Five minutes after we had landed them they disappeared in the mystic silence of the jungle, anxious to gain the safety of their familiar haunts.
We remained on shore for an hour to stretch our legs, for the close quarters on the _Nautilus_ make some sort of exercise necessary. We wandered up-river for a little distance and saw, floating in the shallows near the shore, seven or eight basking crocodiles which slowly sank from view as we approached. Many funny little fish, with heads like frogs and fins in front like short fore legs, flopped and jumped about on the muddy flats the receding tide had left. We watched them for some minutes and laughed hugely at the antics of the fiddler-crabs fighting and trying to drag one another into their respective holes, where the victor could eat his unfortunate neighbor in peace, secure from interruption.
Upon our return to the schooner we found Ula holding aloft an almost empty cognac bottle. Upon his face there was a look of sorrow, for this, it seemed, was the very last of his once plentiful stock. After carefully measuring the contents with a speculative eye, he came to the conclusion that the remaining fluid was sufficient for only one more drink and raised the bottle to his lips. The cognac disappeared in one long swallow, and Ula dropped the empty bottle over the rail as though he were parting from his last friend. This was as it should be, for of late he had begun to show the effects of quarts previously imbibed. He seemed able to stand one or two, but many bottles drunk in rather quick succession were making themselves felt.
Though he was fairly steady on his feet, his eyes told the tale and his tongue had become noticeably thick. That evening he came to us and requested that we let him start on the stock we carry in our medicine kit. Of course we refused, and he sulkily returned to the stern sheets in disconsolate dejection. Later Ula was seized with a brilliant idea. His system craved alcohol. He must have it, he told himself. The compass of the _Nautilus_ held nearly a pint of grain alcohol. His face lighted with anticipation and before we realized the meaning of his fumbling with the instrument he had unscrewed the top and had drained the raw spirits to the last drop. It was a draft to kill a mule and probably would have ended him, but his tortured stomach refused to retain it. Enough of it stayed down, however, to reduce Ula to the most satisfying state of inebriation he had ever experienced. He became very friendly and most anxious to please, while we just looked at each other. There was nothing to be done. We thanked Providence that there was no more of the stuff within his reach and turned away from him in disgust.