I went very cautiously, with my eyes scanning the spot eagerly, for at very little distance the reptiles would be invisible from the way in which their scales assimilated with the earth. But, though I used every caution, I saw no wavy or coiled up serpent asleep, nor caught sight of a tail rapidly following its owner in amongst the stunted herbage and stones.
“Getting scarcer,” I said to myself, as I turned off again, and made for a faint track between the trees—a seldom-used path, leading on to the edge of the swamp that bordered the little river running down to the great tidal stream, which came from far away to the north-west among the mountains.
For a time, as I went on peering here and there, I forgot all about my first intention, but it came back strongly as I reached a natural opening, and once more passed out of the shade, which seemed streaked with threads of silver where the sun-rays darted through, and stood looking down at the broad, glistening, shallow pool, where we boys had often bathed.
The place looked beautiful as ever; the water wonderfully clear. Small fish darted away at my approach, and took refuge in the reeds and grass at the side, or in the broad patch of water-growth in one corner some twenty yards across.
There was the dead tree on my side of the pool, which was about sixty yards in length, and looked as tempting a spot for a bath as can be imagined.
The heat was growing oppressive, but the air was beautifully pure and clear; and the insects which darted about flashed in the sunshine, and kept up a continuous hum that was soothing and pleasant, as I began to take off my clothes, enjoying the sensation of the hot sun pouring its heat down upon my skin.
“I wish Pomp was here,” I said to myself; and as I said those words, I burst out into a hearty fit of laughter, as in imagination I saw his black face shining in the water, and the great drops standing like pearls in his woolly head.
My thoughts did not promise him much enjoyment in his bath, for divers ideas connected with ducking, splashing, and the like occurred to me, the more forcibly from the fact, that though Pomp swam admirably, it was after the fashion of a duck, and not of a fish, for he never, if he could possibly help it, put his head under water.
I was half undressed, when I caught a glimpse of a good-sized pike, slowly rising to the surface to bask, and stooping down, and picking up the stick I had brought with me—a good stout piece of hickory nearly six feet long—I drew back a little, stole gently along the edge of the pool till I deemed myself about opposite, and then raising the stick with both hands, stole forward, to deal a heavy blow at the fish, trusting that if I missed it the stroke on the water might paralyse it, until I had had time to hook it ashore.
“Don’t see why a crack with a stick should not do as well as an alligator’s tail,” I said to myself.