"Be ready with a match," whispered Guy. "When the canoe comes opposite, light the torch and I will cover the fellow with my rifle."
The sound grew louder and plainer, and Melton's finger was already trembling on the match when a terrific splash echoed over the water, followed instantly by a most awful and heartrending wail of agony, that caused every one to shudder from head to foot.
Perfect silence ensued, and the dip of the paddle was no longer heard. With nervous haste Forbes lit the torch, and the sudden light revealed an empty canoe floating bottom up a few yards out in the stream.
They paddled quickly alongside, and leaning over Guy turned the drifting boat right side up.
It was empty, of course. The contents had gone to the bottom, and near the center the frail sides, seen plainly in the torchlight, were actually crushed inward like a shattered egg-shell.
Where was the occupant of a moment before? What tremendous force had wrought this havoc?
The current carried them on and on, but no one spoke; no one dared utter the thoughts that were in his mind.
At last Guy said in faltering tones, "Nothing but a serpent could have inflicted that injury to the canoe."
"That was the meaning of the splash," replied Melton. "The huge coils must have been thrown around it. The poor fellow had only time for one cry when he was dragged out."
"Then the serpent must have been following us down the river," cried the colonel. "I supposed he was dead after that bullet lodged in his neck."