Mass George | Page 7

afterwards seemed to bound into renewed life, and the scent of the virgin forest was delightful. All worked hard, but there was the certain repayment, and in what must have been a very short time, the settlers had raised a delightful home in the wilderness, where all was so dreamy and peaceful that their weapons and military stores seemed an encumbrance, and many felt that they would have done more wisely if they had brought agricultural implements instead.
Before we left England, as I have told you, the adventurers who met at my father's rooms talked of the ruthless savage--the lurking Indian of the forest and prairie, and also of our neighbours the Spaniards; but as soon as we reached the place, it seemed to all that the Indians did not exist; and as to the Spaniards, they were far south, separated by long stretches of open land, forests, river, and swamp, and might, for aught we knew, be at the other side of the world.
I was sitting indoors one bright sunny day, and I had just reached finishing distance with a Latin translation my father had left me to do, when I heard a quick "Hist!" Looking up, I saw Morgan at the window.
"'Most done?" he said.
"Yes."
"Then come along, I'll show you something."
I bounded out, to find him armed with a stick about six feet long, provided with a little fork at the end made by driving in a couple of nails and bending them out.
"What is it?" I cried, excitedly.
"Enemy. Get yourself a good stout stick."
"Rake-handle do?"
"Yes, capital."
I ran to the tool-shed and came back directly, panting.
"Now," I said, "what enemy is it--an alligator?"
"No. You said you didn't believe there were any snakes here. I've got one to show you now."
"Yes; but where?"
"Never you mind where. All you've got to do is to creep after me silent like; and when you see me pin him down with this fork, you can kill him."
"But what a cowardly way," I cried; "it isn't fair."
"Well, look you, I never did see such a boy as you are, Master George. Do you know what sort of a snake it is?"
"How should I? You wouldn't tell me."
"Well, you talk as if it was a little adder, foot and half long, or a snake at home that you might pick up in your hand. Why, it's a real rattlesnake."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, excitedly.
"Over six foot long, and as thick as my wrist."
"Pooh!" I said, with my imagination full of boa-constrictors big enough to entwine and crush us up. "That's nothing!"
"Nothing! Do you know one bite from a fellow like this will kill a man? And you talk about fighting fair. Nice lot of fairness in the way they fight. You come along, and promise to be very careful, or I shan't go."
"Oh, I'll be careful," I said.
"But if you feel afraid, say so, and I'll go alone."
"I don't feel afraid," I replied; "and if I did," I added with a laugh, "I wouldn't say I was."
"Not you," he muttered, and he held up a finger, and led the way down by the garden, and from thence into the uncleared forest, where a faint track wandered in and out among the great, tall, pillar-like trunks whose tops shut out the light of day, all but where at intervals what seemed to us like rays of golden dust, or there were silvery-looking lines of finest cobweb stretching from far on high, but which proved to be only delicate threads of sunshine which had pierced the great canopy of leaves.
Beyond this I knew that there was an opening where all was warm and glowing that was subdued and gloomy now, and it was not long before I saw, without a doubt, that Morgan was making for this clearing, and in all probability for one of the patches of stony ground that lay full in the sunshine, baked and hot.
It was very cool and silent in among the trees, whose great trunks towered up so high, and though we could hear a chirp now and then far above us in the leaves, all was as still as possible, not so much as a beetle or fly breaking the silence with its hum.
There was the opening at last, and as we neared it, the tree-trunks stood out like great black columns against the warm golden light.
Morgan held up his hand, and for the moment I felt as if we were going to do something very treacherous, till I recalled reading about some one having died twenty minutes after the bite of one of these snakes, and that made me feel more merciless, as I followed my leader, who kept picking his way, so that his feet should not light upon some dead twig which would give forth a snap.
The next minute