e clumps of low growth, which sparkled vividly as the nocturnal
insects were disturbed, and then the two adventurers were standing
breathing hard, hip-deep in the cool water which was flowing by them.

"Hear anything, Pete?"

"Only the ripple-pipple of the water, sir. You see the boats this
time?"

"Yes, for a moment, quite plainly, away to your left."

"We can reach them easy, sir; but it will get deeper. You must be ready
to swim. Say the word, sir, and I will lead."

"No, no; I'll go first."

"That's wasting time, sir."

"Right. Go on."

The words had hardly passed the subaltern's lips when he felt a sudden
snatch and a wallow in the water as if Peter had stepped out of his
depth; but the lad recovered himself directly and stood firm, panting.

"All right, sir," he whispered. "Bay'nets!"

In his excitement Archie had forgotten the crocodiles, and he now tore
the sharp, triangular blade from his belt, his imagination turning the
ripple and plap of water against the nearest boat into the movement of
an advancing reptile.

But all the time, short as it was, Peter, with extended arm, was moving
sideways in the direction where the boats had been seen, with the
bayonet-holding hand stretched out in the direction of his goal, the
other clutching Archie's left with a force that seemed crushing to the
owner's fingers.

Step after step was taken sideways, with the water each minute growing
deeper, and as they passed quite clear of the bushes they had left, the
water pressed more and more strongly against their breasts, so that they
could hardly keep their feet; while as the darkness above the flowing
stream seemed to be growing more transparent, Archie turned his head to
gaze back in the direction of the overhanging bushes, in the full
expectation of feeling a thrust from a spear, when he felt another
sudden snatch and tightened his grasp of his comrade's hand, for Peter
had reached deeper water and was borne off his feet, dragging Archie
sideways.

Then there came a sharp sound as of metal against wood, a splashing or
wallowing that suggested the rush of one of the loathsome reptiles, and
Peter gasped out in a gurgling way, as if he had been under water:

"All right, sir. I've got hold. Let yourself float down, and make a
snatch at the side."

How it was done Peter did not know, and did not want to. It was enough
for him in the darkness that he could feel that his companion had hold
of the side of