The gully enters the
boulder-strewn inlet under the shade of much leafage. The great
Pacific gurgles at the base of giant rocks, among which a ragged
palm (CARYOTA) bears immense bunches of yellow insipid fruit, each
containing two coffee-like berries. Panjoo is a favourite objective,
for it may be approached from various directions, each pleasant,
but as a resort for a crocodile it is about as unpromising a locality
as could be imagined.
Thither one bright November morning we ("Paddy," the most silent and
alert of black boys, and myself) went. The tide was out, and we found a
comparatively easy track close to the margin of the sea, having
occasionally to wade through shallow pools and to clamber over rocks
thickly studded with limpets.
Years gone by a huge log of pencil cedar had been cast among the
boulders at Panjoo, and as I looked at the log "Paddy" with a start
indicated the presence of a novelty--a crocodile apparently in repose,
with its head in the shadow of a boulder. I was carrying a pea rifle
more for company than for anything else; for "Paddy," though of a most
cheerful disposition, never made remarks. His conversation for the most
part was compounded of eloquent looks and expressive gestures.
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