"I was in no danger whatever," continued the Indian. "Neither the sharks nor the tigers--which I afterwards also hunted as a profession-- could prevail against one destined to live as long as the ravens. Soon I shall be half-a-century old; and then _quien sabe_? At present, perhaps, no one here except myself could swim in the midst of those carnivorous creatures without the danger of certain death. _I_ could do it without the slightest risk." "Is that the secret of your courage, Costal--of which you give so many proofs?" "Yes, and no," replied the Indian. "Danger attracts me, as your body would attract the sharks. It is an instinct which I follow--not a bravado. Another reason, perhaps, gives me courage. I seek to avenge in Spanish blood the assassination of my forefathers. What care I for the political emancipation of you Creoles? But it is not of this I wish to speak now. Look yonder! Do you see anything down there?" A strange object just then came under the eyes of Lantejas, which caused him to make a movement of superstitious terror. Costal only smiled, while gazing calmly upon the object. A dark human-like form, with a sort of tufted hair hanging loosely over its head, had emerged from the water, and was supporting itself by his two arms upon the beach--as if resting there like some bather fatigued with swimming. "What is it?" inquired Lantejas in a troubled tone--the more so that a plaintive whine seemed to proceed from this singular object, which, with somewhat of the form of a woman, had nothing human in its voice. "A _manatee_," responded Costal; "an amphibious creature we call _pesca-mujer_--that is, half-fish, half-woman. Dare you stand face to face with a creature still more human-like in form--ah! more perfect than any human creature?" "What do you mean?" inquired Lantejas. "Senor Captain Don Cornelio," continued the Indian, "you who are so brave in the face of the enemy--" "Hum!" interrupted Lantejas with an embarrassed air, "the bravest has his moments of weakness, do you see?" An avowal of his want of courage--though on certain occasions the ex-student of theology was not lacking this quality--was upon the tongue of Lantejas, when Costal interrupted him with a rejoinder-- "Yes, yes. You are like Clara--although a little braver than he, since he has not had such an opportunity to cultivate an acquaintance with the tigers, as you. Well, then, if you were to see down on the beach yonder, in place of the manatee, a beautiful creature rise up out of the deep--a beautiful woman with dishevelled locks--her long hair dripping and shining with the water, and she singing as she rose to the surface; and were you to know that this woman, although visible to your eyes, was only a spirit, only of air--what would you do?" "A very simple thing," answered the ex-student, "I should feel terribly afraid."