THE VAMPIRE.
Leon's head was close to that of the sleeper, whose sweet breath he
felt, and whose little bosom rose and fell in gentle undulation. He
scanned the inside of the hammock from head to foot. He gazed anxiously
into every fold of the cover. Not an object could he see that should not
have been there--no terrible creature--no serpent--for it was this last
that was in his mind. But something must have been there. What could
have caused the stream of blood, that now being closer he could more
plainly see trickling over the soft blue veins? Some creature must have
done it!
"Oh! if it be the small viper," thought he, "or the coral snake, or the
deadly macaurel! If these----".
His thoughts at this moment were interrupted. A light flapping of wings
sounded in his ear--so light, that it appeared to be made by the soft
pinions of the owl, or some nocturnal bird. It was not by the wings of a
bird that that sound was produced, but by the wings of a hideous
creature. Leon was conscious, from the continued flapping, that
something was playing through the air, and that it occasionally
approached close to his head. He gazed upward and around him, and at
length he could distinguish a dark form passing between him and the
light; but it glided into the darkness again, and he could see it no
more.
Was it a bird? It looked like one--it might have been an owl--it was
full as large as one; but yet, from the glance he had had of it, it
appeared to be black or very dark, and he had never heard of owls of
that colour. Moreover, it had not the look nor flight of an owl. Was it
a bird at all? or whatever it was, was it the cause of the blood? This
did not appear likely to Leon, who still had his thoughts bent upon the
snakes.
While he was revolving these questions in his mind, he again turned and
looked toward the foot of the hammock. The sight caused him a thrill of
horror. There was the hideous creature, which, he had just seen, right
over the bleeding foot. It was not perched, but suspended in the air on
its moving wings, with its long snout protruded forward and pressed
against the toe of the sleeper! Its sharp white teeth were visible in
both jaws, and its small vicious eyes glistened under the light of the
fires. The red hair covering its body and large membranous wings added
to the hideousness of its aspect, and a more hideous creature could not
have been conceived. _It was the vampire_,--the blood-sucking
_phyllostoma_!
A short cry escaped from the lips of Leon. It was not a cry of pain, but
the contrary. The sight of the great bat, hideous as the creature was,
relieved him. He had all along been under the painful impression that
some venomous serpent had caused the blood to flow, and now he had no
further fear on that score. He knew that there was no poison in the
wound inflicted by the phyllostoma--only the loss of a little blood; and
this quieted his anxieties at once. He resolved, however, to punish the
intruder; and not caring to rouse the camp by firing, he stole a little
closer, and aimed a blow with the butt of his pistol.
[Illustration: THE VAMPIRE BAT.]
The blow was well aimed, and brought the bat to the ground, but its
shrill screeching awoke everybody, and in a few moments the camp was in
complete confusion. The sight of the blood on the foot of the little
Leona quite terrified Doña Isidora and the rest; but when the cause was
explained, all felt reassured and thankful that the thing was no worse.
The little foot was bound up in a rag; and although, for two or three
days after, it was not without pain, yet no bad effects came of it.
The "blood-sucking" bats do not cause death either to man, or any other
animal, by a single attack. All the blood they can draw out amounts to
only a few ounces, although after their departure, the blood continues
to run from the open wound. It is by repeating their attacks night after
night that the strength of an animal becomes exhausted, and it dies from
sheer loss of blood and consequent faintness. With animals this is far
from being a rare occurrence. Hundreds of horses and cattle are killed
every year in the South American pastures. These creatures suffer,
perhaps, without knowing from what cause, for the phyllostoma performs
its cupping operation without causing the least pain--at all events the
sleeper is very rarely awakened by it.
It is easy to understand how it sucks the blood of its victim, for its
snout and the leafy appendage around its mouth--from whence it derives
the name "phyllostoma"--are admirably adapted to that end. But how does
it make the puncture to "let" the blood? That is as yet a mystery among
naturalists, as it also is among the people who are habitually its
victims. Even Guapo could not explain the process. The large teeth--of
which it has got quite a mouthful--seem altogether unfitted to make a
hole such as is found where the "phyllostoma" has been at work. Their
bite, moreover, would awake the soundest sleeper.
Besides these, it has neither fangs, nor stings, nor proboscis, that
would serve the purpose. How then does its reach the blood? Many
theories have been offered; some assert that it rubs the skin with its
snout until its brings it to bleeding: others say that it sets the sharp
point of one of its large tusks against the part, and then by plying its
wings wheels round and round, as upon a pivot, until the point has
penetrated--that during this operation the motion of the wings fans and
cools the sleeping victim, so that no pain is felt. It may be a long
while before this curious question is solved, on account of the
difficulty of observing a creature whose habits are nocturnal, and most
of whose deeds are "done in the dark."
