A dog would be tied to a tree down by the river. The men would camp nearby. The dog would be heard barking, and men, armed with ropes, would pounce on the crocodile and circle its jaws with rope. Then tie it up and eventually shoot it so it could be skinned. The dog would most often survive. The crocs in those parts apparently loved dogs, and would come a way from the river to find them.
The ropes on jaws worked, as Bite force strong down, not so much up.
My grandfather would often remind me: you cannot outrun a croc on land.
This story is from the 20s and 30s, last century. My grandfather’s beautiful old house in Queensland, which his family sold sans sentiment, had a full crocodile pelt rug on the floor, among many other marvels.
I treasure many memories in my youth in that house of those marvels.