“A horned viper!” exclaimed Bob fearfully, recognizing the long, sinister body that was coiled almost at their feet.
“And it’s going to strike!” cried Joe. “Get your pistol—quick! We’ll both fire at it. Oh, how I wish we had our rifles!”
The snake was preparing to lunge forward, its terrible head swaying slowly from side to side. Whether or not the fangs contained poison, the boys did not know, but they knew they could not take a chance.
Neither Bob nor Joe was an outstanding shot with a revolver, and they felt rather panic-stricken as they raised the weapons and took aim.
After a few seconds that seemed to the youths like hours, Bob pulled the trigger.
A moment later the cold sweat burst out on his forehead, as he saw that he had missed. Before he could take another aim, the reptile would be upon him, a mass of scaly ferocity.
Bang!
Joe’s pistol spoke out, and the bullet caught the snake in the neck, just as it was about to strike.
Another shot from Joe’s automatic struck in a vital spot. The fiendish head turned violently, then fell to the ground with a thud. The tail twitched about momentarily, and as life passed out, the horrible body lay still.