Polly's Southern Cruise by Lillian Elizabeth Roy
CHAPTER X--SPORTS AT JAMAICA
That afternoon after luncheon Mr. Dalken proposed a trip to SpanishTown. He suggested the yacht for the conveyance and an anchorage at thequay over night in order to allow themselves a full day at thatbeautiful settlement. As nothing more exciting had been heard of, theyounger members of the party agreed to the plan.
Late in the afternoon, therefore, the White Crest dropped anchor at thatpart of the Rio Cobra River where Spanish Town is located. The touristsremained on board the yacht that night, but in the early morning theystarted to go ashore in the two small launches belonging to the yacht.
As the boats neared the quay, the eager, waiting urchins on the wharfstood ready to dive in the waters for the coin they expected from thewhite visitors. Nor were they disappointed.
The passengers in both small boats tossed coins out for the gamins to goafter, and there, without fear or thought of the ever-present shark, thediving boys would go down in the waters to the bottom, but more oftenthey would catch the coin even before it had time to reach the sandybottom of the water. It was a most amazing thing to watch the speed andalertness of these children who seemed automatic in their instantaneousdive the moment the hand let go the coin.
In several instances the boys caught the coin in their hands just as itsplashed into the surface of the water. When the girls had tired ofwatching this performance, the sailors were told to move on to land.
The hotel accommodations at Spanish Town were not to be compared to theSpring Hotel at Kingston; but they would have the yacht to use ifmatters were too, uncomfortable at the hotel in Spanish Town.
Soon after landing at Spanish Town the men heard of the excellentfishing to be had in the Rio Cobra River, hence they hoped to try acatch that day. But the ladies had also heard of the beauty of Bog Walk,and they clamored to go with the men. That necessitated a string ofpunts and men to pole, but expense was no drawback on this excursion.Moreover, Jamaican blacks work for a mere nothing in comparison with NewYork laborers.
Down the shores of the Rio Cobra went the flat punts and then driftedalong the famous Bog Walk, the passengers listening to the songs of thetropical birds, and watching the verdure clad shores--clad in palms, tallcane, or heavy bamboo clumps. Both banks were carpeted with perfumed andgaudy flowers, and the breeze stirred lazily through the reeds andgrasses along the edge of the water where one could see the clumsytortoise, or swift water-rats moving about.
As she sat in the bow of one of the punts Polly called the attention ofEleanor to a great bulky tortoise. "Isn't he ugly? Would you believethat such beautiful things as our tortoise-shell toilet articles couldever come from that filthy back?"
"It looks like a scum-covered bit of wreckage from the sea!" declaredEleanor.
"There goes one,--swimming down the stream!" called Nancy.
The girls looked and sure enough! A mud-covered projection floated pastwhile the weeds which grow from the crevices in the back of the shell,trailed behind him like dank strips of string.
The men in the other punts saw the tortoise and this brought forth asuggestion that they enjoy a day's turtle fishing while they tarried atJamaica. Nothing loth, Jack urged Mr. Dalken to accept the offer.
Hunting the turtle is a varied sport, according to the energy andsportsmanship of the hunter. The easiest way is that pursued by men whowish to use the least power and run the least risk of danger tothemselves. These men catch the female just after she has deposited hereggs on a muddy river bank. They turn her over on her back and renderher helpless until they come to drag her to the pens where they keepthem until exported.
Other hunters spear the turtles in the open sea, and this is really themost daring of the hunt, as often a turtle will suddenly make a swiftrun to the open sea and drag a harpoon in its track.
But the method mostly followed is that of snaring the creatures in netswhen they rise to the surface for breath. The men of Jamaica areexperienced turtle hunters, and they follow the net method.
Early at dawn, the following morning, the Captain called Mr. Dalken andsaid the turtle fishermen were alongside waiting for them to go out tofish. No need of calling twice! Jack Baxter and Ray jumped into oldclothes and in an incredibly short time were on deck, the three eldermen in the party soon followed, and then the natives made room for theiremployees. But the Captain had taken orders from Mr. Dalken to slowlyfollow in the wake of the boats, in order to give the ladies anopportunity to watch the hunting.
Breakfast was quite neglected that morning because the girls wereengaged in watching the sport. From the vantage point of the higherelevation on the yacht they could watch all without any troublewhatever.
There seemed to be quite a fleet of boats, all of which were built bythe natives. The turtle nets were woven of the leaves of thethatch-palm. The leaf is denuded and the membrane thus left is twistedinto almost unbreakable fibrous cords. When dried, this mesh would haveheld the most powerful fish caught in its net.
There was intense excitement when one of the men in a boat sighted adeep-sea turtle. Then the others all followed carefully the directionsof the leader in his boat. They came up to the quarry in a semi-circle,dragging the great net as they approached in shallow water.
Suddenly the watchers on the yacht saw the heavy net cast andimmediately a desperate thrashing and flopping of about three hundredpounds of turtle began. The water was lashed to a foam and one boat wascompletely capsized by a fin that struck its side.
