Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1906-08-10
R,,t when he saw the start end

But when he saw the start and
shudder with which the creature woke,
the anguish of returning consciousness,
suddenly he was sorry for his act.
When the snake, writing round,
struck at it's cord quiyering from head
to tail, he would have given an hour
of his own rest to have restored the
sleep which he had broken.
The sun rose presently. Again the
weary panorama Of the day unrolled
before the eyes of the two 4ictims.
The snake was quiet, weakened by his
long struggle. The man, strengthened
by sleep, restored by the nights cold,
held himself strongly in hand.
Sometimes, indeed, the growing heat
drew from his lips a broken sigh.
Sometimes birds, many now, swooped
low around him with hoarse cries and
Tapping of heavy wings: at such times
his whole body grew tense beneath
the stress of almost uncomfortable
disgust and terror. But he lay still.
Not for his reasons sake dared he
again give way to the expression of
fear. 1t was comfort to him in
these moments that the snake showed
no apprehension of their gruesome
neighbors or eyed them only with the
avid eyes of hunger. Watching the
indifference of the reptile, the man
feared less. Fixing his eyes upon it,
he could hold hard to sanity and to
endurance, though around him perched
and lowered the vulture ministers of
death.
But as the morning passed new
anxiety should die first? 1t seemed to
weaken with every hour and the man
trembled. He spoke to it soothingly
at times and had, or believed he had,
the power of quieting its paroxyms.
In his fevered mind he searched halt
ingly for some knowledge of its needs.
Would it live longer for the taking of
life? And if by stretching out his
hand he could delay it's end, what then
of the lengthening of its pain? Before
his dimming eyes, the snake loomed,
now refuge, now a menace. A dozen
times, he half relaxed his hand only
to draw it quickly close again. Once
when the snake fell in its spring, seem
ingly dead, he thrust the fingers wide
with a cry of utter deprivation. When
it moved again he drew them in, the
instructive love of life still strong
upon him.
A buzzard had risen at his cry and
perched on the sage-brush at his head.
He studied it quietly for a while, its
coarse, dragged feathers, its filmed,
eyes and cruel beak. When the scrutiny
had grown intolerable, he strove to
shout to scare it from its place. His
voice came dry and breathless,
scarcely a whisper, and the bird
swayed back and fortl unmoved.s
He closed his eyes after this and
for long time lay still, only rolling
his head from side to side that the
vultures might not light upon his
body.
At last, when the sun lay low on
the horizon, he ceased the movement
and again looked about him. Overhead
a cloud of birds, scared by the sudden
quiet, hung high in air; swarms of
ants and lesser insects crawled and fed
upon his arms and body I; the sage
brush all around rustled with pungent
dryness and to the west the sky burn
dryness and to the west the sky burned
hard and bright as FURNISHED copper.
For a long time he waited. Then,
with a sobbing breath, be flung round,
straining his body. against the cords
which held him. mas
The snake too had moved. The
throng that bound it was. drawn taut
and painfully it had thrust its swollen
head across its fingers. 1t lay thus,
outstretched, not striking, its glazing
eyes on the mans face.
And while they lay so suddenly
there came to pass the impossible, the
one uncounted chance. From far
across the desolate sage-brush desert
sounded to them the barking of a
dog.
1t came nearer and with 1t the
creak and grinding Of heavy wheels.
The man stroye to cry out and, fall
ing, gnawed desperately at his baked
lips and tongue. When the feeble
trickIe OF blood which paid his eff
forts had inoistened his dry throat,
he raised his voice In shrill and ter