“I say, Barry, the brute’s coming towards us,” cried Gerald. “I’ll have one more shot; and if I miss we’d better gallop off, for these snakes move with fearful rapidity through the grass, and this one might catch hold of us in a way we shouldn’t like.”
I was glad to find that Gerald was as cautious as he was brave; and considering his advice good, I agreed to take to flight rather than risk an encounter with the serpent on dry land. I might transfix it with my lance, as Saint George did the dragon, but I had no wish to engage in combat with the terrible beast.
While I was reloading my carbine Gerald fired. “Missed again!” he shouted; “now let’s gallop for it,—the brute’s in earnest, and will have us if he can!”
We turned our horses’ heads, and digging our spurs into their flanks, left the serpent, should it land, to search for us in vain.
After going some distance we pulled rein and looked back, but as we could nowhere see it, we concluded that, not discovering us on the shore, it had continued its voyage to wherever it was bound.
“I don’t care for human foes, or for any wild animals, but these snakes are my detestation,” said Gerald. “The boa and anaconda, and the big tree-snake, are bad enough; but there are others which, on account of their bite, are still worse. There is one called the aques, seldom more than eight or ten feet long, which is the most savage creature imaginable; and its fangs are so deadly that a person seldom lives more than a few hours after being bitten. Not only will the creature spring out upon a passer-by, but it will follow him to a considerable distance, and then fly at his throat and kill him,—unless he has a long stick to defend himself. The Indians and blacks are, with good reason, mortally afraid of the aques. I have often seen them, but never had a fight with one; though I shouldn’t care about it, provided I was armed with a long, tough stick.”
I confessed that I should not wish to make the near acquaintance of so terrible a reptile; but, young as he was, Gerald had shot a jaguar and a puma (on each occasion while quite alone), and several smaller wild animals—such as black bears, boars, peccaries, and tiger-cats. He had numerous trophies of his skill to exhibit. No wonder that Tim was proud of him. He had greatly the advantage of me as a sportsman; but, though our father and mother had done their best to instruct him, he was sadly behind-hand in general knowledge and book-learning, such as I had had the opportunity of gaining at school. Notwithstanding this, we got on very well together; and there was no fear, I hoped, of our ever falling out. He looked up to me as superior to him in many points, and I regarded him with admiration for his courage and hardihood and excellent temper.
We had proceeded for some way along the banks of the lake, when we caught sight of a boat in the distance, apparently crossing to reach a point ahead of us. We could distinguish four people in the boat, which came on rather slowly. This was accounted for when we made out several horses swimming in the water astern. The lake was bordered by a fringe of reeds, which in some places grew some distance into the water, over which water-fowl of various species winged their flight,—while we observed several pink-tinted flamingoes stalking with long legs in the shallows: and as we were watching the boat, a large flight of these beautiful birds came swooping along through the air.
Being curious to know who was in the boat, we rode slowly on towards the landing-place, from whence, Gerald told me, the road led past the end of the lake to our house. As we reached the spot the boat approached; and looking at the only passenger it contained, I at once recognised the countenance of Dr Stutterheim, while his canine friend Jumbo was standing in the bow of the boat. “What, doctor! is that you?” I shouted out.
“Ah, my young friend, I am very glad to see you,” he exclaimed, standing up and waving his hand. “I am coming to take advantage of your invitation. But I will tell you all about it when I get on shore.”