People have denied the existence of such a creature as the blood-sucking
bat--even naturalists have gone so far. They can allege no better
grounds for their incredulity than that the thing has an air of the
fabulous and horrible about it. But this is not philosophy. Incredulity
is the characteristic of the half-educated. It may be carried too far,
and the fables of the vulgar have often a stratum of truth at the
bottom. There is one thing that is almost intolerable, and that is the
conceit of the "closet-naturalist," who sneers at everything as untrue
that seems to show the least _design_ on the part of the brute
creation--who denies everything that appears at all singular or
fanciful, and simply because it appears so. With the truthful
observations that have been made upon the curious domestic economy of
such little creatures as bees, and wasps, and ants, we ought to be
cautious how we reject statements about the habits of other animals,
however strange they may appear.
Who doubts that a mosquito will perch itself upon the skin of a human
being, pierce it with its proboscis, and suck away until it is gorged
with blood! Why does it appear strange that a bat should do the same?
Now your closet-naturalist will believe that the bat _does_ suck the
blood of cattle and horses, but denies that it will attack man! This is
sheer nonsense. What difference to the vampire, whether its victim be a
biped or quadruped? Is it fear of the former that would prevent it from
attacking him? Perhaps it may never have seen a human being before:
besides, it attacks its victim while asleep, and is rarely ever caught
or punished in the act. Where these creatures are much hunted or
persecuted by man, they may learn to fear him, and their original habits
may become changed, but that is quite another thing.
As nature has formed them, the blood-sucking bats will make their attack
indifferently, either upon man or large quadrupeds. There are a thousand
proofs to be had in all the tropical regions of America. Every year
animals are killed by the _phyllostoma hastatum_, not in hundreds, but
in thousands. It is recorded that on one extensive cattle-farm several
hundred head were killed in the short period of six months by the bats;
and the vaqueros, who received a bounty upon every bat they should
capture, in one year succeeded in destroying the enormous number of
_seven thousand_! Indeed, "bat-hunting" is followed by some as a
profession, so eager are the owners of the cattle-farms to get rid of
these pests.
Many tribes of Indians and travellers suffer great annoyance from the
vampire-bats. Some persons never go to sleep without covering themselves
with blankets, although the heat be ever so oppressive. Any part left
naked will be attacked by the "phyllostoma", but they seem to have a
preference for the tip of the great toe--perhaps because they have found
that part more habitually exposed. Sometimes one sleeper is "cupped" by
them, while another will not be molested; and this, I may observe, is
true also of the mosquitoes. There may be some difference as to the
state of the blood of two individuals, that leads to this fastidious
preference. Some are far more subject to their attack than others--so
much so that they require to adopt every precaution to save themselves
from being bled to death. Cayenne pepper rubbed over the skin is used to
keep them off, and also to cure the wound they have made; but even this
sometimes proves ineffective.
Of course there are many species of bats in South America besides the
vampire; in fact, there is no class of mammalia more numerous in genera
and species, and no part of the world where greater numbers are found
than in the tropical regions of America. Some are insect-eaters, while
others live entirely on vegetable substances; but all have the same
unsightly and repulsive appearance. The odour of some kinds is extremely
fetid and disagreeable.
Notwithstanding this, they are eaten by many tribes of Indians, and even
the French Creoles of Guiana have their "bat-soup," which they relish
highly. The proverb "_De gustibus non disputandum est_," seems to be
true for all time. The Spanish Americans have it in the phrase "_Cada
uno a su gusto_;" "_Chacun à son goût_," say the French; and on hearing
these tales about "ant-paste," and "roast monkey," and "armidillo done
in the shell," and "bat-soup," you, boy reader, will not fail to exclaim
"Every one to his liking."
The vampire appeared to be to Guapo's liking. It was now his turn to
keep watch, and as the rest of them got into their hammocks, and lay
awake for a while, they saw him take up the bat, spit it upon a forked
stick, and commence broiling it over the fire. Of course _he ate it_!
When morning came, and they had got up, what was their astonishment to
see no less than fourteen bats lying side by side! They were dead, of
course: Guapo had killed them all during his watch. They had appeared at
one period of the night in alarming numbers, and Guapo had done battle
manfully without awaking anybody.
Another curious tableau came under their notice shortly after. Just as
they were about to embark, a singular looking tree was observed growing
near the bank of the river. At first they thought the tree was covered
with birds'-nests, or pieces of some kind of moss. Indeed, it looked
more like a tree hung over with rags than anything else. Curiosity led
them to approach it. What was their astonishment to find that the nests,
moss, or rags, were neither more or less than a vast assemblage of bats
suspended, and asleep! They were hanging in all possible positions; some
with their heads down, some by the claws upon either wing, and some by
both, while a great many had merely hooked over the branch the little
horny curvature of their tails. Some hung down along the trunk,
suspended by a crack in the bark, while others were far out upon the
branches.
It was certainly the oddest "roost" that any of the party (Guapo,
perhaps, excepted) had ever witnessed; and, after gazing at it for some
time, they turned away without disturbing the sleepers, and getting on
board once more, floated adown the stream swiftly and silently.