“It’s going to strike!” gasped Joe. “And neither of us has a gun!”
Bob looked about wildly for some club or other weapon with which to defend himself and his friend, but saw none. For a second he thought of turning to run, but he soon realized that the deadly snake could probably move much faster than could he.
What greatly puzzled the youths was why the mamba appeared to be taking the aggressive. Perhaps, however, it was angered because frightened.
Just then the youths heard a shout from Mr. Lewis and then the report of a rifle.
The snake’s head was shattered into a horrid pulp, which almost sickened the boys. It writhed about feebly, then was still.
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton rushed toward their sons.
“You sure fired that shot in time,” said Bob with a shudder. “I was beginning to think it was all over with us.”
“It was a terribly narrow escape,” breathed Mr. Holton, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “We should have warned you about mambas.”
“Why?” asked Bob. “They aren’t here any more than anywhere else, are they?”