Prev | Current Page 240 | Next

Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


"In that case I wouldn't give much for his chances of a happy
existence," I observed.
We wasted no time after that, for we wanted no more
interruptions. Some fifteen precious minutes we lost trying to
withdraw the spear I had buried in the body of the Inca, but the
thing had become wedged between two ribs and refused to come out.
Finally we gave it up and threw the corpse in the lake.
We then removed the oars and spears and raft--which had floated
so near to the ledge that we had no difficulty in recovering
it--to our hiding-place, and last we tackled our fish.
It was a task for half a dozen men, but we dared not remain on
the ledge to skin him and cut him up. After an hour of exertion
and toil that left us completely exhausted, we managed to get him
behind a large boulder to the left of the ledge, but it was
impossible to carry him to the place we had selected, which could
be reached only by passing through a narrow crevice.
The only knives we had were the points of the spears, but they
served after a fashion, and in another hour we had him skinned
and pretty well separated. He was meaty and sweet. We discovered
that with the first opportunity, for we were hungry as wolves.


Pages:
228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252