“Yis, massa,” answered the black, showing his white teeth; “dat is de bottle of dis great city.”  Sambo could speak a little English, having wrought for several years on the coffee plantation of a Yankee settler.  He was a bit of a wag, too, much to the indignation of his grave master, the Senhor Antonio, who abhorred jesting.

“Ye’re too cliver, avic,” said Barney, with a patronizing smile; “take care ye don’t use up yer intellect too fast.  It hurts the constitution in the long-run.”

“I say, Barney,” cried Martin, who had gone ahead of his companions, “come here, man, and just look at this pond.  It’s literally crammed full of alligators.”

“Musha, but there’s more alligators than wather, I belave!” exclaimed Barney.

The pond was indeed swarming with these ferocious reptiles, which were constantly thrusting their ugly snouts above the surface and then disappearing with a flourish of their powerful tails.  During the rainy season this lake was much larger, and afforded ample room for its inhabitants; but at the height of the dry season, which it was at this time, there was little water, and it was much overstocked.  When alligators are thus put upon short allowance of water, they frequently bury themselves in the wet mud, and lie dormant for a long time, while the water continues to retire and leaves them buried.  But when the first shower of the rainy season falls, they burst open their tomb and drag their dry bodies to the lake or river on whose margin they went to sleep.

An hour or two later the Senhor Antonio arrived; but as it was getting dark, nothing could be done until the following morning; so they slung their hammocks under the wooden shed on the margin of the lake, and, in order to save themselves as much as possible from the bites of the tormenting mosquitoes, went to sleep with their heads tied up in their handkerchiefs, and their hands thrust into their breeches pockets!  The occasional splash and snort of contending alligators, about twenty yards off, varied the monotony of the hours of darkness, while the frogs and cranes and jaguars sang their lullaby.

CHAPTER XVI

AN ALLIGATOR HUNT—­REMARKABLE EXPLOSIONS—­THE RAINY SEASON USHERED IN BY AN AWFUL RESURRECTION

At sunrise an expressive shout in Portuguese set the black slaves on their feet; and, after a hasty breakfast of alligator-tail and farina, they commenced operations.  Alligator-tail is by no means bad food, and after the first mouthful,—­taken with hesitation and swallowed with difficulty,—­Martin and Barney both pronounced it “capital.”  Sambo, who had cooked the delicate morsel, and stood watching them, smacked his lips and added, “Fuss rate.”

All being now ready for the hunt, a number of Negroes entered the water, which was nowhere very deep, with long poles in their hands.  This appeared to Martin and Barney a very reckless and dangerous thing to do, as no doubt it was.  Nevertheless accidents, they were told, very rarely happened.