green-leaved cedars, the white-trunked Santa Maria, and the giant wild fig.

“Now, as to how you catch the crocodile,” Captain Sneed answered an unasked question; “simple: one man stays in the dory and paddles her in a small circle, one or two men hold the rope — “

„— rope tie around odder mahn belly,” Marin said.

“ Quite so. And that chap dives. Machete in his teeth. And he ties up the croc and then he tugs. And then they haul them up, you see. Simple.”

Felix said, “Not that simple!”

May said, “Seems simple enough to me. Long as you’ve got a sound set of teeth.”

Limekiller knew what was coming next. He had been here before. That was a mistake about his never having been here before, of course he had been here; never mind, Right Branch, Left Branch; or how else could he know? Down the steepy bluff a branch came falling with a crash of its Crack! falling with it; and the monstrous garobo hit the water with a tremendous sound and spray. It went down and it did not come up and it did not come up.

And then, distant but clear: the echo. And another echo. And — but that was too many echoes. Jack, who had been looking back, now turned. Spray was still flying up, falling down. Ahead: one after another the garobo were falling into the river. And then several at once, together. And then —

“Call that, ‘The Garobo Church,’ ” said Captain Sneed.