laughing.

"Oh, you might as well know. There are plenty of wiseacres who'll tell
you that nobody's in danger at these East Coast resorts, and the hotel
people will swear solemnly there isn't a serpent in the State; but there
are, Hamil, and plenty of them. I've seen rattlers strike without
rattling; and moccasins are ugly brutes that won't get out of the way
for you and that give no warning when they strike; and all quail hunters
in the flat-woods know how their pointers and setters are killed, and
every farmer knows that the best watchmen he can have is a flock of
guinea-fowl or turkeys or a few hogs loose. The _fact_ is that deadly
snakes are not rare in many localities; the _wonder_ is that scarcely a
death is reported in a year. How many niggers die, I don't know; but I
know enough, when I'm in the woods or fields, to look every time before
I put my foot upon the ground."

"How can you see in the jungle?"

"You've _got_ to see. Besides, rattlers are on the edge of thickets, not
inside. They've got to have an open space to strike the small furry
creatures which they live on. Moccasins affect mud--_look_ there!"

Both horses shyed; in front Shiela's mount was behaving badly, but even
while she was mastering him she tried at the same time to extract her
shotgun from the leather boot. Stent rode up and drew it out for her;
Hamil saw her break and load, swing in the saddle, and gaze straight
into an evil-looking bog all set with ancient cypress knees and the
undulating snaky roots of palmettos.

"A perfectly enormous one, dad!" she called back.

"Wait!" said Cardross; "I want Hamil to see." And to Hamil: "Ride
forward; you ought to know what the ugly brutes look like!"

As he drew bridle at Shiela's left the girl, still intent, pointed in
silence; but he looked in vain for the snake, mistaking every palmetto
root for a serpent, until she leaned forward and told him to sight along
her extended arm. Then he saw a dull gray fold without any glitter to
it, draped motionless over a palmetto root, and so like the root that he
could scarcely believe it anything else.

"That?"

"Yes. It's as thick as a man's arm."

"Is it a moccasin?"

"It is; a cotton-mouth."

The guide drawled: "Ah reckon he's asleep, Miss Cahdhoss. Ah'll make him
rare up 'f yew say so."

"Make him rear up," suggested Gray. "And stand clear, Hamil, because
Shiela must shoot quick if he slides for the water."

The men backed their nervously