The estuary was perhaps two hundred yards wide, not more, no great distance for a good swimmer as I was in those days.

But then I had to hold the rifle above the water with my left hand at all cost, for if once it went beneath it would be useless.

Also I was desperately afraid of being seen in the lightning flashes, although to minimise this risk I had kept my dark-coloured cloth hat upon my head.
Lastly there was the lightning itself to fear, for it was fearful and continuous and seemed to be striking along the water.

It was a fact that a fire-ball or something of the sort hit the surface within a few yards of me, as though it had aimed at the rifle-barrel and just missed.

Or so I thought, though it may have been a crocodile rising at the moment.
In one way, or rather, in two, however, I was lucky.