Part 9 (1/2)

The entire party became jolly as they breathed in the light breeze that had come up. Even the women, so full of presentiments a few moments ago, were now laughing and joking among themselves.

One young man alone of all the party remained silent. He was the pilot, an athletic-looking fellow, and interesting on account of his large, sad eyes and the severe lines of his lips. His long, black hair fell gracefully over his powerful neck. He wore a s.h.i.+rt of coa.r.s.e dark cloth, through which his powerful muscles could be plainly seen as he manipulated with his strong arms the wide, heavy paddle as if it were only a pen. This paddle served both to propel and to steer the bancas.

More than once he was embarra.s.sed when he caught Maria Clara looking at him. Then he would turn his eyes quickly to some other direction and look far off toward the mountain, or the sh.o.r.e of the lake. The young maiden pitied him in his solitude and offered him some biscuits. The pilot looked at her with surprise, but only for a moment. He took the biscuits, thanked her very briefly and in a voice scarcely audible.

No one else took any notice of him. The happy laughter and jolly conversation of the young men did not cause him to relax a single muscle of his face. Not even Sinang, with all her jollity, had any effect on him.

”Wait a minute!” said Aunt Isabel to the boatman's son, who had made ready his net and was just about to go up on the baklad to take out the fish from the little enclosure at the end of the weir. ”We must have everything ready, so that the fish may pa.s.s directly from the water to the pot.”

Andeng, the pretty foster sister of Maria Clara, despite her clear complexion and laughing face, had the reputation of being a good cook. She prepared the rice, tomatoes, and camias, [10] while some of the young men tried to aid or bother her, perhaps in order to win her good will. The other girls were busy cleaning and making ready the lettuce, cabbage and peas, and cutting up paayap in pieces about the size of a cigarette.

Finally Andeng announced that the kettle was ready to receive its guests--the fish.

The fisherman's son went up on top of the rack at the end of the weir. He took a position at the narrow entrance, over which might have been written: ”All who enter here leave hope behind,” if indeed the unfortunate fish would know how to read and understand it, for a fish who enters never gets out except to die. The rack is almost circular in form and about a meter in diameter, and is so arranged that a man can stand on top of one end of it and thus take out the fish with his net.

”There, it wouldn't tire me a bit to fish that way,” said Sinang, quite joyful.

All were watching attentively. Already some of them in their vivid imaginations thought they could see the fish wiggling their tails and trying to get out of the little net, their scales s.h.i.+ning in the bright sun. However, the young man failed to catch a single fish in his first attempt.

”It ought to be full of fish,” said Albino, in a low voice. ”It is more than five days since we visited the place last.”

The fisherman drew out his net a second time, but not a fish was there in it. The water, as it trickled through the meshes of the net in countless drops which reflected the rays of the sun, seemed to laugh in silvery tones. An ”Ah” of surprise, disgust, and disappointment escaped from the lips of all.

The young fellow repeated the same operation, but with a similar result.

”You don't understand your business!” said Albino to him as he stepped up on the rack and took the net from the hands of the youngster. ”Now you will see! Andeng, open up the kettle!”

But Albino did not understand his business, either. The net came up empty as before. All began to laugh.

”Don't make any noise,” he said, ”or the fish will hear it and will keep from being caught. This net must have a hole in it somewhere.”

But every mesh in the net was perfect.

”Let me take it!” said Leon, Iday's lover, to Albino.

Leon first made sure that the enclosure was in good condition and then examined the net carefully and satisfied himself that there was nothing wrong with it. He then asked: ”Are you sure that no one has been out here for five days?”

”We are sure! The last time any one was out here was on All Saints'

Day.”

”Well, then, I am going to bring out something this time, unless the lake is bewitched.”

Leon lowered the net by its bamboo handle into the water, but a look of surprise was painted on his face. In silence he looked toward the neighboring mountain and continued moving the handle of the net from one side to the other. Finally, without taking the net out of the water, he murmured in a low voice: ”An alligator.”

”An alligator!” exclaimed half a dozen voices, and the word was repeated again while all stood frightened and stupefied.

”What did you say?” they asked.

”I say that there is an alligator caught in the rack,” said Leon, and sticking the handle of the net into the water again he continued: ”Do you hear that sound? That is not sand, it is hard skin, the back of the alligator. Do you see how he wiggles the bamboo pickets in the rack? He is struggling hard but he cannot do anything. Wait. He is a large fellow; his body measures a palm or more in width.”