revolver. He pressed it upwards against the thing that was smothering
him, and pulled the trigger. Again he pulled it, and again, for it was a
self-cocking weapon, and even there deep down in the water he heard the
thud of the explosion of the damp-proof copper cartridges. His lungs
were bursting, his senses reeled, only enough of them remained to tell
him that he was free of that strangling grip and floating upwards. His
head rose above the surface, and through the mouth of his mask he drew
in the sweet air with quick gasps. Down below him in the clear water
he saw the yellow head of Big Bonsa rocking and quivering like a great
reflected mon, saw too that it was beginning to rise. Yet he could not
swim away from it, the fetish seemed to have hypnotized him. He heard
Jeekie calling to him from the shallow water near the further bank, but
still he floated there like a log and stared down at Big Bonsa wallowing
beneath.

Jeekie plunged back into the canal and with a few strong strokes reached
him, gripped him by the arm and began to tow him to the shore. Before
they came there Big Bonsa rose like a huge fish and tried to follow
them, but could not, or so it seemed. At any rate it only whirled round
and round upon the surface, while from it poured a white fluid that
turned the black water to the hue of milk. Then it began to scream,
making a thin and dreadful sound more like that of an infant in pain
than anything they had ever heard, a very sickening sound that Alan
never could forget. He staggered to the bank and stood staring at it
where it bled, rolled and shrieked, but because of the milky foam could
make nothing out in that light.

"What is it, Jeekie?" he said with an idiotic laugh. "What is it?"

"Oh! don't know. Devil and all, perhaps. Come on, Major, before it catch