human
Well, Senor Ludwig, if you want to know what a lightning eel is like, take one of the common kind--which of course you've seen--a full-sized one; make that about ten times as thick as it is, without adding much to its length, and you'll have the thing, near as I can think it. So much for the reptile's bulk; though there are some both bigger round, and longer from head to tail. As for its colour, over the back it's a sort of olive green--just like _yerba_ leaves when they've been let stand a day or two after plucking. On the throat, and under the belly, it's paler, with here and there some blotches of red. I may tell you, however, that the lightning-eels change colour same as some of the lizards; partly according to their age, but as much from the sort of water they're found in--whether it be a clear running stream, or a muddy stagnant pond, such as the one Senor Cypriano has spoken of. Besides, there are several kinds of them, as we gauchos know; though, I believe, the _naturalutas_ are not aware of the fact. The most dangerous sort, and no doubt the same that's just attacked us, have broad heads, and wide gaping mouths full of sharp teeth, with flat tails and a pair of fins close to the nape of the neck. _Carramba_! they're ugly devils to look at, and still uglier to have dealings with; that is, when one's in the water alongside them--as we ourselves know. Still they don't always behave so bad, as these did to-day. When I crossed this stream before, with the _dueno_, neither he nor I felt the slightest shock to tell of eels being in it. I suppose it's the _tormenta_ that's set them a stirring. Like enough, there's some connection between their lightning and that of the sky. If so, that's what has quickened the brutes, and made them so mad. Well, he adds, as if drawing his account to a conclusion,
gpt
But who eats them, Gaspar? interrogates Ludwig, still incredulous on the question of their being a fit article of diet.
human
I've never heard of their being eaten, nor brought to market like other fish.
gpt
Hundreds, thousands of people eat them, _hijo mio_. They're in great request in some places; ay, all over the country. Both whites and Indians relish them; but more especially the redskins. Some tribes prefer them to any other food, be it fish, flesh, or fowl; and make a regular business of catching them.
human
Ah! how are they caught?
gpt
There are various ways; but the usual one is by spearing them. Sometimes the slippery fellows glide out of their mud beds and come to the surface of the water, as it were to amuse themselves by having a look round. Then the fisherman gets a chance at them, without any searching, or trouble. He is armed with a long pole of _cana brava_, one end having an iron point barbed like a spear. This, he launches at them, just as I've heard say whalers do their harpoons. For, if he kept the shaft in his hands, he'd catch it from their lightning, and get strokes that would stagger him. Still, he doesn't let go altogether; as there's a cord attached to the spear, and with that he can haul in the fish, if he has struck it. But he must have a care to keep his cord out of the water; if it gets wetted he'll have a fit of the trembles upon him, sure. For it's a fact--and a curious one you'll say, _senoritos_-- that a dry cord won't conduct the eel's lightning, while a wet one will.
human
It _is_ a fact, says Ludwig, endorsing the statement.
gpt
I've heard father speak of it.
human
Very singular,
gpt
And I can tell you of another fact, pursues the gaucho,
human
But can that be done, Gaspar?
gpt
Certainly it can. I've seen it done. And he who did it was your own dear father, Senor Ludwig. It was one day when we were out on a ramble, and caught one of the eels in a pool, where it had got penned up by the water having dried around it. The _dueno_ took out a piece of wire, and with one end tickled the eel; the other end being stuck into some gunpowder, which was wrapped loosely in a piece of paper. The powder flashed and set the paper ablaze, as also some leaves and dry sticks we'd laid around it. Soon we had a fire; and on that same fire we broiled the eel itself, and ate it. _Por dios_! I only wish we had one broiling over this fire. I'd want no better thing for supper.