had been.

The situation was becoming, if possible, more horrible still. As long
as he could see the enemy it was bad enough. Now that he no longer
could, it was ten times worse, and he pictured the amphibious demon
gliding beneath the water to seize him. What chance had he, standing in
it up to his neck? The water, though not altogether clear, was
sufficiently so to enable him just to see the bottom, and now he hardly
dared look down in it, lest he should descry the hideous squab form of
the frightful reptile, and gaping jaws opening to close upon him. Then
he looked out again. There was the flat, dark object lying on the
surface exactly where it had disappeared, and--near it was another. Oh,
Heavens! There were two of them!

The cunning plan of the Igazipuza nearly succeeded. So inexpressibly
revolting did the prospect of such a fate appear, that Gerard was on the
point of quitting his concealment, of coming forth to meet his death in
open day on the spears of his enemies rather than remain there to be
torn limb from limb beneath the water by these loathsome monsters. But
still something kept him back, a resolution to hold out as long as life
was left; for not only did his own life hang upon the ultimate carrying
out of his mission, but that of Dawes and those dependent on them. So
he summoned all his determination to his aid, and resolved to hold out
courageously.

With the instinct of a true adventurer, he began to sum up his
resources, and they were practically _nil_. His firearms were soaked,
and even if they would go off, he might just as well surrender to his
enemies as fire a shot. He had a knife--a large sheath-knife--which had
formed part of his original outfit, and of which he was secretly proud.
It was an elaborate concern, with a brass-studded sheath and a blade
like a young claymore, and had been the object of much good-natured
banter on the part of Dawes, who pronounced it of doubtful
ornamentality, and still more doubtful utility, for it was too awkward
and cumbersome for a hunting-knife, though he conceded it might come in
handy some day to throw at a fellow, the only conceivable purpose to
which it could be turned. Now, however, the great dagger-like weapon
seemed to Gerard to be worth its weight in gold, for in it lay his sole
resource. To be sure, a hand-to-hand conflict with a full-sized
alligator in his own element, perhaps with two, armed only with a knife
however large, is a fo