"That was near, Phra," said Harry.
"Yes; the hideous wretch! the beast!" hissed the Siamese lad through his teeth, and followed it up with another loud, hollow, hissing noise from the barrel of his gun, as he rammed a wad down upon the powder. "Let's go on and kill him. Such a wretch ought not to live and destroy everything he can reach along the banks. Oh, how I wish we had some big bullets! I'd half fill the gun."
"Then I'm glad you have none, old chap," said Harry.
"Why?" cried Phra, pausing, ramrod in hand.
"You ought to know by now. Burst the gun."
"Nearly ready, Sahib?" cried Sree. "He's pulling harder, and I'm afraid of the rope breaking."
"Not quite," said Phra, but a minute later, "Let's stand a bit farther back, Hal. Now, Sree, pull."
There was another steady draw upon the rope, which ran out now quite at right angles with the stage, and in an instant it was responded to by a tremendous rush. The water rose in a wave, then parted, as the open jaws of the crocodile appeared, coming right at them. The next moment the landing-stage quivered and rocked, for it was as if a tree-trunk had struck it right at the edge. Then there was a splash which sent the water flying all over the edifice, and all was still.
The reptile's charge had its effect, for as it fell back into the water the three Siamese rose to their feet from where they had flung themselves off from the staging in among the flowering bushes, and Harry and Phra sat up on the path which led into the garden.
"Oh, what a beast!" cried Phra, rubbing himself. "I hate him, oh, ten thousand times worse now!"