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"Now, Ned, lay hold; and when the fish bites, give him plenty of line.
Don't strike."
Ned took the rope offered to him eagerly, and yet with a feeling of reluctance, for the game was formidable.
"Let him go back into the river, and swallow the bait; then we'll talk to him. Now all lie down and be quiet."
The Malays were already as silent and motionless as a group in bronze, and Tim and the lads followed their example, every one watching the white hen, which, in happy ignorance of its perilous position, still pecked about quite close to the edge of the bank.
"Think it will come?" said Ned, after they had crouched there in silence for quite an hour.
"Can't say," whispered back the other. "More likely perhaps to bite of a night or early in the morning. Most likely to bite if we were not here. Fish always do if I leave my rod for a bit. Getting tired of waiting?"
"No; it's too exciting."
"No need to hold the rope without you like."
"But I do like. Will he pull very hard?"
"When he's hooked, but you must not let him pull hard when he first takes the hen. It's just like some kinds of fis.h.i.+ng; you don't want to strike till the fish has swallowed the bait."
Another hour in that hot silence, and no signs of a crocodile. The Malays were all watchful, their dark eyes fixed on the white bird, and their spears ready; but Tim Driscol had fallen asleep with his pipe in his mouth, and the sight of the Irishman with his eyes closed, and his breath coming regularly, had a drowsy effect upon Ned, who half lay there on his side watching the glaring river, with the water looking every here and there like damascened metal. Then all at once, as Tim Driscol's breath came thickly, the hen was not there, the rope was running out fast, there was a sudden jerk, and Ned's eyes opened with a start.
"Don't go to sleep," whispered Frank. "He may come at any time."
"Don't go to sleep!" Then he had been asleep and dreaming, for there was the hen scratching about on the bank, and the rope lying just as it was before.
"I had only just closed my eyes, had I?"
"About five minutes, and your head was wagging about like a big fruit on a stalk. You don't want the croc to drag you into the river too."
These last words effectually drove away the drowsy sensation brought on by the silence and heat there beneath the trees; and, after a glance round to see that the Malays were all as watchful as ever, Ned settled down again to think about the white hen; about his own narrow escape, and then about the horrible mishap that morning, and of the poor girl's feelings as she felt herself seized by the great reptile.
"They ought to kill them all, Frank," he whispered.
"Kill whom?"
"The crocodiles. It is horrible to let these creatures be about the place."
"Very well; let's kill 'em all, then. There'll be plenty of sport.
We're beginning with this one."
"But he does not come."
"Well then, let's give it up now and go. He is too artful. I daresay he sees us, and will not come till we are gone. We'll go away and come back this evening. That's the way the Malays catch the wretches. They don't stop to watch, only let the rope be tied to a tree, and then come back, and they often find one on."
"How do they kill it, then?"
"Same as we're going to kill this one when he is hooked; but, oh murder, I'm getting so precious hungry; let's give up now. I'll tell them we're not going to stay."
He crawled to the men, whispered softly to them for a few minutes, and then came back, pausing to rouse up Tim, who looked very stupid.
"Ready?" said Ned, who was still holding the rope attached to the hen.
"No. I don't think I should like to give up. He may come yet."
"I don't know," said Frank. "The brute isn't hungry perhaps. I am, and I daresay there's a white chicken waiting at home nicely curried, and with plenty of cocoa-nut cream in it, and the whitest of rice round, ready for me. I'm hungry, and can bite; so can you. Let's be off and-- eh? What?"
"Hist!" whispered Ned; "the water is moving. Look! look!"
They could only see a little of the water near the bank, where the lotus-leaves were, but they were evidently being moved by something pa.s.sing through them, and the pale blue blossoms were nodding.
Then almost directly there was a splash, a hideous head appeared on the bank, the wretched hen uttered a cackling shriek and leaped up to the full extent of the tether, a loud snapping noise was heard. They had just a rapid view of a huge scaly, dripping body in the act of turning, a great undulating tail waved in the air--there was a loud splash; and, thrilling with excitement, Ned saw the slack coils of rope running out, and that the bait was gone.
"That's right," whispered Frank excitedly, as a suppressed murmur rose from the Malays; "give him plenty of line. He won't go very far.
There's lots of length;" and he stood looking on as, excited as he, Ned dragged at the rope, and pa.s.sed it rapidly through his hands as it kept on running toward the bank, and into the river more and more and more, till only about ten yards were left before the end was reached--the end tied to a young cocoa-nut tree.
One of the Malays sprang up, whipped out his kris, and was going to cut the rope, for a check might have made the crocodile leave the bait before he had swallowed it, and the intention was to run with the end over to the river's brim, thus giving another fifty feet of line to run; but, just as he raised his kris, the great reptile ceased drawing out the rope, and Frank gave his young companion a congratulatory slap on the shoulder.
"Hurrah!" he cried; "he will not go any farther. He has got a lurking-place down there, under those lilies, and he is busy swallowing it."
He turned and asked one of the men a question, and the answer confirmed his opinion.
"Yes; it's all right," said Frank.
"Shall I strike now?"
"Oh no; give him plenty of time to swallow his chicken curry. I say, wait a bit; won't he find it warm in a few minutes."
"But I must strike soon. Let me do it."
"Oh yes; you shall strike, and then we'll have a lot of the fellows ready to catch hold, for that fellow's seventeen or eighteen feet long.
I know, and you don't know, how strong these things are."
Ned made no reply, for he was suffering from a strange feeling of emotion: his heart beat violently, there was a sensation of suffocation in his breast, and the hands which held the rope trembled and twitched.
"Feel frightened, sor?" whispered Tim, smiling in his face.
"No, I don't think I'm frightened, because I wouldn't let go on any account."
"I know. I felt just like that the first time I saw one caught, and the men let me howld the line."
"But it must be time to strike now."
"Why, you talk as if you had a rod in your hand, and a fish had taken your bait," cried Frank.
"Yes; it seems just the same."
"Only it isn't fis.h.i.+ng: its reptiling. Give him plenty of time."