“Well, Nat,” said my uncle, “if he will only fight half as well as that when we encounter the serpent, there ought to be nothing to fear. We ought to master the brute easily.”
“Would such a serpent be very strong, uncle?” I asked.
“Wonderfully strong,” he replied. “Their muscles are tremendously powerful. See what strength anything of similar form possesses; an eel, for instance.”
“Yes, uncle,” I said thoughtfully, as I recalled how difficult I had once found it to hold a large one that I had caught. “Eels are very strong.”
“Look here, Nat,” said my uncle kindly, “I don’t think we should run any risks in following up this serpent, for one good shot would disable it; but still it may be a little perilous, and it is not just to expect a boy of your age to face such a danger. You stop back at a distance, and I will send Ebo into the marsh to drive it out, while I try to get a shot at it.”
“Oh, no, uncle!” I said quickly.
“Come now, my boy,” he cried, clapping me on the shoulder. “You are going because you think I shall consider you cowardly if you stay behind. I tell you truly, Nat, I shall not.”
“I did feel something of that kind, uncle,” I said warmly; “but that is not all. I want to try and be brave and to master all my cowardly feelings, and this seems such a chance.”
He stood looking at me for a few minutes, and then said quietly:
“Very well then, Nat, you shall come. But be careful with your gun, and do not fire unless you have a clear shot. Don’t hurry, and mind that Ebo is not near. As to the danger,” he said, “there is very little. The worst thing that could happen would be that the serpent might seize you.”