Forest and Frontiers | Page 9

were several minutes coming up; but when
they did so they witnessed a veritable case of fascination--for the young
man was looking intently into the eyes of a large rattlesnake, coiled at
his feet; nor could the voices of all his friends arouse him. Being jerked

back with some violence, he instantly recovered his senses, but seemed
to be puzzled to recall the circumstances connected with his first view
of the snake. After a mental effort he explained, while the cold sweat
poured from his face, and his limbs were flaccid as an infant's, that the
sound of a rattle had caused him to stop short--that a pleasant halo
danced before his eyes, and sweet sounds met his ears--and that from
that instant until the conclusion of the trance, "he was as happy as he
ever expected to be!"
But now for the hardest knock of conviction. I will give it in the
language of the original narrator--premising that opponents to the
theory of serpent attraction auist knock under, or flatly contradict my
tale. In the latter event, I shall be compelled to settle the question as
Hodginson did his lawsuit, "by exhibiting the skin and parading the
witnesses."
"In the month of April, a few years back," commences the witness, "I
took my eldest chap, an eight year old boy, but stout and bold enough
for a twelve year old--and sauntered down to Beech river, to spend the
evening [Footnote: Evening, in this place, signifies from noon until
dark; that's the Southern and Western notion always.] fishing. Finding a
large beech, whose spreading roots formed a natural easy chair, with
arms to it, I threw my line into the stream, and myself into the cavity, to
take the thing deliberately as I generally do on such occasions. There
had been a rise in Beech river sufficient to muddy the water, and I
knew the only chance was for cat (bull-pouts the Yankees call them,) so
I chose a big hook and baited with a chunk of bacon, big enough for an
eight-pounder at least. That hook was a Limerick, for which I had sent
all the way to Porter, of 'The Spirit' --that hook I was never more to
behold.
"The boy chose for himself a steep place about ten yards below me, and
after sticking his pole in the mud, like a lazy fellow, as he is, amused
himself by counting the stamens in some sorrel-flowers that grew thick
thereabouts. I listened to his chatter for a while as he vacillated in his
numbers--eight--nine--ten--twelve--until my own thoughts took an
interesting turn, and I heard to more of him for several minutes. Then

the sound of his voice again struck one, but a little distance further
down stream, as he tailed out--'Oh, Pa, look!'
"Being well accustomed to his 'mares' nests,' I did not turn until he had
repeated several times the same words, and it was the singularity of his
tones at last that caused me to do it. His voice was indescribably
plaintive, clear, but low, and each vowel sound was drawn out at great
length, thus--' Oh-h-h-h, Pa-a-a-a, loo-oo-oo-ook, --with the
diminuendo, soft as the ring of a glass vessel, when struck. I have heard
Kyle, the flutist, while executing some of his thrilling touches, strike
his low notes very much like it. Slewing myself partly round in my seat,
I observed the little fellow standing bent forward, his hands stretched
out before him as if shielding his face from a bush, while his whole
body worked to and fro like the subjects in certain mesmeric
experiments that I nave observed when first they are brought under 'the
influence' of the operator. His face was partly turned from me, but the
cheek, which I saw was pale as death, and his cloth cap was trembling
on the back part of his head, as if forced there by the workings of the
scalp.
"This was as much as I had time to oberve in the first hasty glance.
Astonished at his actions, though not at all alarmed--or the first thought
that occurred to me as that he was trying to catch a young rabbit--I
called out in a half-jocular tone, well, bubby boy, what is it?' He made
no reply, but continued that strange murmur of '--Oh-h-h, Pa-a-a,
loo-oo-ook,' and took a couple of paces forward, not as though he
wished to advance, but more in the style of a person who has leaned too
far forward and moves his feet to recover the perpendicular. I arose,
rather slowly, for it was a mere prompting of curiosity, and walking
towards him, called out in a tone of some authority, 'John, come here!'
Now I can say, without boasting, that my domestic government is
thorough, and my children will promptly