Page 1016 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

crocodile bite the fluke of an anchor same as I chew that
quid.
He took out of his mouth the pulpy quid and, lodging
it between his teeth, bit ferociously:

—Khaan! Like that. And I seen maneaters in Peru that
eats corpses and the livers of horses. Look here. Here they
are. A friend of mine sent me.
He fumbled out a picture postcard from his inside
pocket which seemed to be in its way a species of
repository and pushed it along the table. The printed
matter on it stated: Choza de Indios. Beni, Bolivia.
All focussed their attention at the scene exhibited, a
group of savage women in striped loincloths, squatted,
blinking, suckling, frowning, sleeping amid a swarm of
infants (there must have been quite a score of them)
outside some primitive shanties of osier.
—Chews coca all day, the communicative tarpaulin
added. Stomachs like breadgraters. Cuts off their diddies
when they can’t bear no more children.
See them sitting there stark ballocknaked eating a dead
horse’s liver raw.
His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs
the greenhorns for several minutes if not more.
—Know how to keep them off? he inquired generally.

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