"Hush."
Old Jack, without turning his head, lowered his voice and tied a knot in his belt, cautiously approaching the crocodile.
As he got closer, he suddenly accelerated, pouncing on the crocodile as it raised its head, his hands like iron pincers, firmly grasping the crocodile's neck and pinning it down.
Stepping on the crocodile's head, he pulled hard and used the belt to tightly fasten its mouth shut, then yanked it out of the mud pit like a string of strung-up carp, turning it belly up.
The crocodile's flailing limbs tried to roll in a death thrash, but once its mouth was tied up, it was powerless to do anything.
Old Jack didn't bother exchanging words with it, promptly grabbed the entrenching shovel and, with practiced skill, waited for the right moment to bash its forehead repeatedly with a dozen quick strikes!
The sharp edge of the shovel, like an axe, knocked the crocodile senseless!
