“But I find it a good deal pleasanter sleeping in the water,” protested Ichthyander.
“The Doctor’s orders were that you should sleep in bed—you mustn’t disobey your father.”
Though Ichthyander called Salvator Father, the old Indian doubted they were blood relations at all. True, the amphibian’s skin where it could be seen was rather pale, but that might be due to long immersions. Considering his elongated head, straight nose, thin lips and big sparkling eyes—Ichthyander rather struck Cristo as looking like an Araucanian.
Cristo wanted very much to see what colour Ichthyander’s body was under its close-fitting suit made of some unknown material.
“Do you never take off this thing-not even for the night?” he asked the young man one evening.
“Why should I? I feel comfortable enough in it. It doesn’t prevent either gill or skin breathing and besides is a good armour. Neither a shark’s teeth nor a sharp knife can pierce it,” Ichthyander replied.
“Why do you put goggles and those gloves and shoes on?” Cristo asked looking at the quaint objects lying near the bed. The gloves were made of greenish rubber and had extra finger joints with webs in between. The toes were still longer.
“The gloves and shoes are for faster swimming. And the goggles so that I don’t get sand in my eyes. Besides I can see a good deal better with them on. Without goggles everything’d be lost in a fog down there.” And smiling he continued, “When I was quite small Father used to let me play with the children in the other garden. I was very much surprised to see them swim without their gloves. ‘How can you swim without gloves?’ I asked them but they didn’t understand what I meant, for I never swam in their presence.”
“Do you still swim out into the gulf?” asked Cristo.
“Of course. Only I use the side tunnel. Some bad people nearly caught me with a net, so I’m very careful now.”
“Hm. So there’s a side tunnel leading to the sea, is there?”
“Yes, actually several of them. What a pity you can’t go swimming with me. I could have shown you simply wonderful things. We’d have ridden my sea-horse together. Oh, why can’t all people live underwater?”
“Your sea-horse? What’s that?”
“It’s a dolphin. I tamed him. I found the poor fellow on the shore after a storm, with a fin badly smashed. I dragged him into the water. That was quite a job, I can tell you. Dolphins weigh a lot more on land than they do in water. But then everything else does up here, in this world of yours. Even your own body. Life’s easier down there, you know. So I dragged the dolphin into the water as I’ve said, but found he couldn’t swim and that meant he couldn’t get food either.
I fed fish to him—for a whole month. In that time he not only became tame but sort of got attached to me. We made good friends. The other dolphins got to know me too. You can’t imagine what great fun it is, gambolling in the waves with dolphins on a sunny day! It’s good to be under the waves too. You seem to be swimming through thick blue air. It’s quiet all round. You don’t feel your own body; it becomes free, light, responsive to the merest movement… I have many friends out in the sea. I feed small fish as you’d feed birds, they follow me round in shoals.”
“Haven’t you any enemies?”
“Oh yes-sharks and octopuses. But I’m not afraid of them. I’ve got my knife.”
“And what if they steal upon you unawares?”
Ichthyander looked surprised.
“Why, I can hear them coming at quite a distance.”
“Hear them?” It was Cristo’s turn to look surprised. “Even when they try to steal up on the sly?”
“That’s right. Is there anything surprising? I can hear them with my ears and with my whole body. They make the water osculate and the waves they produce run ahead of them. I feel them and so get my warning.”
“Even when you’re asleep?”
“Of course.”
“But look, what about fishes?”
“Fish are beaten not by a surprise attack but by stronger fish. And I’m stronger than any of them. The fish of prey know it, too. They don’t dare tackle me.”
Zurita’s right: the fellow’s well worth the trouble of getting him, thought Cristo. And he’ll take a lot of getting too. Hearing with his whole body! How do you like that? Nothing short of a damn good trap would get him for us. I must speak to Zurita about it.
“How beautiful the underwater world is! ” Ichthyander was saying. “No, I’d never leave the sea for your stuffy dusty land.”
“Why, isn’t it yours too? You were born on land, weren’t you? Who was your mother?”
