The wound made by Fred’s hatchet was evidently a severe one, and, maddened with pain, the reptile whipped around and around on the forward deck. Then, of a sudden, it began to slide down the slope, and a moment later disappeared over the side of the yacht into the heaving ocean.
“He’s gone!” murmured Randy, in awe-struck tones.
“Yes; and I’m glad of it,” answered Jack. “Fred, that was certainly a dandy throw.”
“I’ll say it was a lucky one,” answered the youngest Rover boy modestly. His face had blanched and he was breathing heavily.
“For all we know, there may be more loose snakes around,” remarked Jack. “We’ll have to be on our guard every minute.”
“I move we look around the cabin for guns and pistols,” said Randy. “I’d feel a good deal better if I had some sort of firearm. It would be a protection, not only against the snakes, but against those wild beasts, if any of them should break loose.”
“If I had my way, I’d heave all the beasts and the snakes overboard,” came from Fred.
He armed himself again with the hatchet, and then the three boys rejoined Andy and the lanky sailor, and the five held a consultation.
“The steam yacht don’t seem to be settlin’ very fast,” said Ira Small. “So I don’t know but what your idee of lookin’ round for some weapons ain’t a first-class one. I’d like to have some kind of a shootin’ iron myself. A bullet travels a heap-sight quicker nor a club, or a hatchet, either. Not but what that crack of yours, lad, wasn’t a wonder,” he added hastily to Fred.