The cub had eaten heavily of venison, having surprised a fawn in the tall grass while its mother had gone to the nearest water-hole, a full two miles away, to drink. And later, to quench his own thirst, he leisurely made his way to the margin of the river, further on, for the murky water of the lagoon was not to his liking.
A wide trail led to the edge of the stream, cut deep by the hoofs of tapirs, peccaries and other animals. Below, the water eddied lazily, as in a deep pool, before swirling away hurriedly further down.
After a casual survey of his surroundings the Jaguar stooped and began lapping up the warm but satisfying liquid. Something flashed dark beneath his nose and he drew back with a start; the action, sudden and violent, mired his forefeet deeply in the soft mud. Before he could recover his balance the long snout of a crocodile was thrust above the surface; the jaws opened, revealing rows of gleaming, peg-like teeth, and they closed again almost instantly with Warruk's left paw in their clasp.
The cub was no match for the great, powerful reptile, and before he could even attempt to offer resistance he had been dragged beneath the surface. The sudden plunge bewildered him, but only for an instant. Then he began struggling, frantically, the three free feet, with claws unsheathed groping blindly for a foothold. At first they encountered nothing but the unresisting water; and then one hindfoot grazed the crocodile's back, but the tough hide turned the sharp claws aside. The fact that there _was_ a footing somewhere within reach changed despair to hope. If he could but obtain a firm hold to brace his body there might be the possibility of resisting his assailant which was rapidly backing further and further from the bank. Again his feet groped blindly in the darkness; again they encountered something besides the swirling water but this time the claws held fast then sank deeper as he pushed with all his might, slid slowly downward and once more were free.
Warruk had not the strength left to make another effort. There was no need for it for his claws had rent into ribbons the less tough hide of the crocodile's throat.
Painful though this injury must have been it was not enough to deter the villainous reptile from its purpose. On the contrary, it seemed to increase its speed. Other marauders, however, had been attracted to the scene of the combat, first by the struggle that they sensed from a distance and now by the blood that flowed freely from the lacerated throat of the crocodile. They were no other than the _piranhas_ or cannibal fish. In legion they came until the water seemed packed with a solid mass of the ravenous creatures, crazed by the taste of blood and struggling so frantically to reach the source from which it came that they forced one another above the surface of the water.