Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1883-09-27
Snakes I'm the Grass.
IDrtroIiPrns Press.l

lOub anu weary. leu lcct away oiO
the embers Of the fire on which the
evening meal was cooked Between the
wagon and the fire is the rude bed OF
robes and blankets on which mother
and children are sleeping. On the
other side of the vehicle stand the
horses, munching at the short, sweet
grass or listening to the far-otf voice
of the wolf.
That is the back ground. In the
foreground sentinel sits with his
back to the solitary cottonwood. AT
his right-hand runs little brook--at
his left is the boundless prairie DER
which night has spread her mantle.
Forty feet away are wife and child
rem trusting in his vigilance. Over
head gray white clouds are. driving
across the starlit heavens, and the
moan of the wind has an uneasy, ner-
vous sound. Away out on the prairie
the wolf gallops from knoll to knoll
and snuffs the air, and the coyote
gnaws at the bleached bones of the
buffalo and utters his short, sharp
cries OF hunger.
Is there danger? All day long, as
the tired horses pulled the wagon at
a slow pace, the emigrant has carefully
scanned the circle about him, but
without cause for uneasiness. He
knows he is in the Indian country and
for the last twenty-four hours his
nerves have been braced to hear their
dreaded war.whoop and to catch sight
of band riding down upon him.
1t is midnight as We find him. His
ear has been as keen as fox's and
his eye has not rested for a moment.
The stakes are human lives-his life
with the rest. The odds are ten to
one against him.
"Ah! If we were back at the old
home in Ohiol You remember the
old farmhouse hidden away among the
cherry and pear trees? There is the
highway, lined with dusty May weeds,
Half a mile below is the quaint little
school, i-house where the children
learned their A. B. G. Half mile
above is the bridge across the"
The sentinel rouses up and rubs his
eyes. 1t was the creek talking to
him. AS he listened to its monoto-
nous babble it suddenly began to con-
verse in plain tongue. For moment
he is thrilled and alarmed. He looks
keenly around and he listens with
bated breath. There are the same
sounds--the wall of the coyote--the
munching of the horses-the babbling
of the brook-now and then half
grown from one of the children sleep
ing an uneasy sleep. And now the
brook talks again:
"There was the big brown barn full
of sweet-smelling hay-the pasture
lot with its cows-the pond in which
the bare legged children used to wade
the orchard with its burden of fruit.
Don't you remember how you used to
sit on the stoop at evening-time and
smoke your pipe and watch the child
rem at play on the grass? How peace
full everything was! There was a
drowsy feeling in the summer air
the lazy hum of insects-the low
songs of the good wife as she rocked
baby to s!eep-why, you sometimes
fell asleep and let your pipe drop from
The brook babbled and the man
slept. Aye! the sentinel who had five
lives in his keeping slept and dreamed,
and in his dreams wandered back tc
the old home and heard the old, ia.
miliar sounds.
"Sh!" 1t was rustic in the grass
Turn to the left little more. There
it is! Thirty feet from the sleeping
man a rattlesnake rears its head
above the grass and looks around. Its
eyes CLEAN like stars. The neck
swells. the tongue flashes in and out
and it coils and uncoils itself as if in
fierce bombat. Now it is advancing
now it swerves to the right, now tc
the left; now 1t halts and coils itsel1
to strike. 1t might creep up and bury
its fangs in the flesh of the sleeping
man, and it will! 1t creeps again. Il
glides through the grass like a CLEAN
now to.the right, now to the left
now straight ahead.
"S.s-s-h!"
The serpent halts. Twenty feel
more and it could have struck the
sleeper, but some movement of his has
alarmed it, and it glides away for fifty
feet as fast as shadow travels.
Now look beyond the snake! Is il
a second serpent worming its way
over the ground to surround the sleep.
er with peril Is it wolf or panther
creeping forward to make victim:
Now you can see more clearly. There
is the scalp lock and feathers-the
dark face-the cleaning eyes-the
shut teeth and bronzed throat of a
Blackfoot warrior. A courier from
one branch of his tribe to another; he
has discovered the encampment, cir.
cled around it twice, and is now creep.
ing upon the man who sleeps instead
of watches.
How softly he moves! A panther
stealing upon listening doe would
not exercise more care. Almost inch
by inch, and yet he is slowly approach
inp Ha u.e hundrad foot awav