“I-I don’t know,” Ichthyander stammered. “Father says my mother died giving me birth.”
“But surely she was a mortal woman and not a fish.”
“Perhaps,” Ichthyander agreed.
Cristo gave a short laugh.
“Now tell me, why did you molest the fishermen, cutting their nets, throwing their catch back into the sea and all that?”
“Because they caught more than they could eat.”
“But they caught fish to sell it.”
Ichthyander did not understand.
“So that other people could eat fish too,” the Indian had to explain.
“Why, are there so many people?” Ichthyander queried in surprise. “Haven’t they got enough animals and birds on land? Why do they have to come to the ocean?”
“Ah, that’s not so easy to explain,” Cristo said with a yawn. “It’s time you were in bed, though. So don’t you go crawling into the bathtub again. Your father will be displeased,” and he went out.
Ichthyander was already gone when Cristo came in early next morning to find a little pool of water on the flagstones.
“Slept in the bathtub again, did he,” the Indian said grumpily. “And then went out to sea.”
Ichthyander was late for his breakfast that day.
He seemed upset over something, the way he poked about with his fork in the plate.
“Roast meat again,” he said.
“That’s right,” Cristo said in a stern voice. “Those are Doctor’s orders. Looks like you’ve been eating raw fish in the sea again. If this goes on much longer you’ll not be able to touch roast meat, much less eat it. And you slept in the bathtub. You’ll get that pain in the sides again, as sure as eggs is eggs. And now you’re late for breakfast. When Doctor comes back I’ll complain to him, see if I don’t. Why, you’ve got quite out of hand lately.”
“Don’t tell him, Cristo. I don’t want to make him sad.” Ichthyander hung his head and was back in his thoughts. Then he suddenly raised his big, now melancholy, eyes at the Indian.
“Listen, Cristo,” he said, “I saw a girl this morning. Never before have I seen anything nearly as beautiful—not even under the waves.”
“So our land is not all that bad after all, eh?” said Cristo.
“I was riding my dolphin when I saw her on the beach near Buenos Aires. She had blue eyes and golden hair.” And he added, “But when she saw me she got frightened and ran away. Oh, why didn’t I take the goggles and gloves off?” After a pause he said in a low voice: “Once I pulled a girl out of the sea. I didn’t notice then what she looked like. What if it’s the same girl? I think I remember that one had golden hair too. Yes, I think she had…” The young man was again lost in thought. Presently he went across to the mirror and for the first time in his life had a good look at himself.
“What did you do after she ran away?”
“I waited, but she never came back, Cristo, is it possible she will never come down to the beach again?”
Perhaps it’s not at all bad that he likes the girl, Cristo thought. Up till now, praise the pleasures of the city as he would, he could not induce Ichthyander to venture as far as Buenos Aires, where his capture would have been no problem for Zurita.
“That’s as may be, but I’ll help you find her. You’ll put on town clothes and well go and look for her in Buenos Aires.”
“I will see her, won’t I?” exclaimed Ichthyander.
“There’re many girls there. With luck you’ll find the one you saw on the beach.”
“Let’s go straightway! Ill ride my dolphin and you’ll walk along the coast.”
“It’s too late. And it’s not all that near on foot.”
“Surely we can make it.”
“Aren’t you eager! ” Cristo said. “We’ll set out together at dawn tomorrow. You’ll swim out into the gulf and I’ll be waiting for you on the beach with the clothes. And I must get them for you first. (I’ll have to call on my brother tonight, thought Cristo). So see you at dawn.”
IN TOWN
When Ichthyander waded out of the water onto the beach early next morning Cristo was already waiting for him with a white suit ready. Ichthyander looked at the suit as if it were a snake’s skin and with a sigh started pulling it on. It was obvious he had had few occasions to dress in a suit before. The Indian helped the amphibian with his tie, looked him over and was pleased with what he saw.
“Let’s go,” he said cheerily.
