With a cry of panic-fright at her own impotence to escape, the child caught up a picture book from the rug beside her, and flung it at the serpent. The fluttering book missed its mark. But it served its purpose by giving the copperhead reason to believe itself attacked.
Back went the triangular head, farther than ever; and then flashed forward. The double move was made in the minutest fraction of a second.
A full third of the squat reddish body going with the blow, the copperhead struck. It struck for the thin knee, not ten inches away from its own coiled body. The child screamed again in mortal terror.
Before the scream could leave the fear-chalked lips, Baby was knocked flat by a mighty and hairy shape that lunged across her toward her foe.
And the copperhead's fangs sank deep in Lad's nose.
He gave no sign of pain; but leaped back. As he sprang his jaws caught Baby by the shoulder. The keen teeth did not so much as bruise her soft flesh as he half-dragged, half-threw her into the grass behind him.
Athwart the rug again, Lad launched himself bodily upon the coiled snake.
As he charged, the swift-striking fangs found a second mark—this time in the side of his jaw.
An instant later the copperhead lay twisting and writhing and thrashing impotently among the grassroots; its back broken, and its body seared almost in two by a slash of the dog's saber-like tusk.