"Oh, I say, don't—don't!" panted Harry, who was choking with laughter.
"Then will you leave off playing such tricks?"
"Yes, yes—please, please!" cried Harry. "Oh, don't; it hurts."
"I know: it'll be like that fable of the shepherd boy and the wolf.
Some day he'll come and no one will run."
"I don't care, so long as you leave off thumping me with that gun. Don't, Phra, old chap," he added, growing serious; "it's dangerous to play with guns."
"It's too bad," said Phra. "I thought the beast was jumping on to us.
What a pity, though! All that powder and shot wasted for nothing."
"The bullets were too small, Sahib," said Sree; "but I'm afraid you could never have killed that crocodile."
"Oh, nonsense!" cried Harry; "bullets would have done it."
Sree shook his head solemnly.
"Look at him, Phra. I did think he was sensible."