Finally the men manipulated the net in such a way that the great turtlewas turned over upon his back; then the flapping of fins, each strongerthan a flail, accompanied by the uncanny sort of moaning from thereptile, caused vague sympathy from the watchers on the yacht.
The great creature was dragged in the net by the last boat in the line,and after strenuous effort was left in the deep-sea pool off the quay. Aquantity of turtle grass was left for the reptile to feed upon, and thesport for that time was over--all but the paying off of the natives whohad staged the play.
These same natives had induced Mr. Dalken and his friends to consider aday's hunting in the alligator swamps just off the Rio Cobra River. Theladies could not possibly take part in this dangerous sport--not sodangerous from the jaws of the alligators as from the dreaded miasmawhich is continually rising from the hotbeds of typhoid-malarial scums.
All the warnings and beseechings, to say nothing of the threats, fromthe wives of two of the men proved to be of any avail. They weredetermined to go!
When it was found that all prayers left the male contingent of theyachting party as hard as flint toward any proposition of giving up thealligator shooting, the ladies suddenly reversed their opinions and didall possible to hasten the men from the yacht.
"They have some trick up their sleeves," remarked Mr. Ashby smilingly,to his companions.
"You don't think they plan to accompany us in the yacht, do you?"questioned Mr. Dalken, anxiously. "It would be a great hazard for them."
"No, not that; but there is no use in asking them what is their planbecause they would come back with the counter proposition for us toremain here and find out."
Hence the men in their oldest clothes with rubber boots to their hipsleft the yacht. The slimy marshes they would have to wade through wouldnecessitate the discard of any clothing after the hunt ended.
The alligator of the West Indies is half-brother to the crocodile ofAfrica, though he is not as large as the latter; still, he is largeenough to mutilate a man and quickly kill him. Hence the sport isfraught with some danger as well as unpleasant experiences from insectsand the malarial localities.
The natives called at the yacht in a large open boat something after thepattern of a northern whaler. Having approved of the attire of theyachtsmen, the guide started the craft for the swamps. At the mouth ofthe Rio Cobra lay a flat stretch of mud-colored sand with every now andthen a patch of bushes, scrub-trees and coarse grass.
"I suppose the reptiles sleep in those watery places, which one can seeglistenin
The guide of the party nodded and pointed at what seemed afar to be afloating log. The Americans looked intently and found the log hadhalf-closed eyes but an open mouth--open to catch any wandering tidbitwhich might be attracted to venture to that gate of sure death.
"If only we were over there now--we'd bag our first 'gator, eh?" saidJack, anxiously.
"No, no, not him! He gone too queeck," replied the guide.
The boat was anchored and the men climbed out into water which reachedto their waists. Then the guide started out to divide the party intounits. He led the two young men as he must have thought they needed morecareful supervision than the older and more reserved men in the group.
"Good gracious! Every known pest of an insect must find its home in thisswamp!" exclaimed Ray, as he kept busily whipping away gnats, midges,mosquitoes, and a myriad of other stinging bugs.
"Gee! Can't say I care for this stench of rotting wood and decayedvegetation," laughed Jack, wrinkling his nostrils to keep out the odor.
Passing through evil-looking stretches of scum, over rotting stumps,disturbing nests of plagues, and causing swarms of stinging insects tocover their hands and faces, the two young men finally reached a spotwhere the guide suddenly halted.
"Looka-dere!" he whispered, pointing to an up-thrust of green filth andscum.
Jack and Ray stared for a moment in sheer unbelief, then they aimed,shot, and at the same instant the sickening mass sunk, and all thehunters could see was a cleavage of the surrounding slime.
"Too late!" sighed the guide: "Him hear me talk."
The three resumed their difficult progress farther into the swamp, andthen without notice Jack lifted his rifle, aimed, and an explosionechoed throughout the place. A great shower of chips and bark rewardedthis exploit, and the guide laughed good-naturedly.
"Him sure dead log!" remarked he to Jack's discomfiture.
Finally they halted again and the guide silently pointed to a smallerheap of scum quite close to what looked like a great tree-trunk fallenover into the water. Both boys aimed and shot at what they believed tobe a small alligator, and then to their great amazement the _huge_ logscuttled away, while the small child of the immense mother followed inher wake leaving a streak of crimson in the stream to tell the huntersthey had missed killing him.
"We go in here, sit down and watch. Mebbe big 'gator come by." Thussaying the guide started for a screened spot in the marsh and posted hisfollowers upon a log which gave them a good view of the surroundingarea. He sat upon the lower end of the tree.
Jack looked carefully around, and Ray watched a spot that made him thinka submerged alligator might rise up and offer him a good target. Jackspied a vast depression in the mud bank near his right hand, and theguide nodded.
At the moment of Jack's distraction and the guide's nod, Ray pulled thetrigger of his gun and the shot found a true result of that aim. A tinyalligator came to the surface, half-turned over in the coating of green,and gasped. At the same time a maddened splashing came through the greenmarsh-grass near the dying infant 'gator, and soon an enormous head withsnapping jaws thrust itself from the water.
The half-crazed mother used her snout to tenderly go over the quiveringbody of her child, and when she found it had breathed its last shelifted the mud-crusted head and gazed balefully around.
