though he
might 'a' got a stick in the timber by walkin' a few rods. He couldn't
'a' been so bad off as one o' you surveyor chaps was when the gov'ment
survey went through. He was off on the Big Perairie, footin' it to his
camp, when he comes to a rattler curled up in the grass, and shakin' his
tarnal buzz-tail at him. He steps back, and casts about him for some
sort of we'pon; he hadn't a thing in his fist but a roll of paper, and
if ever a chap hankered arter a stick or a stun, they say he did. But it
was all jest perairie grass; nary rock nor a piece of timber within
three mile. Snake seemed to 'preciate his advantage, and flattened his
head and whirred his rattle sassier 'n ever. Surveyor chap couldn't
stan' that. So what does he dew, like a blamed fool, but jest off with
his boot and hurl it, 'lowin' he could kill a rattler that way? He
missed shot. Then, to git his boot, he had to pull off t' other, and
tackle the snake with that. Lost that tew. Then he was in a
perdickerment; snake got both boots; curled up on tew 'em, ready to
strike, and seemin' to say, 'If you've any more boots to spar', bring
'em on.' Surveyor chap hadn't no more boots, to his sorrow; and, arter
layin' siege to the critter till sundown, hopin' he'd depart in peace
and leave him his property, he guv it up as a bad job, and footed it to
the camp in his stockin's, fancyin' he was treadin' among rattlers all
the way."

The story was finished by the time the axe was brought; the old man
picked up a rusty shovel lying by the house, and, getting into the buggy
with his tools, he pointed out to his young companion a rough road
leading through the timber.

This was a broad belt of woodland, skirting the eastern side of a wide,
fertile river-bottom, and giving to the settlement the popular name of
"Long Woods."

On the other side of the timber lay the high prairie region, covered
with coarse wild grass, and spotted with flowers, without tree or shrub
visible until another line of timber, miles away, marked the vicinity of
another stream.

The young surveyor and the old man, in the jolting buggy, followed by
the dog, left the log-house and the valley behind them; traversed the
woods, through flickering sun and shade; and drove southward along the
edge of the rolling prairie, until the old man said they had better stop
and hitch.

"I don't hitch my horse," said the young surveyor. "The dog looks out
for him. Here, old fellow, watch!"

"The secti