After a desperate plunge toward shallow water, Quonab gave
another wrench to the tomahawk - it moved, loosed; another, and
it was free. Then "chop, chop, chop," and that long, serpentine
neck was severed; the body, waving its great scaly legs and
lashing its alligator tail, went swimming downward, but the huge
head, blinking its bleary, red eyes and streaming with blood, was
clinched on his arm. The Indian made for the bank hauling the
rope that held the living body, and fastened it to a tree, then
drew his knife to cut the jaw muscles of the head that ground its
beak into his flesh. But the muscles were protected by armour
plates and bone; he could not deal a stab to end their power. In
vain he fumbled and slashed, until in a spasmodic quiver the jaws
gaped wide and the bloody head fell to the ground. Again it
snapped, but a tree branch bore the brunt; on this the strong
jaws clinched, and so remained.
For over an hour the headless body crawled, or tried to crawl,
always toward the lake. And now they could look at the enemy.
Not his size so much as his weight surprised them. Although
barely four feet long, he was so heavy that Rolf could not lift
him.
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