The shot was a square one, and when the smoke from the gun cleared away it was found that the reptile’s head was completely severed from the body, which latter continued to twist about until it fell into the water of the bog hole. Jerry kicked the head in after it, out of sight.
“Let us get out of here,” he said, with a shudder. “Who knows but what we have dropped into a regular nest of snakes.”
That he was right in his surmise was soon evident, for low hissings could be heard on several sides. Without delay they sprang across the bog swamp and took to the higher ground, where they could see every foot of the way before them.
“I’ve had snakes enough to last me the rest of the summer,” soliloquized Jerry. “I hate them worse than anything else in the world. Look!”
He pointed on ahead, to where there was a tree almost loaded with game birds. At a sign from Jerry both raised their guns and fired.
There was a flutter and a whirr, and then came a number of shrill cries from the birds which were wounded. These the boys at once proceeded to put out of their misery.
“Four birds,” said Harry, as he counted the lot. “That wasn’t bad, eh?”
“You’re right, Harry. We won’t get another such shot if we tramp all day.”
“I move we get back to the yacht. We have come a good distance, and it will be more than dinner time before we can make it.”
“I am with you. We can go out hunting again this afternoon, or try our hand at fishing.”