The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1896-11-05
THE BEST SNAKE STORY.

The beauty of the best snake story IN
the world is that there was really no
make in it, which is more than can be
said even of the Garden of Eden.
It had been very hot that summer on
the ranch. Men work in the fields of
California with the thermometer at 10
degrees, while they fall down of heat
apoplexy in the streets Of New York
and Chicago at 80 degrees. That is the
maxim they preach to the stranger in
the west, and it has truth in it; but it is
a mistake to suppose that even in Cali
fornia men work in the fields in COM
fort in such a temperature and that
summer the thermometer had gone
very near lis degrees. So we were
grateful enough to get away into the
hills for q spell, with a wagon and
tent and the usual outfit of pots and
pans, three of US, white men, with
Louie, the Mexican (whom we called in
the vernacular the Greaser), to mind
/ the horses and make himself generally
useful. Our programme was to fish the
rivers, shoot deer, and possibly griz-
ely bear, discover a gold mine and go
back to the ranch with prospective
fortune.
We had just pitched our tent. Down
ON the plain for weeks before we had
been sleeping out on our veranda, but
the air of the hills had a nip in it by con-
trast. It was late in the afternoon, but
there'was still plenty of sunshine. fol-
lowed Louie round shoulder of the
hill, going to fetch water at a little
stream tumbling from somewhere
among the snowy peaks that capped the
zone of frs on the great mountains
above US. These mountains had, at
some time or other, sent down little
avalanche of small rocks, that lay
heaped on our left as we walked. The
scene was the most peaceful imagin-
able.
In an instant succession of small
incidents sent the peace to limbo.
Louie dropped his pannilzin with tink-
ling chatter, crying: ''Sancta Maria!"
in voice of terror. At the same mo-
ment I heard the dread rattle of u
snake, and saw its length CLEAN under
Louie's feet and vanish among the
rocks.
"Sancta Martial" he tottered back
into nv arms, his dark face livid with
fear.
"What is it, Louie? Did the snake
strike your
"In the foot" he said; ''yes.''
LET us get back to camp. Quick,
lean on me-"
whats the good, boss?" he asked.
I'm dead man." Nevertheless he
came with me, leaning on my shoulder,
and making lame walk of it,
Down in the plain we had no rattle
snakes. For miles about the ranch there
were no rocks for them, and though
there were plenty of ground-squirrel
holes we never saw snakes about them
The thought Of such things did not
enter our heads, and Louie, weary of his
boots, had kicked them off, with the
long spurs, and come with me in his
stocking feet on his quest for water.
A word explained to the boys what
had happened.
( "Strychnine's the BEST" said Jock
Peters. who was our authority on the
4uCSC1Oh VI SudhC O1lCS, WHICH ne ndu
studied in Australia; "but we haven't
got it; so we must do what we can with
this. But it's a poor chance" he added
in a whisper, as, to save time, he
knocked the neck off bottle of brandy.
Drink it, Louie" he said; never mind
cutting your lip; get it down-that's
the chief thing"
II The Mexican's teeth chartered as we
forced the neck of the bottle, but he
drank great gulp without winking.
The liquor, or pickle, either, to scorch
the throat of Mexican has yet to be
found.
Jim Kelly, the Irishman, was sad
ding the freshest of our horses, to ride
at best speed into Lindsay, II miles
away in the haze of the plains, for the
doctor. In minute he was pounding
away along the hills. elk up a light
as high as you can put it if it's dark be-
fore we get back" he shouted as he
went.
ss3s We pulled the sock OF the Mexican's
.llnd1 III GlEelI in0 fast.