Better than he expected. The large snake was writhing and twining about in the water, and splashing it with blows from its tail, but the others had disappeared, and the mate had dropped down into the boat, and taken up the long-handled gaff-hook.
“Mind what you’re about, Bartlett,” cried the captain. “Don’t lift it into the boat while it’s so lively.”
“I’ll take care,” was the reply, and after giving the gig a thrust which sent it near enough, the mate watched his opportunity, and lowering the hook made a snatch with it, catching the snake somewhere about the middle.
The touch seemed to fill the reptile full of animation, and quick as thought it twined itself in a knot about the hook, bit at it, and began lashing at the strong ash pole with its tail.
“Don’t be rash, Bartlett,” cried the captain. “We mustn’t have any accidents. There, keep the end down in the water while Mr Meadows here gives it the other barrel.”
“Fire at it again?” said Jack, who was full of excitement.
“Yes; give it him and finish him off,” cried the doctor.
Jack raised the piece again, and it was none too soon, for the serpent was beginning to make its way along the pole toward the mate’s hands, while it held on by tightening the folds of the lower part of its body.
The lad took aim at the knot twined round the hook, and then shivered as he saw the head of the dangerous beast gliding, or more correctly thrust along the ash handle, and changing the direction of the muzzle of the piece a little to the left, he once more fired, when the snake’s head fell with a splash into the sea, the tight knot about the hook relaxed, the tail fell limply, and writhing with a feeble motion, the two ends hanging down together, prevented from falling by one twist round the gaff.
“Bravo! well done, Jack!” cried the doctor. “I say, my lad, if you begin by shooting like that you’ll turn out a good shot. Now, Bartlett, let’s have the beast on board and see what it’s like.”