they could stand, then without a word, gave them a shove forward.

Slowly and painfully the four proceeded. The Flying Buddies’ feet hurt with every step, and their tired bodies wavered from side to side as they went on and on. By that time they were going through what appeared to be a grassy section of the forest. The passage wound among huge trees, over piles of fallen timber, then, suddenly from ahead, they heard a wild shriek of terror, followed by a series of shrill earsplitting screams.

“Good Heavens, what they got into?” Lang panted.

“Get on,” Mills urged. He slipped his hand under Bob’s arm and helped him forward, while Jim and Lang stumbled along as quickly as possible. Presently they came to a section where piles of rotten vegetation lined both sides of the route, and by the dim light Lang cast ahead, they made out one body lying still, while the other battled furiously with some hissing object that lashed and struck with thunderous blows.

“Snakes,” Bob whispered.

They saw a second man borne down to the ground and after a convulsive struggle for a moment, he too lay still. The four stopped horrified in their tracks. For minutes they stood staring too paralyzed to go forward or back, then Bob saw the great snakes slide off to one side and disappear under the debris.

“Come on, walk carefully and be quick,” he panted, and started to run, forcing his aching feet to carry him on. Passing the spot they could see that their two companions had probably stumbled over the reptiles, angered them to instant attack, and were utterly defenseless against the poisonous brutes.

Hardly daring to breathe lest the snakes come out again, the four tiptoed forward, but in each hand of the leaders were small, deadly guns ready to destroy the snakes if they showed their heads. Beads of perspiration stood out on the four faces, and for the first time since they started, Lang neglected to keep an eye on the captives. Half an hour later the place was well behind them and they were traversing a sandy way which took them to a stream.

“I’ve got to have a drink,” Jim declared, and without further ado, he dropped flat and buried his face in the cool depths. Caldwell followed his example, and soon Mills and Lang were also stretched full length and drinking deeply.

“Maybe it’s poison but I don’t care,” Mills muttered.

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