“He’s been gammoning on us, sir,” said Bostock to the doctor.
“I haven’t! I wouldn’t play such a trick,” cried Carey, indignantly. “There was a great crocodile that looked five-and-twenty or thirty feet long lying close to the water when I signed to you both to come. It wasn’t twenty feet away.”
“Where ’bouts were it, then, sir?” growled the old fellow, only half-convinced.
“Come and see,” cried Carey, and he hurried round the rock, followed by his companions; but there was apparently no sign of any reptile, till the doctor pointed to a great groove in the soft dry sand.
“Yes, that’s where he was,” cried Carey. “Ah! and look here. You can see the marks of his paws.”
“I see,” cried the doctor. “Yes, Carey, it must have been a monster.”
“Pst! pst!” whispered Bostock, raising his gun, and pointing away to their right.
“Don’t fire,” said the doctor, hurriedly; “those small shot cartridges are of no use. See it, Carey?”
“No! Where?”
“Yonder, floating and looking this way. You can only see the monster’s eyes.”