“I have hooked something big,” gasped the girl.
“But let it go, Mary, let it go!” cried Topsie and Freddy in one breath. At the same time Sir Francis, Lady Vane, and Aniwee came running up.
“I can’t,” again gasped the girl; “the line is tied to my wrist, and I can’t break it.”
As she spoke she was almost dragged under by the force of the animal, whatever it might be, which she had hooked to her line, and for a second her head was entirely submerged. In a moment Harry had jumped in to help her, followed by Freddy. It was lucky they did so, for the furious captive had begun lashing the water, and doing its utmost to drag its captor below, and if Mary had not been a strong, muscular girl she must have succumbed. As it was, when Harry and Freddy swam to her side and grasped the line, it was all the united three could accomplish to prevent themselves being towed down stream.
At this juncture Piñone came running up with a lasso, followed by the rest of the Indians, and Shag, who had been off on a private hunt of his own, put in an appearance. Topsie at once called him, and putting the noose end of the lasso in his mouth, bade him swim with it to Harry. The good dog at once obeyed, and the lad, on receiving it, slipped it over Mary’s shoulders, and bade Freddy catch hold of it as well as the line. He then proceeded to do the same himself, after which he called to those on land to haul in. They responded with a will, but the burden was heavy, and the strain very great. Yet the good lasso held out stoutly, and presently all were landed.
Poor Mary’s wrist was considerably lacerated by the line, from which she was at once freed, and then began the business of landing the big catch, still a mystery to every one.
It resisted to its utmost, lashing the water furiously, and swirling to and fro like a very torpedo, but it was no match for twenty strong pair of arms, and was finally brought to the surface amidst the shouts of the Indians, the cries of astonishment of the children, and the loud barkings of Shag. Amidst this pandemonium of noises the wretched monster was landed from the cool waters of that river, to which it was never destined to return.
With the instincts of true humanity, Sir Francis at once put an end to its life by a blow from his hatchet on its head, and then every one crowded round to inspect the extraordinary creature, the like of which had never been seen by any of those present before. It was truly a monster and a monstrosity as well.
Its head was broad and flat, and the skull stood forward over the beast’s eyes like a cap. These eyes were small and fiery-looking, and the mouth, which it had unclosed in its death gasp, was ornamented with two rows of thin sharp pointed teeth, very like French nails in appearance. Its body was about six feet long, between an eel and serpent in shape, and about two feet in diameter. The skin, however, was not smooth, like either the former or the latter, but scaly, and very similar to the mailed coat of a crocodile, and apparently of extreme toughness, for the axe blow dealt by Sir Francis had inflicted no mark thereon, though the force thereof had killed the life in the monster’s body.
“Well, Mary, if I ever—no, Mary, no I never!” sang out Harry as he looked at his pretty cousin, who had been instrumental in bringing to light this extraordinary animal; “talk of sea-monsters and sea-serpents, I call this the most diabolical serpent I ever saw in my life. What is your opinion, Shag?”