For, emerging from the water, dragging the pole and line the boys had dropped along with it, was a most curious creature. It was a big fish, but a fish with four short legs on which it was walking, or rather waddling along as much as a duck, with a double supply of feet, might do. “Say, do I see that or is there something the matter with my eyes?” sung out Jack, making ready to run away. “It’s there all right!” exclaimed Mark. “Hi! Andy! Here’s something to shoot!” he yelled, for indeed the creature was big enough to warrant attack with a gun. It was about five feet long and two feet through. On and on it came, straight at the boys, as if to have revenge for the pain the fish hook must have caused it, for the barb could be seen dangling from its lip. On and on it came, waddling forward, the water dripping from it at every step. It had the body and general shape of a fish, save that the tail was rather large in proportion. As it came nearer the boys noted that the feet were webbed, like those of a water fowl. “Come on!” cried Jack. “It may attack us!” At that moment the creature opened its mouth, showing a triple row of formidable teeth, and gave utterance to a sort of groan and grunt combined. This was enough to send Jack and Mark off on a run up the bank, and did they stop until they heard Andy’s voice hailing them. “What’s the matter, boys?” “Come here! Quick!” answered Jack. The fish-animal had halted and seemed to be taking an observation. To do this, as it could not turn its neck, it had to shift its whole body. Old Andy came up on the run, his gun held in readiness. “Where is it?” he asked, and the boys pointed silently. The hunter could not repress a start of astonishment as he saw the strange creature. But he did not hesitate a second. There was a crack of the rifle, and the thing, whatever it was, toppled over, dead. Andy hurried up to it, to get a closer view. “Well, this is the limit!” he exclaimed. “First we have grasshoppers that can roll peaches as big as hogsheads, and now we come across fish that walk. I wonder what we will see next.” “I don’t want to go fishing in this lake any more,” spoke Jack, as he looked at the repulsive creature. “I never want to eat fish any more.” “Same here,” agreed Mark, and old Andy was of the opinion that the thing killed would not make a wholesome dish for the table. “There don’t seem to be any game in this section,” he remarked. “Not a sign could I see, nor have I since we have been here, unless you count those grasshoppers. But the fruit is good, I’ll say that.” “Come on, we’d better be getting back,” Mark said, as he noticed it was getting dark. “I’m hungry.” CHAPTER XXII THE SNAKE-TREE