Wild Western Scenes Part 45

"You're a tarnation coward, that's what you are! But you can't help yourself," replied Sneak.

"I'll jump off and run!" said Joe, preparing to leap to the ground.

"You jest do now, and you'll have forty sarpents wrapped round you in less than no time."

At that moment two or three racers swept between them with their heads elevated as high as Joe's knees, and entered the area.

"Oh goodness!" cried Joe, drawing up his legs.

"Git down and git your pole," said Sneak.

"I wouldn't do it if it was made of gold!"

"If you say you'll fight the snakes, I'll git it for you--I'm a going to stay here till they're all killed," continued Sneak.

"Give it to me, then--I'll smash their brains out the next time!" said Joe, with desperate determination.

"But you musn't hit me agin!" said Sneak, dismounting and handing up the weapon to Joe, and then leaping on the steed again.

"Sneak, you're no better than a snake, to bring me into such a sc.r.a.pe as this!" said Joe, leaning forward and scanning the black ma.s.s of serpents at the pool.

In a few minutes they whipped forward, Sneak in advance, and again they were pa.s.sing through the army of snakes. This time Joe did good service. He ma.s.sacred one of the coiled rattlesnakes at a blow, and his pony kicked a puffing viper to atoms. Sneak paused a moment at the pool, and dealt his blows with such rapidity that nearly all the black racers that survived glided swiftly into the tall gra.s.s, and one of the largest was seen by Joe to run up the trunk of a solitary blasted tree that stood near the pool, and enter a round hole about ten feet from the ground.

But if the serpents were mostly dispersed from the area around the pool, they were by no means all destroyed; and when the equestrians were again in the tall gra.s.s, they found them whizzing furiously about the hoofs of their horses. Once or twice Sneak's horse sprang suddenly forward in pain, being stung on the ham or shoulder by the tails of the racers as they flew past with almost inconceivable rapidity.

"Oh! St. Peter! Sneak!" cried Joe, throwing back his head, and lifting up his knees nearly to his chin.

"Ha! ha! ha! did one of 'em cut you, Joe? They hurt like fury, but their tails ain't pisen. Look what a whelk they've made on the hoss."

"Sneak, why don't you get away from this nasty place! One of them shot right over the pony's neck a while ago, and came very near hitting me on the chin."

"You must hit 'em as they come. Yander comes one--now watch me!"

Saying this, Sneak turned the steed so as to face a tremendous racer about forty paces distant, that was approaching with the celerity of the wind with its head above the tall gra.s.s. When it came within reach of his rod, he bestowed upon it a blow that entirely severed the head, and the impetus with which it came caused the body to fly over the steed, and falling upon the neck of the pony, with the life yet remaining (for they are constrictors,) instantly wrapped in a half dozen folds around it! Pete snorted aloud, and, springing forward, ran a hundred paces with all the fleetness of which he was capable. But being unable to shake off the terrible inc.u.mbrance, with his tongue hanging out in agony, he turned back and ran directly for the horse.

When he came up to the steed, he pushed his head under his neck, manifesting the greatest distress, and stamping and groaning as if becoming crazed.

"Dod! let me git hold of him!" cried Sneak, bending forward and seizing the snake by the tail. The long head-less body gave way gradually, and becoming quite relaxed fell powerless and dead to the earth.

"Oh, Sneak, let's go!" said Joe, trembling, his face having turned as pale as death while Pete was dashing about in choking agony under the tight folds of the serpent.

"Smash me if I go as long as there's a snake left!" replied Sneak, striking down another huge racer; but this one, having its back broken, remained stationary.

Thus he continued to strike down the snakes as long as any remained on the field; and, as they became scarce, Joe grew quite valorous, and did signal service. At length the combat ceased, and not a living serpent could be seen running.

"Sneak, we've killed them all--huzza!" cried Joe, flourishing his rod.

"Yes, but you didn't do much--you're as big a coward as ever."

"Oh, I wasn't _afraid_ of them, Sneak," said Joe; "I was only a little cautious, because it was the first time I ever went a snaking."

"Yes, you was mighty cautious! if your bridle hadn't broke, you'd have been home long ago."

