“Why, what’s the matter, lad? They haven’t put any poison stuff in your victuals, have they?”
Joe made no reply, but sat staring wildly still, not at Shaddy, but in the direction of the river beyond.
“What’s the matter, my lad?” said Brazier.
“I know!” cried Shaddy; “where’s your guns? It’s them ’gators coming up out of the water, and it’s what I expected.”
“No, no,” whispered the boy excitedly: “look lower!”
All followed his pointing finger, but for the moment they could see nothing, one of the men having thrown some fresh fuel upon the fire, which was emitting more smoke than blaze.
“Hi! one of you!” cried Shaddy, “stir that fire.”
One of the men seized the end of a burning limb, shook it about a little, and a roar of flame ascended skyward, lighting up the river and the trees beyond, but above all, striking just upon the rotten trunk through which Rob fell. There they saw a something glistening and horrible, as it swayed and undulated and rose and fell, with its neck all waves and its eyes sparkling in the golden blaze of the fire. Now it sank down till it was almost hidden among the parasitic plants; now it slowly rose, arching its neck, and apparently watching the party near the fire; while moment by moment its aspect was so menacing that Joe thought it would launch itself upon them and seize one to appease its rage.
“It’s—it’s come back!” he whispered faintly.
“Not it,” growled Shaddy; “this one’s twice as big as t’other. It’s its father or mother, p’r’aps. Better have a shot at it, sir.”