splashing, in a compact group, all five scrambled out of the river together. Their erratic behavior puzzled the Colonel, who turned to Lyttleton.
"That's to frighten the crocks," Lyttleton explained; "if the first sailorman had tried to swim quietly, a crocodile might have got him. But the crock's an arrant coward. He won't attack two men; and he always runs from a noise. So if one man falls overboard, others jump in and make a deuce of a row."
"Pretty good scheme," commented the Colonel.
"Yes," said Lyttleton; "but no man would have dared jump in at Timshi Khor, where crocodiles are thicker than minnows. Natives believe that the demon crock lives at Timshi. If a man falls overboard they let the demon get him. We'll reach Timshi Khor after a bit."
Some little distance above, after the Zafir chugged on from the wood-yard, the Nile divided, flowing along both sides of a low island. On the left bank a slough emptied into the river. Lyttleton caught the Colonel's arm, and pointed with his pipe to a currentless depression full of water. "There is Timshi Khor," he said, and Colonel Spottiswoode leveled his glass to get a better view.
"This looks like shallow water," the Colonel remarked, with an eye experienced in judging the
