f Fred
Greenwood's rifle-barrel upon the hideous reptile coiled in the scrub
bushes inflicted a fatal wound, though the serpent continued blindly
striking for a minute or two longer, and responded viciously to the
attack of the scared and angry Jack Dudley, who struck it several times
after it had ceased to struggle and all danger was past. A person's
first impulse, after being bitten by a snake, is to kill it, after which
he looks after the wound he may have received.

But Fred had heard the dreadful exclamation of his comrade and caught
him by his arm as he was about to bring down his last blow upon the
reptile.

"O Jack, are you sure he bit you?" he asked in a tremulous voice.

"Yes; I felt the sting in my left ankle, like the prick of a needle."

Dropping upon the ground, he hastily unfastened and turned down his
legging. There, sure enough, was a tiny red spot, with a single drop of
blood oozing from it.

"The rattlesnake has two fangs," said Fred; "but there is only one wound
here."

"It wasn't a direct blow, I suppose," said the white-faced Jack, who had
good reason to be terrified over the occurrence, for the rattlesnake,
although ranking below the cobra in the virulence of its venom, is the
most deadly serpent in America, and the veteran hunter fears it more
than the most savage of wild animals.

Fred stooped down and examined the wound closely. A thrilling suspicion
was becoming certainty in his mind.

"When did you feel that bite?" he asked.

"At the moment I landed on my feet. What a dreadful poison it is! I can
feel it all through my body; and don't you see that my ankle has begun
to swell?"

Fred continued to study the wound, pressing his finger around it and
bending close to the limb. Had the hurt been caused by the fang of a
serpent he would have tried to suck out the venom. Suddenly he looked up
with glowing face.

"Now, Jack, my dear fellow, don't be frightened; you haven't been bitten
at all."

"What do you mean?"

"At the moment you landed on your feet I was beating the life out of the
snake, and he was giving his whole attention to me. He did not try to
bite you till you turned about and began striking at him."

"But what made that wound?" asked Jack.

"I suspect the cause."

He drew up the legging and examined the part that covered the spot in
the ankle which had received the blow.

"There! I knew it! That's what did it!"

He had plucked out a small, needle-pointed thorn. T