Daily Yellowstone journal., 1889-07-23
DAN mircHeLus CLOSE CALL
Hs Believes Coal OIL Saved His Life, Even
~ II Did Not Cure His Badness.

uH Did Not Cure His aldness.
Before Dan Mitchell, one of the best
known men in northwestern PemnsyI.
vania, was appointed captain of police
in Erie, he was a resident OF the OF!
country. While prospecting for pc
troleum he had the narrowest escape
of his life, and he mas had many close
calls IN the past twenty years. This
adventure with a r~attlesnake in We
mango led him 10 remove 10 Erie,
where there are no venemous serpents,
it being a popularity of Erie county
that a RATHER was never seen on the
slope between the highest elevation
and the lake. All the rattlelnakes are
on the southern slopeof the watershed.
Mr.. Mitchell had TO 90 on foot
through a wild part OF Venango, his
horse having been stolen the night
before. The keeper of the little log
hotel from which he started warned
him to look out for snakes, and he
took the precaution TO cncase his legs
in thick leather boots that were sup
posed TO be fang proof. II was eX-
tremely hot. and Mr.. Mitchells cloth
ing was wet with p~erSpiration after IN
hours erowding through the tangle
of bushes and climbing over rocks.
When he came To a stony road lead
ing around the hill he found a spring
boiling from under a ledge of stone. Ii
was surrounded by a fringe of bushes,
through which there was an opening
just large enough for the admission OF
a man head. Mr.. Mitchell was SO
tired and heated that he had no
thought Of snakes, and he thrust his
head into the hole. When he had
cooled his face and quenched his
thirst at the spring he resumed his
walk with a sigh of satisfaction.
He had hardly turned the corner Of
q projecting bowlder as large as a
cabin when he heard a frightful
rea Going back, he saw a hor.
rible sight. A peddler had stopped
for a drink as had Mr.. Mitchell. When
his lips touched the water q great rat
tlesnake buried its fangs in the mans
neck. AS he jerked himself out OF the
reptiles lurking place he dragged the
snake with him. Ir an instant he re-
allied that he was doomed, as the poi
son was being carried through his
body more swiftly because the venom
had entered near tie jugular vein. As
Mr.. Mitchell came in sight the peddler
was shrieking ana praying. The snake
remained at the edge Of the spring, as
though determined TO fight against
further intrusion, and, catching sight
of IL, the peddler shouted:
Curse you'll I'll kill you before ]
die"
He grasped the snake as he spoke
and received a second bite on the
hand. la his frenzy he tore the snake
asunder, ground the head beneath his
heel, and fell TO the ground.
The scene described had not occu.
pied two minutes. Mr.. Mitchell was
at his side as quickly as possible, and
held a whiskey flask TO the mouth OF
the PROSTATE man, whose body was
already beginning TO swell. The
liquor did no good. In five minutes
the peddler was dead. so quickly had
the poison worked. There was moth;
ing on the peddler by which he could
be identified. In his pack was a let
ter signed Nellie, evidently having
been written by the daughter of the
dead man. The body was buried near
the place, which since then has been
known by Venango people as Dead
Mans Spring"
Mr.. Mitchell believes tuat had In
hair not been oiled with a preparation
Of petroleum lie would have been bit
ten instead of the peddle, as the
snake must have been in tho mating
OF bushes when he bathed his face.
His theory is that the reptile had a
dislike Of the oil, and refused to
strike, and he is convinced that petro-
leum saved his life, even if il failed TO
SUR his badness. New York Sur.