ich succeeded have been caused by
waterfowl. But all idea of bathing was dismissed.

At last, after a long hot lapse of time, during which he had given many
a vicious rub to the unclothed parts of his body, and turned again,
feeling as if there were far too many buttons on his clothes, which
instead of confining themselves to their proper duty of holding the said
garments in their places, felt as if they had become animate and were
engaged in treating his flesh as if it was wax and they were seals.

"Hah!" he sighed, at last, as the sounds grew apparently more dull and
distant, Chris's breathing heavy and regular, and a feeling of restful
ease began to pervade his being.

"Old Chris is fast asleep, and I'm going off at last. Oh, how tired,
how sleepy I do--Ugh!"

He did not rub now, he dared not, and that ejaculation was like a husky
sigh--very low; but it was loud enough to rouse Chris into wakefulness.

"What's the matter?" he whispered.

There was no reply for a few moments, and Chris repeated the question,
adding, "Did you speak?"

"I must have been dropping off and dreamed it," thought Chris, but the
next moment his name was uttered in a strange whisper.

"Yes? All right! What is it?"

"There's something on me," came back faintly.

"Well, knock it off."

"I daren't. I can't move."

"What, is it so heavy?" said Chris mockingly.

"N-no. I'm afraid it'll bite."

"A skeeter?"

"No," said Ned, more faintly. "Call to your father for help."

"What for? Here, shall I strike a light?"

"N-no. It might make it angry."

"It? It?" said Chris, with all the petulance of one who had been
previously disturbed by his bed-fellow's alarms. "What is _it_?"

"Down by the pool--the hot sand--you know--amongst the stones."

"What! A snake?" whispered Chris, alarmed in turn now, and feeling the
cold perspiration breaking out on his temples.

"Yes--a rattler."

"Look here, you boys," said a stern voice, in a whisper from close at
hand, "I begged you to--"

"A light, father! Be careful!" gasped Chris, and the next moment there
was a sharp scratching sound, a flash, and a pale light played over the
recumbent figures.

"Now then, what is it?"

"Oh, it's gone now," groaned Ned. "I felt it glide off when you struck
the match, sir."

"Leap off, you mean," said the doctor. "Rats don't glide."

"Oh, it wasn't a rat, sir," said the boy faintly. "It was a rattler."

"Nonsense! Not here."

"Yes,