“Yes,” said Brace, “but I hope they’re not going to be long with that rope. I say, any fear of Indians about here?”
“Hi! look out!” cried one of the sailors, calling to Brace and the others from where they were dividing the thick growth and peering about trying to see what was beyond.
Three guns sent forth a clicking sound on the instant, as those who bore them turned to face the expected danger.
Brace’s nerves quivered with excitement as he listened for the whizz of the arrows he expected to hear rush by.
“Give him another shot in the head, sir,” cried one of the men; “he’s trying to wriggle himself back into the water.”
Brace raised his gun to fire a charge into the serpent’s head again, for sure enough the monster was gliding slowly back through the undergrowth into the stream.
But the men did not wait for him to fire. Following Dan’s example and setting aside all their horror and repugnance as they saw the reptile gliding back slowly into the river, they acted as if moved by the same set of muscles, and threw themselves upon the long lithe creature.
“Now then, lads, take a good grip of him,” cried Dan, “and we’ll run him up the bank as far as we can. Ugh!”
His mates backed him up well, seizing the serpent just behind the wounded head with powerful hands; but just as they had taken a firm hold and were about to put their plan into action, a tremendous thrill seemed to run from tail to head of the reptile as an eddy whirled up the water, and they let go and sprang away.
“Ah, catch hold again,” cried Brace, dropping his gun and darting at the serpent, but before he could reach it the movement had become quicker, and they had the mortification of seeing their prize pass steadily backward under the bushes, and in spite of the renewed efforts of the men the half-crushed head reached the water, gliding down out of sight, and staining the surface with blood.