gots, and even Guapo's monkey, were being knocked about in
every direction.

Of course such a violent scene could not be of long duration. It must
end one way or the other. Guapo, who soon came to himself, now that he
saw what it was that had pitched him over, had already conceived a plan
for terminating it. He ran for his axe, which fortunately lay out of the
range of the crocodile's tail, and having laid his hands upon it, he
approached in a stealthy manner with the intention of striking a blow.

He directed himself towards the root of the reptile's tail, for he knew
that that was the only place where a blow of the axe would cripple it;
but, just as he was getting within reach, the crocodile suddenly shifted
himself round, making his tail fly like a piece of sprung whalebone.
Guapo leaped hastily back--as hastily, I will make bold to say, as any
Indian of his years could have done, but not quick enough to clear
himself quite. He wanted about eight inches; but in this case inches
were as good as miles for the crocodile's purpose, for about eight
inches of the tip of his tail came "smack" across Guapo's naked shins,
and sent the old Indian head over heels.

It was just an accident that Guapo's shanks were not broken like sticks
of sealing-wax; and had the blow been directed with the crocodile's full
force, such would have been the unhappy result. As it was they were only
"scratched," and Guapo, leaping to his feet, ran to recover his axe, for
that weapon had flown several yards out of his hands at the blow.

By the time he laid hold of it, however, the _saurian_, was no longer on
dry ground. His newly-opened eyes--opened, perhaps, for the first time
for months--caught sight of the water close by, and crawling forward a
step or two, he launched his ugly, mud-bedaubed carcass into the welcome
element. The next moment he had dived, and was out of sight.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE CROCODILE AND CAPIVARAS.

Guapo was in no humour for enjoying the conversation of that evening.
The crocodile had "choused" him out of his favourite supper. The monkey
was literally knocked to "smithereens," and the pieces that still
adhered together were daubed all over with mud. It wasn't fit meat--even
for an Indian--and Guapo had to content himself with a dried plantain
and a stew of jerked horse-flesh.

Of course Don Pablo and the rest examined with curiosity the great hole
in the mud that had contained the crocodile. There it had