“Look out!” yelled Bob, pointing to the ground in front of the tree. “There’s another of the reptiles!”
As he spoke a second snake reared its head from the grass, right in the path Jerry would have taken. Bob had warned him just in time.
Jerry dropped to one knee. He took quick but careful aim at the snake on the ground and fired. The reptile thrashed about in a death struggle, for the bullet had crashed through its head.
“Now for the other one!” cried Jerry.
He ran in close to the reptile that was slowly crushing the professor to death. The unfortunate naturalist could no longer cry for help, so weak was he.
Jerry placed the muzzle of the rifle close to the snake’s head, and pulled the trigger. The ugly folds relaxed, the long, sinuous body straightened out and the professor would have fallen had not Jerry, dropping his gun, caught him. The other boys came to his aid, and they carried the naturalist to one side and placed him on the grass.
Bringing water from a nearby spring, Bob soon restored the professor to his senses.
“I’m all right,” said the collector in a few minutes. “The breath was about squeezed out of me, though.”
“You had a narrow escape,” said Ned.