As for Tudor--"
"Look! look!" Joan cried in a low voice, pointing across the narrow
stream to a slack eddy where a huge crocodile drifted like a log awash.
"My! I wish I had my rifle."
The crocodile, leaving scarcely a ripple behind, sank down and
disappeared.
"A Binu man was in early this morning--for medicine," Sheldon remarked.
"It may have been that very brute that was responsible. A dozen of the
Binu women were out, and the foremost one stepped right on a big
crocodile. It was by the edge of the water, and he tumbled her over and
got her by the leg. All the other women got hold of her and pulled. And
in the tug of war she lost her leg, below the knee, he said. I gave him
a stock of antiseptics. She'll pull through, I fancy."
"Ugh--the filthy beasts," Joan gulped shudderingly. "I hate them! I
hate them!"
"And yet you go diving among sharks," Sheldon chided.
"They're only fish-sharks. And as long as there are plenty of fish there
is no danger. It is only when they're famished that they're liable to
take a bite."
Sheldon shuddered inwardly at the swift vision that arose of the dainty
flesh of her in a shark's many-toothed maw.
"I wish you wouldn't, just the same," he said slowly. "You acknowledge
there is a risk.
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