Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam. Fenn George Manville

expect the croc will be about here now. If the water were clear we could see."

      But, as before said, the stream was flowing of a rich coffee or chocolate hue, deeply laden as it was with the fine mud of the low flats so often flooded after rains in the mountains, and it was impossible to see a fish, save when now and then some tiny, silvery scrap of a thing sprang out, to fall back with a splash.

      "We're only going to make ourselves hot for nothing," said Harry. "I don't believe we shall see the beast. Now, if you had been here when I saw him."

      "And both of us had had guns," said Phra. "What nonsense it is to talk like that! One never is at a place at the right time."

      "Fortunately for the crocs," said Harry, laughing. "Here he is."

      "What, the croc?" cried Phra, cocking his gun.

      "No, no; Sree. – Got it?"

      "Yes, Sahib. A good big one."

      The man came on to the landing-stage, smiling, with the bright new double hook in his hand and a stout piece of string. Then taking down a little coil of rope used for mooring boats at one of the posts, he thrust one of the hooks through the hemp, bound it fast with string, leaving a long piece after knotting off, and then passed the other hook well through the vertebrae and muscles behind the snake's head, using the remaining string to bind the shank of the hook firmly to the serpent's neck so as to strengthen the hold.

      There were about twenty yards of strong rope, and Sree fastened the other end of this to the post used to secure the boats, before looking up at the boys.

      "Large big fishing," he said, with a dry smile. "Fish too strong to hold."

      "And that's rather a big worm to put on the hook," said Harry, laughing. "There, throw it out, and let's see if we get a bite. Are you going to fish, Phra?"

      "No," said the Prince; "I am going to shoot. You can hold the line."

      "Thankye, but I'm going to fish too. Throw out, Sree."

      The old hunter's throwing out was to push one end of the serpent off the end of the bamboo stage, with the result that the rest glided after it, and with their guns at the ready the two boys waited to see if there was a rush made at the bait as it disappeared beneath the muddy stream.

      But all they saw was a gleam or two of the white part of the serpent, as it rolled over and over, then went down, drawing the rope slowly out till the last coil had gone; and then nothing was visible save a few yards of rope going down from the post into the water, and rising and falling with the action of the current.

      Sree squatted down by the post and went on chewing his betel, his two men by the brass vessels doing the same.

      So five, ten, fifteen minutes passed away, with the boys watching, ready to fire if there was a chance.

      "Oh, I say, this is horribly stupid," cried Harry at last. "Let's give it up."

      "No," said Phra; "you want patience to fish for big things as well as for little. You have no patience at all."

      "Well, I'm not a Siamese," said Harry, laughing. "We English folk are not always squatting down on our heels chewing nut and pepper-leaf, and thinking about nothing."

      "Neither am I," said Phra; "but I have patience to wait."

      "It is your nature to," said Harry. "You're all alike here; never in a hurry about anything."

      "Why should we be?" replied Phra quietly. "We could not in a hot country like ours. You always want to be in a hurry to do something else. Look at Sree and his men; see how they wait."

      "Yes, I suppose they're comfortable; but I'm not. I want to go and lie down under a tree. Think it's any good, Sree? Won't come, will he?"

      "Who can say, Sahib?" replied the man. "He ought to if he is about here. That bait is big and long; the bait must go far down the stream, and it smells well."

      "Smells well, eh?" said Harry.

      "Beautiful for a bait, Sahib. You are sure you saw one this morning?"

      "Saw it, and hit it a fine crack with a big stone."

      "Then he ought to be there and take that bait; and he will, too, if you have not offended him by making his back too sore."

      "Offended him! Made his back too sore!" said Harry, with a chuckle. "What a rum old chap you are, Sree! You talk about animals just as if they felt and thought as we do."

      "Yes, Sahib, and that is what the bonzes teach. They say that when people die they become crocodiles, or elephants, or birds, or serpents, or monkeys, or some other kind of creature."

      "And that's all stuff and nonsense, Sree. You don't believe all that,

      I know."

      "It's what I was taught, Sahib," said the man, with a queer twinkle of the eye.

      "But you don't believe it, Sree. You don't think that some one turned when he died into that old snake, or else you wouldn't have caught it to sell to my father as a specimen."

      "And then skinned it and made a bait of it on a hook to catch a crocodile," said Phra.

      "Not he. Look at him," cried Harry. "See how he's laughing in his sleeve."

      "He isn't. Hasn't got any sleeves."

      "Well, inside, then. His eyes are all of a twinkle. He doesn't believe it a bit. There, I shan't stand here any longer cuddling this gun, with nothing to shoot at."

      "It is rather stupid, Hal."

      "Yes. Here, jump up, Sree, and take us where we can have a shoot at something, or go and fish; I don't care which."

      "Come and see the elephants," suggested Phra.

      "No, I want to be under the shady trees. What's the good of going to see the tame elephants? They're not white, after all. Chained by one leg and nodding their old heads up and down, up and down, till they see you, and then they begin sticking out their leeches."

      "Sticking out their leeches?" said Phra, looking at him wonderingly.

      "Trunks, then. They always look to me like jolly great leeches ready to hold on to you. Let's go. Pull up the hook and line, Sree, and get rid of that nasty snake."

      "Yes, Sahib," said the old hunter, beginning to haul on the rope, which came in heavily for a few feet.

      "It comes in slowly," said Phra; "has something taken the bait?"

      Whush! went the line through Sree's hands, and then whang! as it was snapped tight with such violence that the man started from it, for the stout post was jarred so that it quivered and seemed about to be pulled down, while the light bamboo and palm roof swayed, and the whole structure seemed as if it were going to be dragged over into the river.

      There was no doubting the violence of the wrench and the danger, for the two men sprang off on to the shore and stood staring, till Sree shouted to them to come back and help haul.

      "Why, we've caught him, Phra," cried Harry, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment. "Look out, lad, and be ready to fire as soon as he shows upon the surface. Pull, Sree; don't let him drag like that at the post again."

      "I can't move him, Sahib," said the man, who looked startled; and he was already hauling with all his might, but doing nothing more than slightly ease the strain on the post.

      But first one and then the other man got a grip of the rope, pulling together with such effect that whatever had seized the bait and become hooked began to jerk the line violently, as if it were throwing its head from side to side.

      "Be ready to shoot, Master Harry," said Sree. "He may rush up to the top of the water and come at us, or try to sweep us off here with his tail."

      "Nonsense!" cried Harry.

      "'Tisn't," said Phra calmly, as he stood like a bronze statue, ready to fire. "I saw a man swept off a boat once like that."

      "By a croc?"

      "Yes."

      "What then?" said Harry huskily.

      "I don't know. He was never seen again.