My chances, if it did not seem a mockery to call them such, were small indeed. I
might, by singular good luck, deprive my adversary of sight; but hemmed in as I
was by a tangled mass of roots, I felt that even then I should be but little better
off.
All manner of thoughts came unbidden to my mind. I could see Inchi Mohamed
propped up on cushions in the launch reading “A Little Book of Profitable
Tales” that had just been sent me by its author. I started to smile at the tale of
The Clycopeedy. Then I caught sight of the peak of Mount Ophir through a notch
in the jungle and all sorts of absurd hypotheses in regard to its authenticity
flashed through my mind. All this takes time to relate, but those who have stood
in mortal peril will know how short a time it takes to think.
From the moment I left the water, but a few seconds had elapsed and the saurian
was not two yards from me. The abject horror and hopelessness of that moment
was something I can never forget. Suddenly Lekas came floundering through the
mud; a second more, and he perceived my enemy when almost within reach of
his jaws.
Barking furiously, Lekas began to back away. One breathless moment, and the
reptile turned to follow this new prey. I sank down among the roots regardless of
the slime and watched the crocodile crawl deliberately away, with the gallant
little dog retreating before him, keeping up a succession of angry barks.
When I arrived at the mouth of the creek, weak, faint, and covered from head to
foot with mud, I found the Chief Justice awaiting me. The barking of the dog
had attracted his attention and he had steamed up to see what was the matter.
I had not strength left to stroke the head of the brave little fellow who had thus
twice done me a most welcome service. I had, indeed, but just strength enough
to spring in, throw myself down on the cushions, and let my “boys” pull off my
clothes and bring me a suit of clean pajamas and cool grass slippers.