Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1893-09-12
SAVED BY A SNAKE.

Game there was none. We could not
break camp now with our weak men upon
our hands, and II only remained for some
one to attempt thed. sperate journey across
the San Juan range by way Of the DEVILS
pass to Animas, and return with food or
rescuing party. Failing in that, spring
time would ind our cabin Inhabited by
corpses.
We drew lots among ourselves, therefore.
we well men, TO decide who should under
take this perilous trip, and the risk fell
upon me. It was best perhaps that It
should have been 80. for Of all the party
best knew the trail. Without waste OF
words or tins l prepared myself for the
Journey, and thoroughly armed early one
morning before the pale moon had fallen
behind the western mountains i bade good
by to my comrades and started.
Turning my back upon the camp, / set
tied my course by q star and at brisk
pace steereG~ southwark. All day l con-
tinued on the trail, ever with watchful
eye for Indian signs-for believed our old
enemies still In the vicinity-but all day
unmolested, and at last, weary and worn,
as the chill shadows began TO creep across
the great white plain behind me, l saw
looming up In front the San Juan range,
gashed with a narrow gorge-the DEVILS
pass. Once through that horrible grave
for 1t was little else-and the road to Ami
mas wound be comparatively easy. My
spirits rose hopefully.
As darkness came fairly down l found
myself just at the mouth Of the canyon
which led up to the pass, and deeming 1t
most sheltered place for a camping spot j
soon gathered heap of dead limbs beneath
an overhanging rock where the snow had
not yet come, built a roaring fire. which
warmed and cheered me. and prepared for
the night. felt little fear, for the narrow,
frowning canyon walls would hide the light
Of my fire from all the plain country. The
only disturbance which l might look for
would be the bowling CT the wolves, who
might threaten, but would not dare attack
me, and cared not for them.
With these comforting reflections, there
fore, ate a hearty supper, drank little
melted snow water, Lit my pipe, and rolling
myself In my blanket crowded close to the
rock wall behind me, now well warmed by
my fire. And so In the Pickering light, pro-
tectsd upon all sides, gave myself unhesi
tatingly up to slumber.
How long l slept I cannot say. 1t was
deep In the night when woke with sud
den chill. 1t was as II come one had touched
mewith cold aud clammy hand. but even
before was well awake my frontiersman's
caution returned, and / opened my eyes
slowly and didn't move.
The fire was all but out, and the ghostly
light from its dying embers touched the
snow and rocks and trees about with
strange color like thick blood. The air
was growing chill and still, too, except for
the cry Of a coyote far up the canyon wall
opposite, who whined and barked inces
sanity.
There was something almost oppressive
about the silence to me, when suddenly
from just beyond my smoldering fire the
sound of a step startled me, and before
had time even to move there was bending
over me q hideous. painful face-the face of
q savage. And in his hand, already creep
ing toward my heart. was his heavy scalp
ing knifel
To describe my sensations is impossible
Some terrible spell seemed to bind me-
Not only was l facing a danger which
meant instant death. but was unable to
move, even in the attempt to save myself
1t was as II ] were fascinated.
tried to reason with myself. This was
but a single enemy. II ! should spring
upon him, might kill him and so be free
but, although the reasoning was all right,
the action l was unable to bring about,
and all the time the terrible knife drew
nearer. The redskin knew that l was
awake and that | saw him, but he gloated
over my helplessness and delayed his fatal
blow.
At last, however, ! saw the CLEAN of his
eye, the Tightening of his muscles, and
knew that In an instant more all would be
over, when sudden harsh, metallic rattle
sounded as II 1t were in my very bosom.
felt something glide from my side-a long,
scaly, snaky body shot out to meet the
dusky oncominR arm. There was blow,
then cry of horror, and as the knife fell
ringing to the earth q rattlesnake crawled
slowly away, and the Uncompahgre, with
his now nerveess hand outstretched and
the blood dripping from his parted fingers,
with a long, wild death shrek, turned and
disappeared in the darkness. The rattler,
which my fire had drawn from his winter
quarters, had saved my life and the lives Of
my compali ms.
A week later, with party Of 80 good fell
lows, l recrossed the San Juan range and
rescued my party from starvation and the
Indians, and 1t Is because of what that
snake did for me In DEVILS pass nigh ON 20
years ago that I let the critters live today
Romance.