In spite of his reverence for the crocodile Chebron did not hesitate a moment, but rushing forward smote the crocodile on the nose with all his strength with the shaft of his spear. The crocodile dropped its victim and turned upon its assailant, but Jethro and Amuba were close behind, and these also attacked him. The crocodile seeing this accession of enemies now set out for the river, snapping its jaws together.
“Mind its tail!” one of the hunters exclaimed, running up.
But the warning was too late, for the next moment Amuba received a tremendous blow which sent him to the ground. The hunter at the same moment plunged his spear into the animal through the soft skin at the back of its leg. Jethro followed his example on the other side. The animal checked its flight, and turning round and round lashed with its tail in all directions.
“Keep clear of it!” the hunter shouted. “It is mortally wounded and will need no more blows.”
In fact, the crocodile had received its death-wound. Its movements became more languid, it ceased to lash its tail, though it still snapped at those nearest to it, but gradually this action also ceased, its head sank, and it was dead. Jethro as soon as he had delivered his blow ran to Amuba.
“Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.
“No, I don’t think so,” Amuba gasped. “The brute has knocked all the breath out of my body; but that’s better than if he had hit me in the leg, for I think he would have broken it had he done so. How is the woman—is she dead?”
“I have not had time to see,” Jethro replied. “Let me help you to your feet, and let us see if any of your ribs are broken. I will see about her afterward.”
Amuba on getting up declared that he did not think he was seriously hurt, although unable for the time to stand upright.
“I expect I am only bruised, Jethro. It was certainly a tremendous whack he gave me, and I expect I shall not be able to take part in any sporting for the next few days. The crocodile was worth a dozen hippopotami. There was some courage about him.”