The Indian wanted to impress Ichthyander, so he took him through the central streets, Avenida de Alvear and Plaza de Vertiz, on to Plaza de la Victoria with the Cathedral and the Town Hall in the Moorish style, then to Plaza del 25 de Mayo* with the Obelisco de la Libertad in the middle of a grove of magnificent trees, topping it all with the Palace of the President.
But Cristo’s little scheme misfired. What with the noise, the never ending stream of city traffic, the heat and the crowds, Ichthyander was utterly bewildered and miserable. In vain he tried to find the girl in the crowd, grabbing Cristo by his arm every now and then and whispering, “That’s her! ” then realizing he was mistaken and again peering into the crowd.
About noon the heat became unbearable. Cristo suggested that they have lunch at a restaurant nearby. It was down in the basement, a cool place, but noisy and close and full of people in cheap soiled clothes, smoking foul cigars. The smoke made Ichthyander gasp for air. To make things worse the men were hotly discussing some piece of news, brandishing crumpled newspapers and bawling out words he didn’t know. Ichthyander drank a lot of iced water but wouldn’t touch his lunch.
A revolutionary junta was formed in La Plata Province on May 25, 1810. Following a victorious uprising the province seceded from Spain and a Provisional government was set up. -Author’s note.
“It’s easier to find a fish in the ocean than a girl in this human whirlpool,” he said sadly. “Your cities are beastly! They’re stuffy and foul. And my sides are aching. I want to go back home, Cristo.”
“All right,” Cristo agreed. “Well only drop in to see a friend of mine and then off we go back home.”
“I don’t want to see any more people.”
“It’s on our way. I won’t be a minute.”
Cristo paid their bill and they emerged into the sun-scorched street. Breathing heavily, his head hanging, Ichthyander plodded after the Indian past cactus-lined white-stone houses, past orchards with peach and olive trees onto Baltasar’s place in the New Port.
With the tang of the sea ever stronger in his nostrils, Ichthyander wished, with a sudden vehemence, he could throw off his clothes and plunge into the water.
“We’re nearly there,” Cristo said glancing apprehensively at his companion.
They crossed a railway line.
“Here we are. This is the place,” said Cristo and led the way down a few steps into a small dark shop.
When Ichthyander’s eyes got used to the semi-darkness he gazed round him in surprise. The shop looked like a corner of the sea. The shelves and even part of the floor were piled high with every variety of shell. Hanging from the ceiling were strings of coral, starfish, dried-up crabs, and stuffed fish. There were pearls in glass cases arranged to form a counter. One of these displayed pink pearls, “angels’ skin”, as they are called by divers. Ichthyander felt more at ease amidst things he knew so well.
“Have a rest, it’s cool and quiet down here,” Cristo said helping the young man into an old wicker chair.
“Baltasar! Gutierrez! ” the Indian called.
“That you, Cristo?” a voice came from behind the door. “Come in here.”
Cristo lowered his head to pass into the other room.
It was Baltasar’s laboratory. It was here he restored to pearls the lustre they are apt to lose through dampness, by bathing them in a weak solution of acid. Cristo shut the door tight behind him. The dim light that filtered in through a small window high up a wall revealed the flasks and glass tanks standing on an old deal table black with long use.
“Hullo, brother. Where’s Gutierrez?”
“Gone to the neighbour for the iron. Nothing but lace and ribbon on her mind. She’ll be back any minute, though.”
“And where’s Zurita?” asked Cristo, impatiently.
“Hasn’t shown up yet, damn his eyes. Had a bit of a row yesterday, we did.”
“Over Gutierrez?”
“Yes. He laid himself out to woo her. But she wouldn’t have him. Now what can I do with her? She’s no end wilful and stubborn. She is that. Thinks herself a cut above everybody else. She just can’t understand that any Indian girl, fair or ugly, would jump at the idea of marrying a man like Zurita, with a schooner and a team of pearl-divers of his own,” Baltasar grumbled, dumping a new batch of pearls into the tank. “He’s somewhere trying to drown his annoyance in wine, I suppose.”
