Gerald Durrell - THREE SINGLES TO ADVENTURE
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- Название:THREE SINGLES TO ADVENTURE
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"Well, I'm willing to have a try. We've walked all this way to see the Amerindians, and I don't see why we should go back until we've seen them," said Bob pugnaciously.
"All right," I said, "we'll have a shot at it."
We removed our clothes and waded out naked into the lake.
"What you going to do, Chief?" said Cordai in alarm.
"Swim across," I said airily.
"But, Chief, it's not a good place to swim."
"Why not?" I inquired coldly. "You said that you'd swum across it many times."
"It's too far for you, Chief," said Cordai feebly.
"Nonsense, my good man. Why, this chief here has got several medals for swimming across lakes which in comparison to this would seem like the Atlantic ."
This successfully crushed Cordai, who was not at all sure what a medal was. We waded out, and by the time we had reached the edge of the reed-beds we were up to our necks in warm honey-coloured waters. We paused for a moment to survey the opposite bank and see which was the nearest point to head for, and I suddenly realized that neither Bob nor I had removed our hats. There was something so ludicrous about the sight of Bob splashing about in the dark waters, doggedly doing the breast-stroke, with an elegant green pork-pie hat set at a jaunty angle over one eye, that I got an attack of the giggles.
"What's the matter?" asked Bob.
I trod water and gasped for breath.
" Intrepid Explorer Swims Lake In Hat," I spluttered.
"You've got yours on too."
"That's in case we meet any female Indians on the other side. Dammit, man, one must have a hat to raise to a lady. Where are your gentlemanly instincts?"
Elaborating this theme we became quite weak with laughter.
We were floating on our backs to recover, when we heard a series of plops, and the water ahead of us was rippled by something beneath the surface. From the bank we heard Ivan and Cordai shouting: "Come back. Chief, they bad fish," came Cordai's voice.
"I think they're piranhas, sir," came Ivan's cultured accents.
Bob and I glanced at each other, and at the ripples which were rapidly approaching, and then we both turned and swam back to shore at a speed that would certainly have won us a couple of medals in any swimming-pool. We emerged dripping and gasping but still wearing our ridiculous headgear.
"Were they piranhas?" I asked Ivan, as soon as I had recovered my breath.
"I don't know, sir," he replied, "but it would not be safe to risk it in case they are."
"I couldn't agree with you more," panted Bob.
It may be necessary to explain that the piranha is one of the most unpleasant freshwater fish known. It is a flat, corpulent, silver-coloured fish, with the lower jaw protruded, so that in profile it looks exactly like a bulldog. This mouth is armed with one of the most fearsome sets of teeth to be found in the fish world. They are triangular in shape and so arranged that when the fish closes its mouth they interlock with the precision of a cog-wheel. Piranhas live in schools in most of the tropical South American rivers, and they have earned for themselves a vivid reputation. They appear to have an ability to smell blood underwater for considerable distances, and at the first whiff of it, they all congregate with incredible speed at the spot and with their dreadful teeth proceed to tear the object to pieces. The thoroughness with which they can dismantle a living or dead body is illustrated by an experiment that was once carried out. A capybara, a large South American rodent that grows to the size of a big dog, was killed, and its corpse was hung in a river infested by piranhas. The Capybara weighed a hundred pounds, but its fat body had been stripped to a skeleton within fifty-five seconds. On examination of the skeleton it was found that some of the fish had bitten clean through the ribs in their frenzied efforts to tear off the flesh. Whether or not the fish in the lake had been piranhas I don't know, but I think we did the wisest thing in coming out, for you can't go swimming among hungry piranhas and live to profit by your mistake.
While Ivan and Cordai continued screaming across the lake Bob and I made our way through the trees until we came to the deserted farm-clearing, and here we wandered around naked in the sun to dry. While we were investigating the dilapidated hut we found a long plank lying on the ground, half hidden in the undergrowth. Now anyone who has done any animal collecting of any sort knows that you must turn over every log, plank, or stone you come across, for in this way you sometimes find a rare creature you would otherwise miss.
This turning over of objects in your path becomes automatic after a bit, and so, on finding the plank. Bob and I bent down without hesitation and turned it over. Lying in the damp hollow beneath it was a long, slender and somewhat dangerous looking snake. As we were clad only in hats and shoes the snake had a distinct advantage, of which, for some reason, it did not make use; it just lay there and looked at us, while we discussed its capture in whispers and without moving.
"There's a bit of string in my trousers pocket," said Bob, helpfully.
"All right, I'll nip back and fetch it. You keep an eye on the snake."
I moved backwards slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the snake, and then I ran to our pile of clothes. Having found the string I cut a stick and tied it on the end. Then I fashioned a noose in the loose end of the cord and ran back to Bob. The snake had not moved an inch, and it did not move until it felt the noose tighten round its neck. Then it curled up into a tight knot and hissed vigorously. It was one of those slim brown tree snakes that are quite common in Guiana and, we found later, are only very mildly poisonous. But this in no way destroyed our pleasure in the capture, and as we eased it into a cloth bag we felt very intrepid. Just as we were discussing the subtle difference between facing a snake when you had clothes on and facing one when you had nothing on, Ivan came panting through the trees to tell us that all the shouting had at last borne fruit: a canoe was coming across the lake.
The canoe grounded among the rushes at our feet, and its owner stepped out into the shallow water. He was an Amerindian youth of about eighteen, dressed in a pair of tattered trousers. He was short and stocky, with a skin that was a peculiar shade of warm yellow-bronze turning copper colour where the sun struck it. He had a broad nose, a wide and well shaped mouth, high Mongolian cheekbones and large dark slanting eyes. His hair was fine and black, not the glossy, magpie black of the East Indian, with blue tints in it, but the soft smooth black of soot. He smiled at us shyly, while his expressionless black eyes flicked about our persons, absorbing every detail. Cordai talked with him in his own language, and he replied in a deep, husky voice.
After some interrogation it turned out that most of the Amerindians had moved from across the lake to a more suitable camping ground a few miles away. Only this boy and his family were left. Did we, asked Cordai, want to go across and see them? We certainly did, so we piled ourselves into the leaky and precarious canoe, and the boy paddled us smoothly across the lake. By the time we reached the other side, however, our combined weights had pushed the craft low in the water, and an alarming amount was slopping over the sides. The youth nosed the canoe into the reeds, where it settled in the soft mud like a waterlogged banana skin, and then he led the way through the forest, flitting between the trees as silently as a butterfly. In a short time we entered a small clearing among the trees and saw a large well-made hut constructed of bamboo. Several dogs came forward, yapping excitedly at us, but they stopped at a word from the youth. Seated on the ground in front of the hut was an elderly Amerindian who was evidently the father. His wife and a daughter of about sixteen were at work stripping the golden grain from some corn husks. A number of younger children played about the clearing amidst the clucking fowls. They all came and shook hands with us, but they were shy and obviously ill at ease in our presence, and, though they kept smiling at us and answered our questions readily, it was plain that they did not altogether trust us.
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