He laughed merrily as he said this.
“That’s true enough, my lad, for they wants both land and water. I’ve seen ’em crawl into a pool and curl themselves up quite comfortable at the bottom and lie for hours together. You could see ’em with the water clear as cryschial. Other times they seem to like to be in the sun. But wait a bit, and I’ll show ’em to you, ugly beggars, although they’re not so very dangerous after all. Always seemed as scared of me as I was of—hist! don’t move. Just cast your eye round a bit to starboard and look along the shore.”
Rob turned his eye quickly, and saw a couple of almost naked Indians standing on an open patch beneath the trees, each holding a long, thin lance in his hand. They were watching the water beneath the bank very attentively, as if in search of something, just where quite a field of lilies covered the river, leaving only a narrow band clear, close to the bank.
“Don’t take no notice of ’em,” said Shaddy; “they’re going fishing.”
“Wish them better luck than I’ve had,” said Rob. “Fishing! Those are their rods, then; I thought they were spears.”
“So they are, my lad,” whispered Shaddy. “They’re off. No fish there.”
As he spoke the two living-bronze figures disappeared among the trees as silently as they had come.
“Of course there are no fish,” said Rob wearily as he drew in his baitless line, the strong gimp hook being quite bare. “Hullo, here comes Joe!”