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"This river," he answered, "flows towards the rising sun, and must empty into the bitter waters not more than a day or a half day from the Caves. We are going home. We will come again to look for arrows in a new raft which I will make." As he spoke, Loob's spear darted down beside the raft, and came up with a big, silvery fish writhing upon it.
A-ya's bow was bent as swiftly as Loob's, and the two arrows sped together, both into the monster's gaping gullet. Amazed at this reception it shut its jaws with a loud snap, halted and came on again. Then a stab of Grôm's great spear caught it full in the eye, and this wound struck fear into its dull mind. It rolled back hastily into the water and sank, leaving a foamy wake of blood behind it.
But in the next second Loob's ready spear was thrust clean through its throat, and his yell of warning tore the air. Grôm and A-ya whipped up onto the bank like a pair of otters: and the python, mortally stricken, shot out into the water over their heads, carrying Loob's spear with it, gripped tight in the constriction of its throat muscles.
As the lashing body struck the surface the water boiled about it, suddenly alive with crocodiles. Balked of their human prey, they fell upon the python. One of the monsters shot straight up, half-way out of the water, with two convulsive coils of the python's tail wrapped crushingly about its jaws; but the python, with Loob's spear through its throat, could only struggle blindly.
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