STUB-TAIL

by Jack Ewing

Humans were not entirely new to the beast. It had seen them before, mostly down river near where the Barú met the sea, but it had never considered them as food. For weeks it had been exploring the river, working its way upstream, hanging out for a few days at each deep pool that harbored fish and water birds, and where small mammals came to drink. This pool had been good hunting not so long ago when the beast had killed a duck, and a couple of unsuspecting visitors to the water’s edge, an opossum and a dog. Farther upstream it found only fast flowing, frothy white current with no deep pools. Hunting had been fruitless, and the beast was hungry.

Since yesterday it had been patiently watching the three humans throw lines into the pool and pull out fish. The night before it had crawled up on the bank and watched, as they sat around a fire and later slept on the ground, a tempting prey. But the beast had doubts. They were a little farther from the water and a little larger than anything it had ever killed. The beast knew that patience was usually repaid. But finally opportunity had arrived; doubt disappeared. The smaller of the three humans was walking into the pool, swimming out ....... right to the beast .....

The three friends had been fishing in “Los Burros” pool on the Barú River since yesterday morning and had caught more fish than they could carry, mostly croaker. “My god it’s hot today,” sighed Vicente. “I think I’ll go for a dip.” Stripping down to his jockey shorts, Vicente waded in thigh deep, pushed off the bottom and glided out into the pool.

The water looked so refreshing that Guido too began undressing. Joaquin just kept on fishing. “Hey you guys,” he groaned, “you’re gonna scare away all the fish.”

Something big broke water and Vicente disappeared in a swirl. But before the turbulence calmed he surfaced and swam desperately toward his friends. Again the monster broke the surface, caught Vicente’s legs, rolled and waggled in the water and dragged him down, and again Vicente broke free, surfaced and struggled toward the edge. Half dressed and barefoot at the river’s edge, Guido stared in horror at his friend’s blood tainting the clear blue surface of the pool. Joaquin, fully clothed, rushed head on toward the pool, raised machete in hand. At the same time the monster again grabbed Vicente and began to roll and submerge. With adrenaline charged courage and strength he didn’t know he had, Joaquin lunged into the water and, swung his long knife at the rolling beast. The blade penetrated the soft underside of the thick armored tail, severing more than half a meter (19½ inches.) Vicente, traumatized and exhausted, surfaced once again. Joaquin stepped chest deep into the water, stretched a helping hand to his friend and pulled him safely to the edge of the pool. The crocodile headed down stream, oozing blood from the stub of its severed tail.

Don Nitos Gómez remembers that it was about a year later that he and his brother Chuta were tending their banana plantation at the edge of the Barú slightly up river from present day Rio Mar. Hearing a loud splashing in the river they went to investigate. No sooner had they reached the edge when Stub-tail attacked, leaping out of the water and falling against the sharply inclined bank, unable to reach the two men. Don Nitos remembers the crocodile being well over 4 meters (13 feet) long. Confident that Stub-tail couldn’t reach them the two brothers threw sticks and stones at the infuriated beast which eventually retired to a deeper part of the river and disappeared.

But everyone knew that Stub-tail was always lurking there. It is said to have attacked Juan Bautista Santa María as he crossed the Barú River on horseback, knocking the horse from beneath him. Both horse and rider managed to escape.

At some point in the 1960s Stub-tail left the Barú and appeared in the mouth of the Morete River, 20 kilometers (12 miles) down the coast to the southeast. He is reputed to have killed a man there, but considerable doubt surrounds the story. Some say that the man was murdered and the rap pinned on Stub-tail. The large American Crocodile (Crocodylus acutus) with the stubby tail hasn’t been seen for years. No one knows if it died of old age or migrated along the coast to another river, but regardless of its fate, Stub-tail will always be remembered in these parts and its descendants are certainly found here still.

Note: The attack on Vicente took place in the late 1940s. As the story is retold above, the basic facts are correct, but many of the details are creations of the author.

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