130 AFRICAN ADVENTURE STORIES 



after a half-hour's fight, to slice off the few 

 pieces of skin I wanted. 



While we were going down the Nile, on the 

 way to Nimule, my tent boy spied a crocodile 

 on the bank about fifty yards away. We had 

 passed before I saw it, and by the time I could 

 get my rifle it was hidden by a patch of grass. 

 Taking a quick aim into the tussock, I pulled 

 the trigger and had the satisfaction of seeing 

 the croc's jaws fly open and come together with 

 a snap, and as it did not leave the shore we knew 

 that he was hard hit. 



To many people this may not sound commend- 

 able, but I am sure that my action will be in- 

 dorsed by every one who has visited the upper 

 Nile country and knows the true habits of these 

 reptiles. Crocodiles deserve no more sympathy 

 or protection than do tuberculosis or cancer 

 germs, for they are nothing more than a gigan- 

 tic parasite. Annually hundreds of natives are 

 carried off by these loathsome creatures, and, 

 knowing them as I do, I must confess that a 

 sort of fiendish glee overcame me whenever I 

 killed one. That our entire party shared much 

 the same opinion is proven by the fact that of 

 all the animals we killed during our eleven 



