scrambled to his knees.

There are only two vulnerable spots on a full-grown crocodile;
under the left fore leg, where the heart can be pierced, and the
jugular vein, easily reached through the opened jaws. Piang, in
the bow of the boat, paused, arm raised, waiting for a favorable
opportunity. The canoe was being swept backward, stern first, and
the crocodile swam close, nosing it, making it careen perilously. Any
moment the merciless jaws might close over the brittle wood, crushing
it to splinters. The small, bleary eyes seemed to devour Piang as
they tortured him with suspense, but he patiently waited for his
chance, knowing that he would only have one. The banco gave a jerk
as it bumped into an obstruction, and the impact forced it outward
a few feet. The moment had come. As the crocodile plunged forward,
Piang thrust his spear into its breast. There was a gurgling sound,
a swishing of the water, and the Ugly thing rolled over on its back.

Piang never could remember just how he escaped. From every sheltered
cove, from behind innocent-looking snags, appeared the heads of hungry
crocodiles, awakened by the fight. Luckily they were attracted by the
blood of Piang's victim, and he skilfully avoided the clumsy animals
as they rushed after the fast disappearing meal. One powerful monster
succeeded in dragging the body into the rushes, and the noise of the
dispute, as they fought over their unfortunate mate, nauseated the
boy. His arms were tired and stiff and his head was reeling, but he
bravely worked at the paddle until he reached a bend of the river. It
had been a narrow escape, and Piang had learned a lesson. Never again
would he idly thump logs in a stream!

The boat suddenly came to a standstill. It was turning as if on
a pivot. It had been caught in one of the numerous eddies at the
mouth of a small tributary stream. Vigorously he strove to gain
the channel. He hugged the bank, hoping to free himself from the
whirlpool, but his outrigger became entangled in some weeds, and
the boat slowly began to tip. Frantically he reached toward the
tall nipa-palms, nodding over his head, but their flimsy stalks gave
easily, and he was almost thrown out of the boat. The sparkling water,
as if laughing at his predicament, caressed the helpless craft,
drawing it closer and closer to its bosom. The banco gave a lurch;
it was tipping; it shipped a quantity of water. All Piang's weight
thrown against the upturned outrigger had no