THE SNAKE IN THE SLEEPING BAG G305

 THE SNAKE IN THE SLEEPING BAG

It was morning. I finished my breakfast and waited for the rest of the team. It was going to be another hot day in the jungle. The heat took the strength out of us. But we had a job to do. I was the head engineer. It was up to me to get the four of us moving.

Vargas and our Indian guide joined me. But Al wasn't up yet. I went to wake him up.

On the way to his sleeping bag, I called, "Al, wake up!" Al didn't move. Then, when I was almost up to him, I saw his eyes. They were open—and rolling wildly. His face was as gray as ashes.

I stopped. Al's eyes warned me. Then his lips moved. I crawled close and heard his whisper. “Snake!”

My eyes followed Al's—down to the lump over his stomach. My blood froze. A snake was in Al's sleeping bag!

Another sound from me and the snake might strike. I inched backward. Then I turned and tiptoed toward the Indian and Vargas and in a whisper told them what I had seen. We stared at one another, not daring to speak out loud.

“It's our own fault,” I thought bitterly. “We should have cut away the jungle brush. There's always a chance of a snake hiding there.” But we had talked it over and decided we would be safe on the top of the hill. How wrong we were!

The three of us tiptoed toward Al. We stared silently at the lump the snake made in the bag. From its shape, it could be a bushmaster—the most deadly snake of all!

Vargas reached for his gun. But Al's eyes rolled from left to right. That meant “No.” And I knew why. How could we know where the snake's head was? And if Vargas's shot missed the head, the snake would strike at Al. We didn't dare try a shot.

Suddenly the Indian spoke, “Smoke” It was just one word, but it broke the silence like a shot. And the snake moved! We held our breath. Slowly the snake settled itself again. Quietly we moved away.

Then the Indian showed us what he meant. He acted as if he were smoking. Then he cupped his hands. He puffed breath in and out. On the ground, he drew a sleeping bag. He got out his knife and acted out cutting into the bag.

Vargas and I got the idea. Cut a hole in Al's sleeping bag. Smoke out the snake! Yes, it might work. Vargas and I nodded.

The Indian began tearing up damp grass. He piled it up near our breakfast fire. Vargas emptied his tool bag and left the bag with the Indian. Then Vargas and I crawled back to Al.

I studied the part of the sleeping bag around Al's feet. Then quietly but quickly my knife cut into the bag, making a hole the size of an orange. Vargas waved, and the Indian brought me the tool bag filled with smoke. We were ready to rush away when the snake moved. If it started out and sensed that we were near, it might strike Al.

I put the smoke bag to the hole in the sleeping bag. Soon smoke curled around Al's face. Tears came to his eyes. Suddenly the snake twisted. The smoke was doing its work!

We dashed away. But now the smoke was gone. The snake settled back on Al's stomach.

What were we going to do now?

The sun was now high in the sky. Al's face was washed in sweat. I knew how hot that sleeping bag could be. I looked at the rain cover above the sleeping bag. At least it gave Al shade.

Suddenly I remembered something Al had told me. “Snakes are cold-blooded,” he said. “Their body heat changes with the air around them. They can heat up fast. A half hour in the hot jungle sun will kill them.”

I knew what we had to do. Excitedly, I acted it out for the others. Remove the rain cover and let the sun heat the sleeping bag. That would drive the snake out. Al spoke with his eyes, “Yes!”

We took the rain cover away. The sun beat down on AI and the bag. He looked half dead, his eyes closed tight. The heat was like fire. Could AI hold out? “Just a little longer,” I prayed. The Indian and Vargas were praying too.

The snake made a small move. The sun was doing its work! Quickly we slid into the brush and then watched.

The snake twisted, humped up, then became flat. Then it moved up slowly toward the open end of the sleeping bag. A heavy, evil head appeared, right next to AI's face. The snake was a bushmaster—a deadly bushmaster!

The head turned this way and that. Then the ugly brown body poured itself through the neck of the sleeping bag. It slid past AI's face and moved toward a nearby bush.

Vargas pulled out his gun. Crack! The snake was blown to pieces.