The order was obeyed by hand, and the kegs, illumined by the light cast upon them by the lanthorn, were drawn right up to the halting-place.
“Don’t cheer, boys,” said the doctor, anticipating a shout. “Here, Griggs,” he continued, “let’s have a little sand over the chain where you cut that horrible reptile away.”
“Hold the light a little lower, sir,” said the American. “It’s all right,” he added the next minute, after the light had played over the connecting-links of the two kegs. “Sand’s cleared it all away as they came. They’re as clean as can be. I can’t see anything on the rope or hook either.”
“Was there one on it?” asked Chris eagerly.
“Yes, a big ’un,” replied Griggs. “He’d tied himself in a tight knot close round the hook and the chain.”
“It must have been that he was crushed when the kegs were first moved,” said the doctor.
“Nay, sir; I fancy that it was when I hooked the chain. I fancy I must have caught him fast and dragged him close up.”
“And then, in resentment,” said the doctor, “the beast twined itself up tightly;—just like an eel on a night-line, boys,” he added.
“Did you cut it away, Griggs?” asked Chris.
“Yes. I just slipped the point of my knife in between two of his coils twice over, gave a sharp push, and he dropped down wriggling at once.”