“Save me! Save me!” Miguel was crying piteously, and in his anxiety David cast caution to the winds and dashed at the reptile, knife raised high above his shoulder. The next thing he knew he found himself sprawling in the mud where a powerful blow of the crocodile’s tail had sent him. He arose immediately, but this time he approached more cautiously. “Use your own knife,” he shouted. “Hack at the eyes, the throat--any place at all!” These words carried a ray of hope with them and for the first time Miguel seemed to regain his reason. He drew the shining blade from the scabbard and rained a shower of blows on the creature’s head, making it bellow with pain and rage. Blood began to stream from the numerous gashes, but still it refused to relinquish its victim. It was too occupied, however, to pay further attention to David; in a moment he had leaped astride the armor-covered back and, clutching the rough plates with his left hand, he delivered thrust after thrust with his right at the vulnerable neck and throat. Roars and bellows escaped the struggling reptile as it shook its huge body in vain efforts to rid itself of its adversary and filled the air with a shower of the thin mud. However, the odds against it were too great. Its efforts grew weaker and after a few minutes there were only the convulsive movements of its massive legs and tail. Its head had been almost severed from the body. David pried open the great jaws with the blade of his knife and released Miguel’s foot; then he carried him to the grass and removed his shoe to examine the extent of his injury. He found that two of the thick, peg-like teeth had entered the flesh. Obviously the crocodile had broken some of its teeth in previous encounters, or the man would not have escaped so easily. He bore the pain stolidly even when David probed the wound to encourage bleeding, for he dared not wash it with the stagnant water of the lagoon. Just then the men reappeared. They had witnessed the combat from a distance, but now that it was over they came back and discussed it in loud, excited voices. David went to get his rope and paced the distance beside the crocodile, finding it over twenty feet in length. Then he returned to the group. “Miguel will have to be carried back to camp,” he said. “He must not walk until I can wash and dress his foot properly. You can all take turns carrying him, first one, then the other. Now, let’s start.” They obeyed mechanically, glad to be under the direction of the man who was now a hero in their sight, although they were still too dazed fully to appreciate it. CHAPTER XIII ADRIFT IN THE FOREST That night each one of the men who had witnessed the encounter of the afternoon described it in minutest detail to the others who had not been present. Even the Indians learned of it and came over in a body to hear the story told and retold, and then returned to their own shelters to discuss it far into the night.