“Not here,” grunted one of them, already weary with previous effort in searching the bushes.
Bomba’s heart leaped at this indication of giving up the search. But it sank again when a voice that had authority in it said:
“Go in farther. Make sure.”
Grumblingly the men obeyed, and Bomba could hear them coming nearer. He tightened his hold on the revolver.
Suddenly there was a shriek of fright, and one of the savages jumped a foot into the air. Then he made a break for the open, shouting:
“Snake! Snake!”
His comrades followed, rushing with frantic, headlong haste into the clearing.
In a flash, Bomba, the jungle boy, comprehended what had happened. The intruder had stepped on the soft, yielding body of the dead serpent and had jumped to the conclusion that it was alive. Naturally, he had not waited to investigate, but had leaped out of the reach of the supposedly deadly fangs.
Now he stood outside the mass of branches and was jabbering excitedly as he told of his narrow escape.
The examination of that particular mass of branches stopped then and there. The men were reasonably certain, anyway, that their hoped-for victim was not there, and they were perfectly content to leave the snake in undisturbed possession.