The next moment there came a horrid hiss, and the thirty-foot anaconda lunged forward.
CHAPTER XXII
Lost in the Wilds of Brazil
THE largest snake of Brazil was about to strike and enfold the youths in its terrible coils. And that could mean but one thing—death in an awful form.
Slowly Bob and Joe raised their rifles and took careful aim at the horrible head. They must not miss. Here, if ever, was a need for accurate shooting.
There came another hiss, and the reptile glided still closer, its wicked eyes gleaming in the sunlight. It was moving stealthily, as if wondering which of the boys to make for.
“Now!” whispered Bob and a second later pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Two rifles spoke, but only one found the mark. It would have been a difficult task for even an expert marksman to strike that small swaying head. And Bob and Joe were not expert marksmen, although the former was much better than the average.
But the bullet had only glanced the top of the head and had done no real damage. The reptile was only more enraged.