But the scent of the giant armadillo eluded us. When we waded
through some new, strange odor I looked back at Nupee, hoping for
some sign that it was the one we sought. But that night the great
armored creatures went their way and we ours, and the two did
not cross. Nupee showed me a track at the trail-side made long
ago, as wide and deep as the spoor of a dinosaur, and I fingered
it reverently as I would have touched the imprint of a recently
alighted pterodactyl, taking care not to spoil the outlines of the
huge claw-marks. All my search for him had been in vain thus far,
though I had been so close upon his trail as to have seen fresh
blood. I had made up my mind not to give up, but it seemed as if
success must wait for another year.
We watched and called the ghostly kinkajous and held them
fascinated with our stream of light; we aroused unnamable creatures
which squawked companionably at us and rustled the tree-top
leaves; we listened to the whispered rush of passing vampires
skimming our faces and were soothed by the hypnotic droning hum
which beetles left in their swift wake. Finally we turned and
circled through side trails so narrow and so dark that we walked
with outstretched arms, feeling for the trunks and lianas, choosing
a sloth’s gait and the hope of new adventures rather than the glare
of my flash on our path.
When we entered Kalacoon trail, we headed toward home. Within sight
of the first turn a great black branch of a tree had recently
fallen across the trail in a patch of moonlight. Before we reached
it, the branch had done something it should not have done--it had
straightened slightly. We strained our eyes to the utmost but could
not, in this eerie light, tell head from tail end of this great
serpent. It moved very slowly, and with a motion which perfectly
confounded our perception. Its progress seemed no faster than the
hour hand of a watch, but we knew that it moved, yet so close to
the white sand that the whole trail seemed to move with it. The eye
refused to admit any motion except in sudden shifts, like widely
separated films of a motion-picture. For minute after minute it
seemed quiescent; then we would blink and realize that it was two
feet higher up the bank. One thing we could see--a great thickening
near the centre of the snake: it had fed recently and to repletion,
and slowly it was making its way to some hidden lair, perhaps to
lie motionless until another moon should silver the jungle. Was
there any stranger life in the world?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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