Danville scrambled up through tangled brush to the summit of the overgrown mound which enclosed the cave. Smoke was still coming from the hole; the place looked like a miniature volcano in the crater of which lay Skinny, the long branch which he had used tight against him like a stilt. "Don't--don't touch me," he breathed almost in anguish; "keep away--look--the snake." Danville could hardly believe his eyes. "He bit you?" he asked quickly. "No he didn't--he's sort of asleep or something--don't scare him--he came out where I made a hole so--so as to save you. He's dopy from the smoke, I guess." "He's not so dopy," said Danville, as the reptile shot out his tongue; "he's awake enough to do that. Lie still, that isn't what he bites you with; don't get excited. I wish I had my scarf if we need a twister."* * Meaning a tourniquet, or bandage drawn tight by turning an inserted stick. For a moment he paused, thinking and glancing about. Skinny lay trembling, not daring to stir. Somehow he was more fearful and excited than he had been before his friend's arrival; something was to be done and it might precipitate a fatal sequel. "Anyway you got safe," he said. "Keep still--I know--now just, just a second," Danville said. He moved with lightning stealth now. Quickly he took out his jack-knife, opened it, and held it between his teeth while he hurried to the nearest tree and pulled off a large piece of bark which was already warping away from the dried trunk. This was perhaps a foot in diameter. He next pulled off his shirt, tore a strip from it and looking about picked up a stick suitable for his purpose. Thus completely prepared he stole up, motioning Skinny to lie still, and laid the stick and the torn strip of shirt on the ground within easy reach. Then with lightning dexterity he slipped the piece of bark downward along Skinny's leg till it was stopped by the snake's coiled body. But it lay between that cruel head and Skinny's flesh, and being rounded to the curve of the tree, it fitted rather nicely. With another movement that can only be described as instantaneous, he plunged his jackknife into the drowsy reptile's head. He was none too quick, for even as he did so its horrid tongue was darting, and scarcely had the knife touched its scaly head when its fangs were plunged against the bark. But there ended its deadly power; it was pinned to the protecting bark, and a trickle of blood flowed from Skinny's leg where the knife had pierced through. There was a spasmodic tightening of the coils around his little limb, then a loosening bringing infinite relief. [Illustration: HE PLUNGED HIS JACK-KNIFE INTO THE REPTILE'S HEAD.] "Did he bite me?" Skinny asked pitifully. "No, he's gone out of that business," said Danville, lifting Skinny's big implement of rescue with the snake hanging limply over it. "See? Look at the size of him, will you! That was a blamed funny thing to happen, hey! He got busy just too late."