Bobby Blake on a Plantation; Or, Lost in the Great Swamp
Page 27
CHAPTER XXVII
THE MOCCASIN SNAKE
The hearty breakfast and the bright sunshine, added to the consciousnessthat they had found a shelter to which they might retreat in case ofneed put new zest into the boys, and they felt much more hopeful andlighthearted than they had twenty-four hours earlier.
“Somehow I have a hunch that this is going to be a lucky day for us,”remarked Bobby, as he led the way.
“Here’s hoping that you’re right,” said Lee. “We’re certainly about duefor a change in fortune. Poor mother!” he added, anxiety coming into hiseyes, “she must be worried to death. It’s safe to say she hasn’t slept awink since we’ve been gone. I’ve no doubt she has searching parties outlooking for us, but in this swamp they might hunt for days withoutcoming across us.”
“We’ll trust in Bobby’s hunch,” Fred encouraged him. “They’ve often comeout all right. I think he’s got a rabbit’s foot hidden about himsomewhere.”
“If I had, we’d been out of this swamp long before this,” laughed Bobby.“Now,” he went on, “there’s one thing we’ve got to do, and it’s moreimportant than anything else. Wherever we go, we’ve got to know how tofind our way back to this cabin. In the first place, it’s the only safeplace to spend the night. Then the very fact it’s here shows thatparties come to it sometimes and we may have the luck of falling in withthem.”
“Yes,” said Fred, “that’s good advice. But how are we going to do it?”
“By using this,” replied Bobby, showing him a small hatchet that he hadfastened to his belt. “I found this in one corner of the cabin thismorning and I brought it along. We’ll chip off pieces of bark from thetrees as we go along and that will help us to find our way back.”
He illustrated this by slashing a bit of bark off a tree that theyhappened to be passing.
“That’s bully,” said Lee, greatly relieved. “I was just worrying aboutthe chance of not being able to find our way back again.”
They went on, looking carefully for some sign of a trail, by followingwhich they might again reach the plantation and friends.
Soon they found themselves on marshier ground than that near the cabin,and they turned in another direction to find better footing.
The ground was covered with rotting leaves and bits of broken branches.Fred was picking his way, and was just about to step on what seemed tobe an unusually thick stick, about three feet long, when there was awarning shout from Lee who was several feet in the rear.
“Look out, Fred!” he yelled. “It’s a snake, a moccasin!”
The warning came too late. Fred’s foot had already touched one end ofthe seeming stick. Like lightning, an ugly head upreared at the otherend and struck savagely at the intruder.
“Run!” shouted Lee. “Run for your life!”
Fred obeyed and ran as fast as the marshy nature of the groundpermitted. The snake pursued him gliding through the tussocks, hisbaleful eyes like two flaming points.
Bobby had turned at Lee’s cry, and in a moment had grasped thesituation. He had the hatchet in his hand and threw it with all hismight at the snake, that was now close on Fred’s heels. He had no timeto take careful aim, but by great good fortune the sharp blade struckthe reptile a little behind the neck. It stopped instantly and writhedabout, beating the ground and hissing horribly.
Lee in the meantime had picked up a club, and with a few blows from thisput an end to the snake. Then he and Bobby hurried to their comrade, whohad seated himself on the trunk of a fallen tree, pale and panting.
“Did he bite you, Fred?” cried Bobby, his heart convulsed with fear forhis chum.
“I’m afraid he did,” replied Fred, in a tone that he tried to keep firm.“He gave an awful dig at my foot.”
In a moment Bobby was on his knees and was taking off Fred’s shoe. Therewere tiny holes in it where the snake’s fangs had penetrated. Thestocking too was torn, and Bobby’s heart sank as he stripped it off.
But a great wave of thankfulness swept over him when he saw that theskin was not broken. He looked it over most carefully, but there was noteven a scratch. By the narrowest of chances, Fred had escaped. His stoutshoe had saved him.
“You’re all right, old boy,” said Bobby, though his voice trembled.“That snake came mighty near doing for you but didn’t quite make it.”
Fred almost collapsed as he realized that he was safe, for he had fearedthe worst.
“If he had struck above the shoe top it would have been good-night,”said Lee, who shared to the full the joy and relief of his friends.“Those moccasins are the deadliest snakes of the South. People are moreafraid of them than of rattlesnakes. A rattlesnake will give warning,but a moccasin never does. Then too a rattlesnake is only too glad toget away from you if you will let him, but the moccasin will chase you,just as this one did. My, but you had a narrow escape. The snake wasgaining on you and would have wound himself around your leg in anotherminute and then it would have been all over with you.”
Bobby brought a little water from a pool near by and carefully washedthe stocking, scrubbing the shoe also, to remove any trace of the poisonthat there might be on them. Then after they had partially dried, Fredput them on and they all went over to look at the hideous reptile. Itlay perfectly still and there was no doubt that it was dead, but to makeassurance doubly sure, Bobby recovered his hatchet that lay a few feetaway and with one stroke struck off the moccasin’s head.
“Gee, he’s an ugly looking sinner,” murmured Fred.
“Sure is,” agreed his chums in unison.