"Queeck! Queeck--shoot!" commanded the guide, taking swift aim and firinga load at the reptile. But his shot missed because the alligator wasthrashing too wildly across the water and making for the hunters.
Not ten yards separated the three men who were doomed if they did notclimb out of the reach of those sinister jaws with their double rows oflong white teeth. Her eyes showed what the alligator meant to do to themurderers of her child, and the very twisting and lightning-like advanceof the huge thing sent a shiver of dread along the spines of the twoyoung hunters.
Again the rifle of the guide cracked, and in another moment the guns ofthe two Americans sent forth their spurts of red and the yellow streaksof death right into the opened jaws of the monster. Still she came onand lifted her vast opened jaw within a foot of Jack's leg. The lashingtail of the alligator was the only thing which told she had been shotand was suffering.
It would have been good-night for the hunter's leg had not the guidefilled the forehead of the reptile with shot--shot that entered betweenthe eyes and sank into the brain to paralyze further designs on herenemies.
With a mighty effort the huge creature lifted herself half out of thewater and flung herself far from the log. The midstream silently coveredher with its green covering and the monster sank from view.
"Did we kill her?" nervously cried Jack.
"Her gone! She die, but not here. Where she go we no go!"
"All right, then, I'm through hunting alligators. After seeing thefrantic grief and mother-love in that awful thing's eyes I could not aimat another creature in this swamp. You go on with the guide, Ray, butI'm through!" declared Jack.
"I say the same, Jack. When you remember the old reptile's snout as shelovingly went over the carcass of her young, it makes us seem likebrutes, even less soulful than the poor alligator. Come on."
The guide smiled. He could not understand such sentiments over a vilealligator, and he felt that he had selected a pair of weak-kneed youthsto take into the swamp.
"You not fraid of legs! I not let alligator bite you, I swear!"exclaimed the guide, thinking they were nervous at the closeacquaintance with the mother-'gator.
But Jack took no trouble to explain. They motioned the man to lead out,and shortly after the incident had closed the three reached the sandyshore where the boat had been anchored.
In the heat of a tropical sun they ate a few rice-cakes and drank warmwater from the canteen, but they had to wait for more than an hourbefore the other hunters came back. Meanwhile the guide had followed hisown bent and had gone back into the swamp to secure a trophy. Jack wasglad to find later that he had not seen a single snout.
The return trip was soon accomplished, but when the boat came to theplace where the yacht had been last seen there was not a sign of theWhite Crest.
"Well, this is what they planned--to give us the slip!" laughed Mr.Dalken, as he motioned the men to keep on and land them on the wharf ofSpanish Town.
The hunters returned earlier than had been planned for, hence they had atiresome wait at Spanish Town for the appearance of the White Crest oncemore. All they could learn by questioning the loafers at the quay wasthe fact that the yacht had sailed away. That was self-evident, or elseshe had gone down. The latter was too impossible for belief so she_must_ have sailed away.
Dinnertime came and passed, still no White Crest. The darkness came overthe water and the squatty houses of Spanish Town, and still no yacht. Itwas close to midnight when the impatient watchers, seated on a crudeplank on the wharf, saw a beautiful silvery craft glide up to the mouthof the river and silently drop her anchor.
"Well, there she is, but how are we to reach her?" asked the owner,chewing the end of a cigar.
"We'll halloo for the Captain to send us the boat," replied Jack, andimmediately Ray and he chorused a loud call for transportation over thebay.
The transfer was made and then, man-like, the hunters all clamored foran explanation. "To think of leaving us stranded all day and half thenight!" exclaimed Mr. Ashby.
"We thought you planned to be hunting until sundown," said Mrs. Ashby.
"And of course you would be worn out when you got back and wouldappreciate a little quiet on the quay," added Mrs. Fabian, smilingly.
"Where have you been?" demanded Jack.
"We've been cooling our heels ever since four o'clock."
"Perhaps we had the best time then," said Mrs. Courtney. "I certainlyenjoyed myself immensely to-day and this evening."
"We all did," echoed her companions. "We sailed all round Jamaica andsaw sights which you men would not bother to stop and appreciate. Wehave seen the tiny palm
"And thanks to the good yacht," laughed Mr. Dalken.
"We may as well add: thanks to Dalky and his generous invitation to us,"concluded Polly.
And to the latter motion every one called a unanimous hurrah!
The following day was given to visiting the cathedral which is theoldest building on the island. It can show an antiquity of fourcenturies and withstood all battles for supremacy of different factionsand nations since 1523. Polly and Eleanor went with Mr. Fabian and Mr.Ashby to examine and study the old monuments, the style of decoration,and the many other notable points of interest to architects anddecorators.
Having ended this visit, the tourists returned to the White Crest andsailed away, but to stop at Hope Gardens--the Botanical Gardens and ashow-place of Jamaica. There were many other places to be visited, alist of them showing that some would have to be eliminated. So after"doing" Belle View, Castleton, and Mandeville, the entire party voted tosay goodby to Jamaica, the Queen of the Antilles, and continue on theirvagabondage.