“And swim,” cried Jack. “I did not see that fellow in the water.”
For one had suddenly appeared from behind a rock about a dozen yards from the sandy shore. It was swimming as easily as a dog, in spite of what old proverbs say about pigs and the water, and it was evidently making eager efforts to reach the sands and rush after its companions, which had probably been making a breakfast off shell-fish, and were now disappearing among the trees.
“Ah! look at that,” cried the doctor.
For suddenly the pig threw up its head, screaming dismally, and pawing at the air.
“Stupid thing! it could have reached the sands in another half-minute.”
“It won’t now,” said the doctor, reaching back to pick up his double gun.
“Let’s row and try and save it from drowning,” cried Jack eagerly.
“It isn’t drowning,” said the doctor quietly. “Look! there it goes.”
Still squealing horribly, the unfortunate little animal suddenly seemed to make a dart backward several yards farther from the shore, but with its head getting lower, till the water rose above its ears, and as it still glided farther, less and less was visible, till only its wail-producing snout was above the surface.
“Poor wretch! it must be in a terrible current,” cried Jack. “Row, row, row.”