Swift and Sure

The level rays of the early sun were struggling with the mist that
lingered upon a broad full river, like a sluggard loth to quit his bed.
As yet the contest was unequal, for the banks of the stream were covered
with trees and shrubs, crowding upon one another as if in competition for
elbow-room, through whose thick ravelled foliage the sunbeams could not
clear a way. Here and there, however, the dense screen was parted by
little alleys or open spaces carpeted with grass or moss, and through
these a golden radiance shone, dispersing the mist, and throwing a
glistening pathway across the river.

At one such glade, withdrawn a little from the brink, stood a jaguar,
which, from moment to moment, lifted its head and gave utterance to a
roar. It faced the stream: its tail lashed its flanks, to the annoyance
of countless flies which would fain have found a temporary lodgment in
its sleek and glossy coat. It roared, and roared again, with curious
persistence, for the mere pleasure of roaring, an observer might have
thought. And yet such a person, had he been worthy of the name observer,
would have detected a reason for this strange behaviour. Had he watched
the surface of the water opposite to where the jaguar stood, he would
have marked a gradual assembling of greenish-yellow objects, scaly and
hard; and, set in each, two glassy leering eyes. They were in fact the
snouts of alligators, or caymans as they are known in Venezuela.

Moment by moment the assemblage increased, the hideous creatures gaping
at the jaguar like an enraptured audience at a popular baritone. The
quadruped, indeed, was executing his solo for their amusement, though
hardly for their benefit. One could have fancied, as the audience grew,
that he derived encouragement from their presence, and exerted himself
with ever greater abandon. The performance, however, came to an end
surprisingly abrupt. Suddenly the roarer turned his head up-stream and
set off with lolloping gait along a winding track that led among the
trees. The observer, following him, would have seen him force his way
through the undergrowth, now leaping a fallen trunk that lay across his
path, now pressing his body through a tangle that might have seemed
impenetrable.

Meanwhile the caymans also had turned upstream, and swam after the
jaguar, like an idle crowd following at the heels of a street singer. But
though their movements were rapid, they had to stem the current, and the
object of their solicitation drew away from them. Nor did he stop to
practise his vocal powers again. Steadily he pursued his way until he had
left them a mile or more behind. Then, compelled to strike off to the
left by a peculiarly dense mass of thorn, he quitted the brink of the
stream for a few yards. Coming upon it again through a glade, he looked
warily about him, advancing with slow and stealthy tread. It was at this
spot that he purposed to cross the river. All at once he stopped short,
and sinking to the ground, lay motionless, scarcely distinguishable from
the jungle around him, so closely did his colouring harmonize with it. In
a few moments, with the silent undulating movement of a cat stalking a
bird, he crept forward. No caymans were near; having attracted them by
his vocalization he had left them in the lurch, and was content. But on a
branch of a tree overhanging the river he had spied the form of a
dark-skinned man stretched at full length. The hunted was now the hunter.
The reptiles had lost their victim; he in his turn was intent on seizing
his prey.

The man lay close upon the branch, his eyes fixed upon some object on the
farther bank, a little distance up-stream. The tree being rooted in the
base of the bank, which here rose a few yards above the river, the jaguar
was somewhat higher than the man, stretched all unsuspecting upon a lower
bough. Noiselessly, without so much as a rustle, the animal glided down
the face of the bank, and coming to the tree, began to climb up the
slanting trunk behind his destined victim. No ear could have detected his
furtive movements; the man's attention was absorbed by the object of his
gaze; yet, when the beast was only a few feet from him, some instinct
warned him of impending danger. He turned his head, and beheld the savage
creature crouching for a spring. Quick as thought, the man rolled himself
round the branch, and dropped with a heavy splash into the river. The
jaguar was already launched in air when the man let go his hold, but
instead of striking his prey, he lighted on the vacant branch. The force
of his spring was too great to be checked by the grip of his claws upon
the bark.