Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
To see her perish before his eyes! who could bear that? Her hands alone
were above the surface. Amyas caught convulsively at her in the
darkness, and seized her wrist.
A yell rose from the negroes: a roar from the crew as from a cage of
lions. There was a rush and a swirl along the surface of the stream; and
"Caiman![205-14] caiman!" shouted twenty voices.
Now, or never, for the strong arm! "To larboard, men, or over we go!"
cried Amyas, and with one huge heave, he lifted the slender body upon
the gunwhale. Her lower limbs were still in the water, when, within
arm's length, rose above the stream a huge muzzle. The lower jaw lay
flat, the upper reached as high as Amyas's head. He could see the long
fangs gleam white in the moonshine; he could see for one moment, full
down the monstrous depths of that great gape, which would have crushed a
buffalo. Three inches, and no more, from that soft side, the snout
surged up--
There was the gleam of an ax from above, a sharp ringing blow, and the
jaws came together with a clash which rang from bank to bank. He had
missed her! Swerving beneath the blow, his snout had passed beneath her
body, and smashed up against the side of the canoe, as the striker,
over-balanced, fell headlong overboard upon the monster's back.
"Who is it?"
"Yeo!" shouted a dozen.
Man and beast went down together, and where they sank, the moonlight
shone on a great swirling eddy, while all held their breaths, and
Ayacanora cowered down into the bottom of the canoe, her proud spirit
utterly broken, for the first time, by the terror of that great need,
and by a bitter loss. For in the struggle, the holy trumpet, companion
of all her wanderings, had fallen from her bosom; and her fond hope of
bringing magic prosperity to her English friends had sunk with it to the
bottom of the stream.
None heeded her; not even Amyas, round whose knees she clung, fawning
like a spaniel dog: for where was Yeo?
Another swirl; a shout from the canoe abreast of them, and Yeo rose,
having dived clean under his own boat, and risen between the two.
"Safe as yet, lads! Heave me a line, or he'll have me after all."
But ere the brute reappeared, the old man was safe on board.
"The Lord has stood by me," panted he, as he shot the water from his
ears. "We went down together: I knew the Indian trick, and being
upper-most, had my thumbs in his eyes before he could turn: but he
carried me down to the very mud. My breath was nigh gone, so I left go,
and struck up: but my toes tingled as I rose again, I'll warrant. There
the beggar is, looking for me, I declare!"
And true enough, there was the huge brute swimming slowly round and
round, in search of his lost victim. It was too dark to put an arrow
into his eye; so they paddled on, while Ayacanora crouched silently at
Amyas's feet.
"Yeo!" asked he, in a low voice, "what shall we do with her?"
"Why ask me, sir?" said the old man, as he had a very good right to ask.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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