“Hit him with a club!” was Ned’s caution.
The professor did not heed the advice. With a bravery, worthy perhaps of a better cause, he made a spring not away from but right at the snake. He explained afterward that he hoped to grab it around the neck and choke it.
But he missed his aim, and the next moment [there was a confused tangle of man and snake on the ground]. All the boys could see was a striped tail threshing about while, every now and then, the professor’s legs were visible. He had some sort of a grip, but it was not the right kind, on the reptile.
[THERE WAS A CONFUSED TANGLE OF MAN AND SNAKE ON THE GROUND]
“We must go ashore and help him! He’ll be killed!” shouted Ned.
“Give me the gun, Bob!” yelled Jerry. “I’ll try a shot.”
“Don’t hit the professor,” cautioned Bob.
Ned leaped ashore, followed by his companions who waded through the intervening shallow water. They ran toward where the professor was still struggling with the snake. But, by the time they arrived the battle was over. Or, rather, it was a retreat. The snake, probably the worst scared reptile in Florida at that moment, was headed for the water, and, as the professor was stretched out on his back, where a movement of the strong folds had thrown him the snake glided into the lake and disappeared amid a series of ripples.
“There he goes!” cried Bob, while Jerry sent several bullets from the magazine rifle after it. But it was too late. The snake got away unharmed.