For at that moment the reptile crawled a little further from the water, raised its head, and looked to right and left, and then subsided again in the hot sunshine, sinking partially into the mud.
“Rummy sort o’ tree that, eh, Billy?” said Smith.
“Sort o’ tree!” cried Wriggs, in a tone of thorough disgust. “Why, I call it a himposition. What does a thing mean by going on like that? I could ha’ sweered as it warn’t alive.”
“Hold your row, the gents is a-going to shoot.”
They stood watching, for Drew had been busy changing one of the cartridges in his gun for another containing a ball.
“It’s of no use to shoot it,” said Oliver, “and I don’t think you could hit it in a vital place.”
“I’m going to try,” said Drew quietly, as Panton followed his example.
“Yes,” said the latter, “if we are to stay in this island or whatever it is, we can’t afford to share the place with a creature like that. These things are very dangerous.”
“Hist! Tommy,” whispered Wriggs, excitedly, “he can hear what they says, and he don’t believe they can hit him and hurt him. Did yer see him smile?”
“Well, I call it a laugh, matey. Yes, they’ve got a nice open sort o’ countenance, them crockydiles. What a time it must take’m to clean their teeth of a morning!”