the canoe if the bull seize him?"

"It is his risk," said the woman, calmly.

Venning dropped the glass, and he and Compton stood looking from the
island to the old hunter, who seemed to know every point in the game
better than they could follow through the glasses.

"Ah, it is well. They tear the branches from the canoe. They row
straight for the island. The white man jumps--the men tumble out--
wow-wow!--the bull takes the canoe in his jaws. It will go hard with
those who go for the meat if he get among them."

"The white man leaps in the water!" shouted another. "But he holds
his gun above him. He reaches the sand; the others crawl up also.
They run! I do not see the bull!"

"There are crocodiles!" shrilled a woman, pointing with an arm
heavily ringed with brass bangles.

"This is not their fight, mother."

"But they will take our meat."

"It is the bull I think of." "Will he meet the canoes, or will he
face the three on the island? The white man sees the canoes; he
waves them to go back, but they smell meat; they keep on." "What is
this? He points his gun at them. They stop; they turn back."

"A pity," said one of the officers, with a grin. "We should have