and actions were so human that it would have seemed 

 like a tragedy had one of them been hurt. They got 

 away into the big trees once more, to Jock's disappoint- 

 ment but greatly to my relief ; for I was quite pumped 

 from the romp and laughter. 



The river at this point was broken into several sluices 

 by islands formed of piles of rocks on which there were 

 a few stunted trees and dense growths of tall reeds, 

 and here and there little spits and fringes of white 

 sand were visible. There was plenty of small game 

 in that part, and it was a great place for crocodiles. 

 As we were then about half a mile below where 

 Mungo had been left I strolled along the bank on the 

 look out for a shot, frequently stopping to examine 

 suspicious-looking rocks on the sand spits or at the 

 borders of the reed fringes on the little islands. 



The shooting of crocodiles was an act of war : it 

 was enmity and not sport or a desire for trophies that 

 prompted it, and when it did not interfere with other 

 chances we never missed a practice shot at these fellows. 

 I picked out several ' rocks,' so suspicious looking that 

 I would have had a shot at them had there been a 

 clear chance, and twice, while I was trying to make 

 them out, they slid silently into the water before there 

 was time to fire. 



However, further on there came a better chance than 

 any : there was something so peculiar about the look 

 of this ' rock ' that I picked a good spot and sat down 

 to watch it ; and presently the part nearest me turned 

 slightly, just enough to show that it was a crocodile 

 lying on the flat sand with his nose towards me and his 

 365 



