The spot where it landed was fairly open, and in the excitement caused by the adventure the boat, which was always kept towing behind the brig, was manned.
Brace, the American, Dan, the second mate, and four men followed to get a good opportunity for putting the reptile out of its misery when it had about half-crawled out among the bushes.
A well-placed shot in the head effected this, and the body lay heaving gently while the party landed. The question was then eagerly discussed what should be done.
“We ought to have that skin,” said Brace. “It is an enormous brute. Why, judging from what we can see, it must be thirty feet long.”
“Say forty,” cried Briscoe, laughing. “But who’s to skin it?”
The question was received in dead silence, everyone gazing down at the slowly-heaving monster, about ten feet of the fore part of its body lying where it had crawled, and it was easy enough to believe that another twenty or thirty feet of the creature lay out of sight in the muddy water.
“I wouldn’t do that job for a crown,” whispered one of the men to another, and a chorus of grunts followed.
“Well,” said Lynton, “who is going to volunteer? Mr Brace wants that skin taken off. We must have a rope round the beggar’s neck, throw one end over one of the branches of a tree, and then we can haul him up higher and higher as we peel him down from the head.”
“And suppose he begins to twissen himself up in a knot and lash out with his tail?” growled one of the men.
“Bah!” cried Lynton. “Here, a couple of you row back to the brig and get a coil of rope. I’ll skin the brute myself if someone will help me to do the job.”