“Gone to get their spears. We’re going to have him out now.”
“And we’re nearest!” cried Ned.
“Yes. Afraid? Shall we go back?”
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“More don’t I,” said Ned, desperately.
“It’s all right,” said Frank. “We can run out of his way if he makes a jump at us. You’ll easily know if he’s going to. You’ll see him hump up his back if he’s going to rush at us. But what you’ve got to mind is his tail. He’ll try, as I told you, to flip you into the water. He may break your legs. Now then, be ready for a good haul. Here they are with their spears.”
The four men came back, two going on each side of the rope toward the bank, and standing ready with their weapons to try to plunge them into the reptile’s throat. Then the principal Malay said a few words, uttered a shout, and the strain was increased a little, then a little more, as the creature began to be drawn nearer the bank; then they moved faster and faster, Ned wondering whether the rope and hook would stand; and as he ran on with the men, he looked back and saw the reptile’s head with its jaws wide appear above the muddy bank, then its fore-paws were over, and the next moment it was gliding over the grass, striking right and left with head and tail; while, as it was dragged right away from the river, and the men paused, it raised itself up high on its feet, arching up its back like an angry toad of monstrous dimensions, and snapped its jaws.
“Pretty darlin’!” cried Tim. “Oh, how proud his mother must be. Look at his smile.”
Frank uttered a triumphant shout, and Ned joined in, but only feebly, for he was too much excited and on the watch for a charge from their captive.