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The World's Most Venomous
I let go of the leash and hauled myself back
into the basket. There were sirens wailing in the distance, and I could
hear about two thousand car horns, but I had problems of my own. Or
Harry did, and he's my little brother.
"Where is it?" I asked, pushing Myrtle to
one side and crouching beside Harry.
He leaned against one of the gas bottles and
pointed down at his leg. The large black spider was halfway up his shin.
It was a funnel-web, all right -- I'd seen them in books. This was a
male. They're smaller than females, and much more deadly.
"Will it bite me?" Harry asked.
"'Course not," I said, trying my best to
sound upbeat and confident. I didn't want him to panic. He was better
off not knowing it was a funnel-web. "Stay still while I brush it off."
But when I brought my hand near it, the
spider raised its front legs and the forward part of its body and
aggressively bared its fangs at me. Now I understood what Harry meant
when he said it wouldn't let him brush it off. This was one scary
spider! And a dangerous one too, -- according to the books I'd read, the
male Sydney tunnel-spider is the world's most venomous spider.
The basket swayed one way, then the other. I
had to steady myself against the second gas bottle. The chorus of car
horns no longer surrounded us, but floated up from below. We were flying
again. When I'd let go of the leash hooked around the front of the SUV,
the balloon had taken off and gone sailing away on the wind. Who knew
where we'd end up? But I would worry about that later. First I had to
deal with the deadly spider on Harry's leg.
"Why don't you squash it?" asked Jordan.
"Because it's on my leg, stupid!" said
Harry. "If Sam squashed it, it'll bite me."
"How can it bite you if it's dead?"
"Before it's dead, stupid!"
"Shut up, you two!" I snapped. Myrtle sensed
my nervousness and licked my face. I elbowed her aside. "Jordan, make
yourself useful and hold Myrtle."
The funnel-web started crawling. Very
slowly, it crept up towards Harry's dirt-smeared knee.
"It's going into my shorts," he breathed.
I couldn't let that happen. Once it was
under his clothing, the danger would be much worse. If Harry moved the
wrong way, and the fabric pushed against the funnel-web, it would bite
him for sure.
"Stay absolutely still," I said.
Moving both hands slowly, I gripped the
shorts on either side of Harry's leg and pressed the hem against his
knee, just above the spider. It reared up again, swiveling its deadly
fangs toward my right thumb, only an inch away. I wondered how fast
funnel-webs could move, and whether they could jump. But I forced myself
to remain still. Any sudden movements, and the spider might bite my
little brother.
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