“How horrible!” cried Rob.
“Ay, ’tis, sir, or seems so to us; but it’s nature’s way of clearing off all the sickly and wounded things from the face of the earth.”
“But what will dare to attack such a terrible beast?”
Shaddy chuckled.
“Anything—everything, sir; little and big. Why, them little pirani fishes will be at him in thousands, and there’s ’gators enough within fifty yards to make a supper of him as if he was spitchcocked eel. Ah! there he goes—part of him’s in the water already; but I should have liked the master to have his skin.”
Invisible though the serpent was, its course was evident by the rustling and movement of the growth, and some idea too was gained of the reptile’s length.
“There! what did I say?” shouted Shaddy excitedly, as all at once there was the sound of splashing and agitation in the water down beneath the submerged trees; and directly after the serpent’s tail rose above the trunk of one of those lying prone, and gleamed and glistened in the blaze as it undulated and bent and twined about. Then it fell with a splash, and beat the water, rose again quivering seven or eight feet in the air, while the water all around seemed terribly agitated. There was a snapping sound, too, horribly ominous in its nature, and the rushing and splashing went on as the tail of the serpent fell suddenly, rose once more as if the rest of the long lithe body were held below, and finally disappeared, while the splashing continued for a few minutes longer before all was silent.
Rob drew a long breath, and Joe shuddered.
“Well,” said Shaddy quietly, “that’s just how you take it, young gentlemen. Seems so horrible because it was a big serpent. If it had been a worm six inches long you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Look at my four chaps there: they don’t take any notice—don’t seem horrid to them. You’ll get used to it.”
“Impossible!” said Brazier.