merged out from the long grass and saw the deep, placid pool lying
before them; then he added disappointedly, "but not a sign of a duck."

"Never mind," said Grayling consolingly, as he sat down on the bank and
wiped his heated face, "we'll get plenty of pigeons, anyway. But first
of all I'm going to have something to eat and drink. Open that bag,
Williams, and you, Morris and Jones, keep your ears cocked and your
eyes skinned. It's lovely and quiet here, but I wouldn't like to get a
poisoned arrow into my back whilst drinking bottled beer."

"I'm going to have a swim before I eat anything," said Walters, with a
laugh. "Won't you, sir?" he asked, as he began undressing.

"Looks very tempting," replied the officer, "but I'm too hot. Take my
advice and wait a bit till you're cooler."

The youngster only laughed, and, having stripped, took a header from
the bank, and then swam out into the centre of the pool where it was
deepest.

"Oh, do come in, sir," he cried; "it's just splendid. There's a bit of a
current here and the water is delightfully cool."

*****

Martin was aroused from his sleep by the sound or voices. He seized his
rifle, bent over his wife, and whispered to her to awake; then crawling
on his hands and knees from the hut he reached the bank and looked out,
just as young Walters dived into the water.

Hardened murderer as he was, he felt a thrill of horror, for he knew
that the pool was a noted haunt of alligators, and to attempt to swim
across it meant certain death.

His wife touched his arm, and crouching beside him, her black eyes
filled with a deadly hatred, she showed her white teeth and gave a low,
hissing laugh.

"Before one can count ten he will be in the jaws," she said, with savage
joy.

"Nuta," whispered Martin hoarsely, "'tis but a boy," and the veins stood
out on his bronzed forehead as his hand closed tighter around his rifle.

"What wouldst thou do, fool?" said the woman fiercely as she seized the
weapon by the barrel; "think of thy son who died but yesterday... ah!
ah! look! look!"

Tearing the rifle from her grasp he followed the direction of her eyes;
a swiftly-moving black snout showed less than thirty yards from the
unconscious bather, who was now swimming leisurely to the bank.

"He must not die," he muttered; "'tis but a boy!" Then turning to the
woman he spoke aloud. "Quick! run to the forest; I shall follow."

Again she sought to stay his hand; he dashed her aside, r