The mate hated very much to make the move, but not willing to show too much cowardice, he waded ashore slowly and with extreme caution. Securing the weapon, he rushed back to the others, but the snake did not show itself again.
"Well, this looks as if we were in a pickle," remarked Larry, who, it must be said, was as cool as any of them—although this is not saying a great deal. "Here we are, and our ship on the other side of the island, and nothing to do but to tramp through that brush and over those rocks, and perhaps stir up another of those snakes. I've heard they often travel in pairs."
"No! no! you don't catch me cutting through the brush again!" ejaculated Hobson. "That bloody reptile was too much for me. Ugh! my blood is running cold yet. If I was to meet him in the bushes, I'd die, I know I should, and I'm no more of a coward than most men at that."
At these words each of the little party looked at the others. It was truly an uncomfortable situation in which to be placed. What was best to be done?
