"Stand by for a spell!" exclaimed Reeves, who, like the others, was wellnigh breathless with his exertions. Stooping down, he stuck his knife lightly into one of the planks at the waterline.
A quarter of an hour later, ere they resumed their task, the correspondent withdrew the blade. The mark where it had stuck was three inches above the surface of the water.
"We may as well make ourselves comfortable for the night," said Reeves. "We may get off to-morrow, or we may not. For some reason, that I cannot explain, the level of the lake has fallen too much for us to expect to haul the boat off."
Throwing the improvised anchor overboard, as a matter of precaution, the wearied crew had supper.
Just before time for turning in, Hugh leant over the side, holding a candle in his hand.
"There's more water now!" he exclaimed. "Shall we have another shot at getting her off?"
"By all means," assented Reeves, "if you feel up to it; but we don't want to get her aground again in a worse position than she is in at present."
"I'll walk round and sound," said Gerald, and without another word he stepped over the side and paddled through the shallow water.
"It's deeper here," he continued, after a lengthy pause. "But there's a rock or a floating log just ahead. I'll soon see what it is."
"You come back!" shouted Reeves apprehensively; but the warning came too late. As Gerald trod upon the "log" it became suddenly and violently active, and, struck by an irresistible blow, the lad was hurled nearly ten feet before he fell on his back in the shallow water. Staggering to his feet, he ran blindly towards the boat, with a huge crocodile, snapping its powerful jaws, in pursuit.