Helen was at her side almost instantly, her face drawn and tense.
“Did it strike you?” she asked, deep anxiety marking her words.
Janet, still dazed by the shock of hurling herself to the ground, looked up and managed a wan smile. She shook her head and with Helen giving her a hand, got to her feet.
“No, I’m all right. Just scared a little. It was so sudden.”
“The snake was coiled up on the back of the rock. I saw it just as you sat down. For a second I was speechless; then I seemed to explode into a scream,” explained Helen.
“It’s a good thing for me that you did,” said Janet. “I don’t think the snake missed it more than inches. We’d better get some stout clubs if we’re going to do any more climbing around these rocks.”
“One thing, we’re not going to sit down on any of them,” declared Helen, who was watching the pile of rocks with open suspicion. There was still that fetid smell in the air, but no sign of any snakes.
They looked about for sticks which could be used for clubs and Helen found several sizeable sticks which would serve that purpose.
The incident had unnerved them more than they cared to confess and they sat down to rest on the sandy soil, taking care that nothing was near them which would conceal a snake.
The afternoon deepened and the sun was about to sink over the western hills when they roused themselves and started on toward the summit of the promontory they had been climbing.