Jeekie, whose
teeth were chattering, hung back, but Alan pushed him from behind, so
sharply that he stumbled and made a splash. Then Alan followed, and as
the cold, black water rose to his chest, looked again at Big Bonsa.
It seemed to him that the thing had turned round and was staring at
them. Surely a few seconds ago its snout pointed the other way. No, that
must be fancy. He was swimming now, they were all swimming, Alan and
Jeekie holding their pistols and little stock of cartridges above
their heads to keep them dry. The gold head of Big Bonsa appeared to be
lifting itself up in the water, as a reptile might, in order to get a
better view of these proceedings, but doubtless it was the ripples that
they caused which gave it this appearance. Only why did the ripples make
it come towards them, quite gently, like an investigating fish?
It was about ten yards off and they were in the middle of the canal. The
Mungana had passed it. It was in a line with Alan's head. Oh Heavens! a
sudden smother of foam, a rush like that of a torpedo, and set low down
between two curving waves, a flash of gold. Then a gurgling, inhuman
laugh and a weight upon his back.
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