“Vot vas der matter?” wailed the floundering Dutch boy. “Vhy didt you not assistance gif me? Pimepy I vill pite dot eel, undt it vill poison me!”
After a time he succeeded in tearing the root away and flinging it aside, following which he rolled over and over to escape from the thing he feared so much. The whole affair was intensely ludicrous.
Trembling and panting, Carl got upon his feet and ran a short distance, only to trip and fall with a crash that brought a puffing grunt from his lips.
“It seems too bad,” said Stone; “but, still, I can’t help laughing.”
“Oh, yah!” raged the frightened lad, sitting up and glaring at Ben. “It peen funny to see an eels choke somepody plack undt plue, ain’t it? Go ahead undt laugh your sides split.”
“Why, that thing wouldn’t hurt you, Carl,” said Grant, advancing and wiping his eyes, for excessive laughter had brought the tears. “It don’t look to me like an eel.”
“Iss dot so!” sneered Duckelstein scornfully. “Maype you supposition it vas a catfish? Maype you peliefe it peen a whales? I pet you I know an eels vhen he sees me, undt uf dot vas not an eels I vill alife svallow it.”
The Texan lifted the rod with the long root dangling at the end of the line, causing Carl to scramble away still further and once more get upon his stubby legs, prepared to run.
“It’s not an eel at all,” said Rod; “it’s nothing but an old root that must have caught upon your line in some manner.”
“Vot?” squawked the Dutch boy, staring incredulously at the thing. “It peen a roots? Vot iss? It couldt not peen a roots, for didt I not feel him aroundt my neck viggle undt choke me almost der vind out of? Keep avay!” he howled, as Rod started to advance. “Perhaps it didt like a root look, but an eels can tell me efery time.”