Now, if there was anything in the wide world that could give the fat scout a real hard scare, it had to do with snakes. Had he been told that there was a yellow-eyed wildcat crouching on a limb, and evidently planning to spring straight at him, Bumpus might have exhibited a certain degree of courage, and at least have tried to reach around in search of his gun; but a hideous, squirming snake was quite a different proposition.
And only that morning he had heard Thad tell about how venomous these numerous water moccasins were; how indeed, in some places, their bite is feared only second to that of a rattler; for while immediate death does not as a rule take place, often the wound will turn into an open running sore, and create no end of bother.
And so doubtless that brain of Bumpus’ instantly sent a “wireless” to other parts of his body, giving the alarm. Certain it is that at the very same instant the squirming object flashed before his eyes, falling in the boat directly ahead of Bumpus, who was in the bow, he made one magnificent backward splurge, his feet kicking violently every-which way, as in imagination he felt the fangs of the intruder fastened in his leg.
It was a sight never to be forgotten by those other scouts; though had not the canoe been very staunch the chances were that Bumpus in his frantic zeal to part company with the moccasin must have tipped the craft over, and deposited himself as well as his three companions in the water.
Even as he kept both legs working like the piston rods of an engine Bumpus was letting out roars that would have done credit to an angry bull. He afterwards confessed that it seems to be the one prominent feature in his mind that Thad had told them to make all the splash and noise they could if ever they were threatened by these contemptible water moccasins, as that would frighten them away. And as Giraffe afterwards avowed, the noise that Bumpus created would have given his comrades the one grand scare of their lives, had they not known the origin of it all. Bumpus actually took that as a compliment, too, mind you.
“Keep still, Bumpus, or you’ll upset the boat!” shouted Thad, sternly; and he had to exert himself to be heard above all the row.
“You’re safe enough, silly; he won’t jump at you!” cried Davy Jones, who had all he could manage with the head of the fat scout in his lap, and those legs going like the arms of a windmill in a stiff gale.
“Gimme just one chance to whack the beggar!” demanded Step Hen, who had managed to pick up the push pole, which was carried in case they became fast in the mud at any time, and must depend on brawn and muscle to get clear.
As the result of all these objurgations Bumpus recovered enough sense to slightly raise his head, so that he could take a peep. He discovered that the moccasin had coiled in the very bow, and was acting as though intending to retain possession of the canoe; for it kept thrusting venomously with its head, and showed a nasty disposition in the way it opened its mouth.
But Step Hen poised the push pole as though he meant business.