"Pshaw, Sneak!" said Joe; "you're much mistaken. But how many do you think we've killed?"

"I suppose about a quarter of a cord--but I've heard tell of men's killing a cord a day, easy."

"You don't say so! But how does it happen so many are found together?

When I go out I can never find more than a dozen or so."

"There's a _snake den_ under that clear place," said Sneak, "where they stay all winter--but its not as big a den as some I've seen."

"I don't want to see more than I have to-day!" said Joe, whipping past the steed as they started homewards, having mended his bridle. But as he paced along by the decayed tree mentioned above, he saw the glistening eyes of the large racer peering from the hole it had entered, and he gave it a smart blow on the head with his rod and spurred forward. The next moment, when Sneak came up, the enraged serpent sprang down upon him, and in a twinkling wound himself tightly round his neck! Sneak's eyes started out of his head, and being nearly strangled he soon fell to the earth. Joe looked on in amazement, but was too much frightened to a.s.sist him. And Sneak, unable to ask his aid, only turned his large eyes imploringly towards him, while in silence he vainly strove to tear away the serpent with his fingers. He thrust one hand in his pocket for his knife, but it had been left behind! He then held out his hand to Joe, and in this dumb and piteous manner begged him to lend him his knife. Joe drew it from his pocket, but could not brace his nerves sufficiently to venture within the suffocating man's reach. At length he bethought him of his pole, and opening the blade thrust it in the end of it and cautiously handed it to Sneak. Sneak immediately ran the sharp steel through the many folds of the snake, and it fell to the ground in a dozen pieces! The poor man's strength then completely failed him, and he rolled over on his back in breathless exhaustion. Joe rendered all the a.s.sistance in his power, and his companion soon revived.

"Dod rot your skin!" exclaimed Sneak, getting up and seizing Joe by the collar.

"Hang it, it wasn't _me_! it was the _snake!_" said Joe, extricating his neck from his companion's grasp.

"What'd you _hit_ the sarpent for?"

"Why, I wanted to kill him."

"Then why didn't you help me to get it away from my neck?"

"You didn't _ask_ me," said Joe, with something like ingenuousness, though with a most provoking application.

"I couldn't speak! The tarnation thing was squeezing my neck so tight I couldn't say a word. But I _looked_ at you, and you might 'ave understood me. Never mind, you'll git a snake hold of you some of these days."

"I'll keep a sharp look out after this," said Joe. "But Sneak, I'll swear now you were not born to be hung."

"You be dod rot!" replied Sneak, leaping on the steed, and turning towards the river.

"I would have cut him off myself, Sneak," said Joe, musing on the odd affair as they rode briskly along, "if I hadn't been afraid of cutting your throat. I knew you wasn't born to be hung."

"Ha! ha! ha! that was the tightest place that ever I was in," said Sneak, regaining his good humour, and diverted at the strange occurrence.

"Didn't he bite you?" asked Joe.

"No, a black snake can't bite--they havn't got any fangs. If it had been a rattlesnake or a viper, I'd been a gone chicken. I don't think I'll ever leave my knife behind again, even if I wasn't to go ten steps from home. Dod--my neck's very sore."

The companions continued the rest of the way in silence. When they reached home, and returned the horses to the stable, they proceeded down the path to Roughgrove's house to report their adventure.

Glenn and Mary, William and La-u-na, were seated under the spreading elm-tree, engaged in some felicitous conference, that produced a most pleasing animation in their features.

Mary immediately demanded of Joe a recital of his adventures that morning. He complied without reluctance, and his hearers were frequently convulsed with laughter as he proceeded, for he added many embellishments not narrated by the author. Sneak bore their merriment with stoical fort.i.tude, and then laughed as heartily as themselves at his own recent novel predicament.

La-u-na asked Sneak if he had been bitten by any of the poisonous snakes. Sneak of course replied in the negative, but at the same time desired to know the name of the plant that was used by the Indians with universal success when wounded by the fangs of the rattlesnake.

The girl told him it was the _white plantain_ that grew in the prairies.

"I'll go and get some right straight," said Joe, "because I don't know what moment I may be bitten."