122 HUNTING IN THE JUNGLE. 



Raising myself as high as I could, I took a good look 

 at the slowly approaching monster, and, I confess, a shud- 

 der of horror ran through me at his immense size. He 

 was farther off than I had expected, and evidently quite 

 unconscious of our neighborhood, into which he had come 

 by chance, following the raised path on which we o\u'- 

 selves had been travelling when the tide overtook us. I 

 immediately changed my plan of attacli. I oi'dered 

 Thursday to wade off to the left so that the smoke from 

 his trrni should not blow across me, and told him to fire 

 at the crocodile and try to wound him, if only slightly. 

 As this would make the latter raise his head and look 

 round, I hoped to get a shot at some very vulnerable spot, 

 and land an explosive ball wdiere it would do most good. 

 I had hardly taken up my position, with rifle lifted, when 

 Thursday's gun cracked sharp and clear, and I saw blood 

 fly from the eye of the crocodile, whose advance ceased 

 immediately. I could hardly restrain a cry of joy, but 

 catching sight of a yellow bit of neck, I fired at it and 

 shut my eyes. A great splash and the shouts of triumph 

 of the Dyaks encouraged me to open them, and 1 found 

 the success of the shot greater than I could have hoped. 



The crocodile lay on his side on a little island with his 

 neck blown open the entire length of the jaw, while the 

 Dyaks, who had made a l^reak for land without regard 

 to Thursday or myself, capered round him. I called 

 them, and they helped me on shore to where the animal 

 lay in his last agony, — for these brutes die as hard as a 



