Carey went on, but so as to follow the glistening creature he had seen disappear, cocking his gun for a shot if he had a chance.
The chance came the next minute, but he was not able to take advantage of it, for on turning one of the black masses of slag which looked as if it had lately come from a furnace, the great lizard was started again, and what followed was over in a few seconds, for the lithe, active creature turned threateningly upon its pursuer with jaws thrown open, and it looked startling enough in its grey, glistening armour as it menaced the lad, who stood aghast—but only to be brought to a knowledge of his position by the attack which followed.
It was no snapping or seizing, but there was a sharp whistling sound and, quick as lightning, the long, tapering thin tail crooked twice round Carey’s legs, making him utter a cry of pain, for it was as if he had been flogged sharply with a whip of wire.
The next minute the great lizard had disappeared.
“Why didn’t you shoot?” said the doctor.
“Hadn’t time. Oh, how it did hurt! Why, it was like steel.”
“Never mind; you must be quicker next time, but I daresay there will be marks left.”
“And Bob’s laughing at it,” said the boy, in an ill-used tone. “Here, you had better lead.”
“Never mind, lead on,” said the doctor; “the smarting will soon pass off. It is not like a poisonous bite.”
All the same the whip-like strokes stung and smarted terribly, as the boy went on again, vowing vengeance mentally against the very next lizard he saw.