“You grant this,” said Thud. “Then the sure way to prevent deaths from snake-bites would be to pour ammonia on the fangs of the snakes.”
“If you could catch ’em,” suggested old Champer.
“We have four snakes in the case,” continued Thud. “No, I remember that two died yesterday; but we have the cobra still. From this little glass-stoppered bottle of ammonia I mean to pour some drops into his mouth, and so render his poison innocuous for ever.”
“If the cobra don’t object,” observed Champer, grinning again.
“Here’s the case with its strong wire-work covering,” said Thud. “I am going to prove the truth of my theory.”
Feeling like a second Jenner, Thucydides Thorn advanced to the case. The cobra looked sleepy, and averse to experiments being tried upon him. He would not be stirred up, even when Thud poked him with a straw introduced between the wires. The sulky snake would not open his jaws.
Thud dropped a little ammonia from the bottle through the wire cover; it fell on the cobra’s head and on one of its glittering eyes. The reptile was thoroughly roused, swelled out his hood, and twisted about in angry contortions.
“I have not managed to get the ammonia on his fangs yet,” cried Thud; “but he’s opening his jaws wide enough now.”
The young experimentalist, holding the bottle ready, and eagerly watching for an opportunity, bent over the cage. The reptile evidently saw him, for the cobra darted out his forked tongue, and seemed ready to spring; but Thud felt no fear, for he knew that strong wire-work effectually imprisoned the serpent. But whilst the philosopher held the bottle in his right hand, he unconsciously let the left press heavily on the wires, which were not so close as to prevent a small portion of a finger being exposed to the enemy’s attack. There was a spring from below, a cry from above.
“Oh, I am bitten!” cried Thud, staggering back from the cage and dropping the bottle.