At first there was
little to see save blue water, for the mouth of the Chokohatchee was
more an estuary of the sea than a river. Far away on either side were
the low-growing tangled growths of mangrove which represented the
river's banks near the sea, and toward these banks, from both sides of
the wake, water birds could be seen winging their way, frightened from
their feeding ground by the Cormorant's rush. Great, clumsy pelicans
rose painfully and flew with surprising speed, once they were in the
air; small blue herons went shoreward in uncountable flocks, flying
high into the morning sun. Close to the water, ducks of many kinds
clove the air with business-like intent and speed.
The water itself seemed alive with an abundance of life. The black
back of a porpoise showed above the surface; far away the sun glinted
on the silver scales of a leaping tarpon. The red sides of a mangrove
snapper were seen as it tried in vain to escape the jaws of a
steel-gray barracuda, and a moment later half of the slim barracuda
flew into the air as the jaws of a shark, catching it in full flight,
snapped it in two.
The course of the Cormorant was shifted slightly, and by the muddy
color of the water Payne knew they were entering the river proper. The
stream here was perhaps two hundred yards across and over the stern, to
port and starboard, the banks were plainly visible.
Pages:
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46