Now something happened, trivial and barely perceptible, but it relieved
the frightful situation of the moment. The flashlight flickered; it was
less than a flicker; a scarcely visible flutter of the light for the
fraction of a second. But the alert reptile projected its head like
lightning. Its appalling rattle sounded in the hollow shaft; it hissed
and its tongue darted.
Brent Gaylong knew what that suggestion of a flicker meant; he had
tinkered often enough with the defective connection in that troublesome
flashlight. Should he cast the stone down on the horrible thing’s head?
Suppose he should miss? Again the light flickered. Fortunately, that
hideous, flat head was in the circle of brightness cast by the
flashlight. It was poised menacingly a few inches above a flat bit of
rock.
Like lightning, Brent raised his right foot and planted it on the
reptile’s neck. He had intended to crush the head but missed it, and
there was the dreadful writhing thing pinned down but not killed. Though
Brent’s foot had missed its mark and left him in a terrible predicament,
still, the move had been well considered. Considering all the chances,
it was better than casting down the rock.
Brent’s shoes were equipped each with a triangular metal plate upon the
sole, with corners bent up so as to form three spikes. They were running
shoes and Brent had worn them thinking that they might serve him best in
descending into the well. Though he had not stamped out the serpent’s
life, still he might have done worse than he did, for one of the metal
plates with its bent corners pinned the snake more effectually than a
shiny piece of sole leather could have done. Brent believed that this
plate, though its turned corners had not stabbed the snake, held the
squirming reptile firmly within it. He did not relax the pressure and
the snake seemed unable to do more than writhe and squirm with horrible
contortions.
Soon, in the course of its frantic maneuvers, the snake coiled itself
around Brent’s right leg and he felt the embracing pressure of the
loathsome, winding, tightening body. He pressed harder with his foot and
this pressure seemed to communicate itself to the snake, for it coiled
tighter around its captor’s leg and its menacing rattle sounded hollow
in the dank well.
It was like a tug of war, the snake braced, by its coiled position,
around its captor’s leg and pulling desperately to free its neck from
the trap which held it fast. And as Brent tightened the pressure, so the
snake drew harder, and as it drew harder, Brent could feel its pressure
on his leg. The situation was appalling.
One advantage the loathsome, coiling thing had in this fearful
encounter; it had no nerves to give way under the harrowing strain. Its
effort seemed easier, less frantic, less fatiguing than Brent’s. Such a
situation could not last. Brent thought the reptile was not suffering,
that the plate on his sole held it only but did not squeeze it much;
certainly did not crush it.
The flat, mottled head with its lightning tongue rested on the rock, and
the beady little eyes looked at the ball of light. The snake’s head and
Brent’s foot lay in the circle of brightness. Comparative darkness
withheld from view the body coiled around Brent’s leg.
Once he felt of the reptile; it seemed smooth and damp. He took his hand
away shuddering and pressed tighter with his foot. As he did so the
snake hissed. Then Brent heard the awful rattle near his knee. Should he
touch the tail? It was harmless but he could not touch it. He just
pressed tighter with his foot and set his leg like a brace. And the
snake adjusted its winding body to this straightening and increased
pressure, this tautness of the leg. And the tongue darted incessantly.
Then the flashlight went out.