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.
g. It had been very hot that summer on
the ranch. Men work in the fields OF
California with the thermometer at Ito
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
mistake to suppose that even in Cali
Z fornia men work in the fields in COM
fort in such a temperature; and that
summer the thermometer had gone
very near 115 degrees. So we were
grateful enough to get away into the
hills for a 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 general
4 useful. Our program was to fish the
rivers, shoot deer, and possibly griz-
ely bear, discover gold mine and go
3 back to the ranch with a prospective
fortune.
We had just pitched our tent. Down
ON the plain for weeks before we had
y been sleeping out on our veranda, but
the air of the hills had nip in it by con-
trast. It was late in the afternoon, but
there'was still plenty of sunshine. I fol-
lowed Louie round shoulder of the
hill, going to fetch water at little
4 stream tumbling from somewhere
among the snowy peaks that capped the
zone of frs on the great mountains
Z 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 a succession of small
incidents sent the peace to limbo.
Louie dropped his pannikin with tink-
ling CHATTER, crying: ''Sancta Maria!"
in q voice of terror. At the same mo-
ment heard the dread rattle of u
snake, and saw it's length CLEAN under
Louie's feet and vanish among the
rocks.
"Sancta Maria!" he tottered back
fear.
!. "What is it, Louie? Did the snake
strike you?"
/. I'm the FOOT he said; Eyes"
. LET us get back to camp. Quick,
dean on me-"
whats the good, boss?' he asked.
I'm a 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 groundsquirrel
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 A word explained to the boys what
! had happened.
/ "Strychnine's the BEST" said Jock
Peters, who was our authority on the
! question of snake bites, which he had
studied in Australia; "but we haven't
9 got it; SO we must do what we can with
this. But it's poor chance" he added
! In a whisper, as, to save time, he
4 knocked the neck off a bottle of brandy
3 Drink it, Louie" he said; never mind
:: cutting your lip; get it down-that's
the chief thing"
The Mexican's teeth chartered as we
I forced the neck of the bottle, but he
drank a 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 a minute he was pounding
away along the hills. elk up light
ms high as you can put it if it's dark be-
fore we get back" he shouted as he
4 went. !, ~
sssas We pulled the sock Oh the Mexican's