was infested with caymans, so huge and voracious that they attacked
bankas and upset them with a slap of the tail. Our chronicles relate
that one day an infidel Chinaman, who up to that time had refused to be
converted, was passing in front of the church, when suddenly the devil
presented himself to him in the form of a cayman and upset the banka,
in order to devour him and carry him off to hell. Inspired by God,
the Chinaman at that moment called upon St. Nicholas and instantly
the cayman was changed into a stone. The old people say that in
their time the monster could easily be recognized in the pieces of
stone that were left, and, for my part, I can assure you that I have
clearly made out the head, to judge from which the monster must have
been enormously large."

"Marvelous, a marvelous legend!" exclaimed Ben-Zayb. "It's good for an
article--the description of the monster, the terror of the Chinaman,
the waters of the river, the bamboo brakes. Also, it'll do for a study
of comparative religions; because, look you, an infidel Chinaman in
great distress invoked exactly the saint that he must know only by
hearsay and in whom he did not believe. Here there's no room for the
proverb that 'a known evil is preferable to an unknown good.' If I
should find myself in China and get caught in such a difficulty, I
would invoke the obscurest saint in the calendar before Confucius or
Buddha. Whether this is due to the manifest superiority of Catholicism
or to the inconsequential and illogical inconsistency in the brains
of the yellow race, a profound study of anthropology alone will be
able to elucidate."

Ben-Zayb had adopted the tone of a lecturer and was describing
circles in the air with his forefinger, priding himself on his
imagination, which from the most insignificant facts could deduce