“But what shall we do?”
“You brought him?”
“There he is.”
Baltasar stepped to the door and bent down to the keyhole.
“I can’t see him,” he said softly.
“He’s sitting over at the counter.”
“I can’t see him. There’s only Gutierrez there.”
Baltasar flung the door open and entered the shop followed closely by Cristo.
Ichthyander was not there. In the dark corner stood Gutierrez, Baltasar’s adopted daughter, famed far beyond the New Port for her beauty. A shy girl with a head of her own, she had no lack of suitors but gave all of them her “no”, firm and sonorous.
Pedro Zurita had cast his eye on her one day and wanted, her ever since for his wife. And old Baltasar was not averse to become his father-in-law-and partner.
But all Zurita’s advances met the same sonorous, firm “no”.
When her father and Cristo came in the girl was standing still, her head drooping.
“Hullo, Gutierrez,” said Cristo.
“Where’s the young man?” asked Baltasar.
“I don’t hide young men,” she said and smiled. “When I entered he looked at me in a funny way, as if afraid or something, rose up, then clutched at his chest and tore out. Before I knew it he was up the steps and gone.”
So she was the girl, thought Cristo.
BACK IN THE SEA
Breathing in painful gasps Ichthyander ran along the road that skirted the sea-front. As soon as he was out of that dreadful city he left the road and headed straight for the beach. Taking shelter behind an outcropping of rock he peeled off his suit, hid it among the stones, ran to the water’s edge and plunged in.
Exhausted as he was, he had never swum so quickly before. Fish scattered away out of his path in fright. It was only after he had put a few miles between himself and the city that he slowed down and turned close inshore. Here he was at home. He knew every stone, every crevice on the sea-bed. Right below him spread flat on the sandy floor lived sedate turbot; over there grew red bushes of coral, a hiding place for small red-finned fish. Two families of octopuses, shared that fishing boat wreck-and, incidentally, there had been a recent increase in their families, too. Those grey stones were the haunt of crabs. Ichthyander could watch them for hours, delighting in their small joys of a lucky hunt or sympathizing with their little griefs—of a nipper lost or an octopus invading. And the offshore rocks marked the breeding grounds of innumerable oysters.
&nb
sp; When he was near the gulf he at last broke water and looked round. Seeing a school of dolphins gambolling among the waves he gave a shout. A large dolphin snorted gaily by way of acknowledgement and headed for his friend, his sleek, shiny back now disappearing in the waves, now rising above the surface again.
“Come on, Leading, be smart about it,” Ichthyander was shouting as he swam out to meet the dolphin. Presently he had a hold of it, and without stopping, “Off we go! ” he urged.
Obedient to the young man’s guiding hand the dolphin turned for the open sea and dashed forward in the teeth of wind and waves. The animal churned the water as it cleaved its way through the waves and spread a fantail of foaming wash behind it, but Ichthyander was not to be satisfied. He kept urging his mount on.
“Come on, Leading, faster! “
The dolphin’s sides were heaving heavily when Ichthyander put a sudden stop to the race, although still far from being his calmer self. He just slipped off the glistening back down into the water and was gone, leaving his friend behind in utter bewilderment. The dolphin waited a moment, snorted, dived and immediately reappeared, then gave another snort of displeasure, canted sharply and headed shorewards, glancing back from time to time. The amphibian was not to be seen anywhere, so Leading joined its school. Meanwhile Ichthyander was going deeper and deeper, down into the gloomy depths of the ocean. All that he had seen and heard that day was so unexpected, so beyond the beat of his experience, that he wanted to be alone. He was going deeper and deeper down, oblivious of the danger of it. He wanted to be alone to try and understand why he was so different from everybody else, why he was a stranger to both land and sea.
Then he slowed down his dive. The water had become denser, it pressed on him, making breathing increasingly difficult. A greyish-green pall cloaked everything around. Sea-creatures were fewer here and mostly unfamiliar to Ichthyander:
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