### 281

Pressing yourself flat against the tunnel wall, you draw on your skill to mask the warmth of your body. Nausea rises in your throat as the loathsome snakes slither across your feet and coil around your legs, but to them you are of no more interest than the cold and clammy stones that cover the tunnel floor. The snakes move on, leaving you shaken but unharmed.

Turn to 346.

Text copyright © 1986 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1986 Gary Chalk.