more difficult. At last I struck the mangrove belt, which always warns you that
you are approaching the coast.
As long as I kept in the centre of the channel, I was out of the way of the
network of roots; but now the channel was getting deeper and my progress
becoming more labored. It was impossible to reach the bank, for the mangroves
on either side had grown so thick and dense as to be impenetrable.
When I had perhaps achieved half the distance, the thought suddenly crossed my
mind—how very awkward it would be to meet a crocodile in such a place! One
couldn’t run, that was certain, and as for fighting, that would be a lost cause
from the first.
Right in the midst of these unpleasant cogitations I heard a quiet splash in the
water, not far behind, that sent my heart into my mouth. In a moment I had
scrambled on to a mangrove root and had turned to look for the cause of my
fears.
For perhaps a minute I saw nothing, and was trying to convince myself that my
previous thoughts had made me fanciful, when, not many yards off, I saw
distinctly the form of a huge crocodile swimming rapidly toward me. I needed
no second look, but dashed away over the roots.
Before I had gone half a dozen yards I was down sprawling in the mud. I got
entangled, and my terror made me totally unable to act with any judgment.
Despair nerved me and I turned at bay with my long hunting-knife in my hand.
How I longed for even my revolver!