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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


In an instant Harry was at my side, and we both leaped forward
with our spears, slashing at the tentacle which still held
Desiree in its grasp. Others writhed on the ground about our
feet, but feebly. There came a sudden cry from Harry, and his
spear clattered on the ground as he opened his arms to receive
Desiree's unconscious body, which came tumbling down with the
severed coil still wrapped about it.
But there was life in the reptile's immense body. It staggered
and swayed from side to side in drunken agony. Its monstrous head
rolled about, sweeping the air in a prodigious circle. The poison
of its breath came to us in great puffs. There was something
supremely horrible about the thing in its very helplessness, and
I was shuddering violently as I stooped to help Harry lift
Desiree from the ground and carry her away.
We did not go far, for we were barely able to carry her. We laid
her on the hard rock with her head in Harry's lap. Her body was
limp as a rag.
For many minutes we worked over her, rubbing her temples and
wrists, and pressing the nerve centers at the back of the neck,
but without effect.
"She is dead," said Harry with a curious calm.


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