“Gone,” whispered Rob. “No; there it is on that branch where it is so dark.”
“I see him,” said Shaddy in a subdued tone. “Ought to have known. Now then, your bow and arrows! That’s a skinful of good meat for us. You won’t mind shooting that?”
“No,” said Rob, quickly fitting an arrow to the string, “I don’t mind shooting that. But not to eat, thank you.”
“You will not be so particular soon. That’s iguana, and as good as chicken. Ready?”
Rob nodded.
“Keep behind the trees, then, and creep slowly forward till you are pretty close—I daresay you’ll be able to—and then aim at his shoulder, and send the arrow right through.”
“I will,” said Rob drily, “if I can.”
“Make up your mind to it, my lad. We want that sort of food.”
“You may,” thought Rob as he began to stalk the curious old-world, dragon-like beast, which was running about the boughs of a great tree in complete ignorance of the neighbourhood of human beings, probably even of their existence.
The lad’s heart beat heavily as he crept from tree to tree in full want of faith as to his ability to draw a bow-string with effect; for his experience only extended to watching ladies shooting at targets in an archery meeting; and as he drew nearer, stepping very softly from shelter to shelter and then peering out to watch the reptile, he had an admirable opportunity for noting its shape and peculiarities, none of which created an appetite for trying its chicken-like flesh. He gazed at a formidable-looking animal with wide mouth, a hideous pouch beneath its jaw, and a ridge of sharp-looking, teeth-like spines along its back ending in a long, fine, bony tail. These, with its fierce eye and scaly skin, and a habit of inflating itself, made it appear an object which might turn and attack an aggressor.