“Better come and give a hand here, Mr Carey, sir,” cried Bostock. “I ought to guide him a bit and make, him tow us our way so as to get him ashore. What do you say to the mouth of the river? If we could get him to run up there it would be splendid.”
“And what about the crocodiles, Bob?”
“Eh? Ah! I forgot all about them, sir. Never mind; anywhere ’ll do. That’s right, sir; lay hold. Strong a’most as a helephant, aren’t he? Wo ho! my lad. Don’t be in a flurry. Well, I am blest!”
One minute they were gliding steadily over the lagoon; the next the rope hung loosely in their hands.
“Lost him?” said the doctor.
“Yes, sir. We must have pulled one of his fins out. Dessay we’ve got it here.”
“The rope slipped over it, Bob,” said Carey, in disappointed tones, as the noose was hauled aboard. “Oh, we ought to have had that. It was a beauty.”
“Never mind,” said the doctor. “Steer for the shore, and let’s get off on our trip.”
Bostock turned to his steering oar and shook his head in a very discontented way.
“It’s just as I said about the pearls, Master Carey; it don’t do to reckon on anything till you get it. But I ought to have had that chap.”