ene we had just witnessed impressed upon us
more strongly than words could have done, the responsibility as well as
constant watchfulness and care necessary in travelling through a country
so full of peril.

The miserable fate of poor Gonzales seemed to throw a gloom over the
entire camp; for it forced all to realize how beset with danger was every
step we took, and how easily it might have been one of us, lying cold in
death, instead of the poor Mexican.

We retired early, after taking every precaution possible to guard against
surprise, and I soon fell asleep, but was aroused a few hours later, by
terrific screams and howls from Patsey, who was capering around the camp
in the most ridiculous manner, executing as many singular and grotesque
gyrations as an Apache in celebrating the scalp-dance. The entire camp
was roused: even the guards rushed in from their posts to ascertain the
cause of the disturbance.

[Illustration: Patsey and the Snake.]

Neither Jerry, Hal, nor Ned could discover the cause of Patsey's terror;
for, in response to our many inquiries, he would only scratch his leg
through the rent in his trousers, and constantly jump up and down, as
though standing upon a hot griddle, all the while howling at the top of
his lungs.

Becoming, at last, thoroughly angry, I seized the boy by the collar, and
gave him such a shaking that I finally succeeded in getting an answer to
the question, as to what was the matter.

"Mather!" roared Patsey. "Mather enuff, God knows! Shnakes is the
mather!" making a desperate dive down into the leg of his pants. "I'm
bited to death wid a shnake, so I am. Can't yez all sae I'm a did mon?"

Now, as far as appearances went, Patsey was a long way from being a dead
man, for he still indulged in more lively contortions than a corpse was
ever known to execute; each movement accompanied by a yell almost loud
enough to wake the dead.

An examination revealed the fact, that the boy had heedlessly spread his
blanket over the entrance to the home of a colony of large black ants,
and the little fellows, angry at his presumption, had attacked him, in
the most spiteful manner, through the rents in his trousers. Patsey,
awakened out of a sound sleep by their stings, and remembering Ned's
adventure in the Organos mountains, had fancied himself the unfortunate
victim of a like attack. We finally succeeded in convincing him that he
was not dead, nor likely to die; and then, the camp resumed