The professor, who had been bending over the unconscious lad, shook his head.
“Merely shock, and possibly a sudden weakening of the heart,” he said. Taking a small vial from a pocket medicine-case, the professor forced some of its contents between Ding-dong’s lips. In a few moments the boy was able to sit up and take notice of things about him.
By this time the convulsive dying movements of the snake had ceased, and it lay still.
“Ugh! What a monster!” shuddered Ding-dong. “I can feel his terrible folds around me yet.”
As usual, when under the stress of emotion, Ding-dong’s hesitating manner of speech had left him, and he enunciated quite plainly.
“How did it happen?” asked the professor.
“I was looking for wood,” explained Ding-dong, “and thought I had found a f-f-f-fi-fine c-c-chunk of timber. But w-w-when I pu-pu-put my hand on it, the ber-ber-blessed thing turned out to be a snake. I yelled at the top of my voice, and started to run, but before I had gone far I tripped and fell. The n-n-n-n-next instant the snake had me.”
“Joe and I were a short distance off,” chimed in Nat, taking up the story, “and heard Ding-dong’s yell. We hurried to him, and you can imagine how horrified we were to see him struggling with that serpent. Joe raised his rifle, but then lowered it again. He was scared to shoot at the snake for fear of hitting Ding-dong. But at last we saw a chance. I fired once and Joe twice.”
“And all three bullets penetrated the brute in and about the head,” struck in Mr. Tubbs, who had been examining the snake.
“So they did,” declared the professor, as he and the boys joined the ruddy-headed one; “good shooting, boys. This snake is of the boa variety. They are common all along this coast, but usually they are thickest near rivers. As a rule, they will not attack human beings, although cases have been recorded of their doing so. I imagine that it was Master Bell’s having grabbed him that angered his snakeship. Shall we take the skin for a souvenir?”