Chapter Seventy Six.
An Unexpected Escape.
The great reptile had already displayed more than a third of its hideous body, that kept constantly thickening as it rose over the butt-end of the log; and still the tapuyo appeared irresolute. In a whisper, Trevannion suggested their taking to the water.
“No, patron; anything but that. It would just be what the sucuruju would like. In the water it would be at home, and we should not. We should there be entirely at his mercy.”
“But are we not now?”
“Not yet,—not yet,—stay!” From the fresh confidence with which he spoke, it was evident some plan had suggested itself. “Hand me over that monkey!” he said; and when he took the ape in his arms, and advanced some paces along the log, they guessed for what the pet was destined,—to distract the attention of the anaconda, by securing for it a meal!
Under other circumstances, Tom might have interfered to prevent the sacrifice. As it was, he could only regard it with a sigh, knowing it was necessary to his own salvation.
As Munday, acting in the capacity of a sort of high-priest, advanced along the log, the demon to whom the oblation was to be made, and which he still fancied might be the Spirit of the Waters, paused in its approach, and, raising its head, gave out a horrible hiss.
In another instant the coaita was hurled through the air, and fell right before it. Rapidly drawing back its head, and opening wide its serrated jaws, the serpent struck out with the design of seizing the offering. But the ape, with characteristic quickness, perceived the danger; and, before a tooth could be inserted into its skin, it sprang away, and, scampering up the mast, left Munday face to face with the anaconda, that now advanced rapidly upon him who had endeavoured to make use of such a substitute.