Every second brought more light flooding through the bush, and he gave up trying to call the others for fear of rousing the dogs.
The sun rolled just clear of the horizon and as the morning light washed away the shadows before his eyes the whole landscape lay revealed in stark clarity. Then, suddenly, he was sure he felt the snake move again. Was it just another false alarm? But no, the movement was more definite this time. His terror reached a climax as he felt it uncoil and, with a long liquid thrust, weave its way once more towards his head. He closed his eyes so tight that it hurt them as the snake's endless length brushed past his cheek; then with a whip it was gone.
He rolled over, gave a stangled croak which woke the others. The undammed blood in his body ran riot, and the pain cut off sharply his incoherent babble of words. But, just before unconciousness enshrouded him, he knew he had just escaped death; he knew his death had been a bite away.
. . . THE END. . .