uttering a yell of
horror he dropped it, for as he tugged a tiny snake thrust its head out
of one of the barrels and opened its jaws menacingly, then closed them,
and the sun shone upon its flickering forked tongue, which darted out
again and again through the natural opening in the closed jaws.

"Ah! Take care!" cried Sir James; and the two blacks turned as if moved
by the same impulse and scrambled to the nearest pile of stones, to
stand there holding on to one another, their superstition strengthened
by what they believed to be instant punishment being brought down upon
the heads of those who had dared to disturb the resting-place of the
dead.

"Oh, I say, Dean!" cried Mark, as he picked up the double rifle, noting
as he raised it from the ground that the snake had shrunk back out of
sight into its novel refuge. "I'll soon settle him," he said. "Yes,
all right," he continued, as he raised the gun so that he could examine
the breech. "It's all right; it's loaded. I'll soon finish him;" and
raising the piece higher, holding it as if it were a pistol, he drew
trigger, and a volley of echoes followed the report, the two blacks
being already in full flight.

"Anybody see him go?" said Mark merrily, and as he spoke he let the
rifle slide through his hands till he grasped the muzzle, while the butt
rested between his feet. "New way of killing snakes," cried the boy;
and then with a look of horror, wild-eyed and strange, he held the
muzzle as far from him as he could, half stunned by realising the fact
that he had fired the wrong barrel, as he saw the little snake glide
rapidly out of the mouth of the second barrel, play for a moment or two
over his hands, and then drop in amongst the loose stones and disappear.

"Mark, my boy!" cried Sir James excitedly. "Don't say you are bitten!"

The boy drew a deep sigh, his face turning ghastly white the while, and
then, "I must, father. It was only a sharp prick, but--"

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

THE DOCTOR'S LANCET.

There was a peculiar dreamy look in the injured boy's eyes, as he turned
them from his father to Dean and back.

"Here, let me come," cried the doctor. "Let him sit down on that
stone--feel faint, my lad?"

"No-o," faltered Mark; "only strange and queer. Is it a poisonous
snake?"

"I don't know. I hope not," said the doctor. "I only had a glimpse of
it, and it's gone. Where did you feel the prick?"

"In this finger. No, no--don't touch it!"