None of them were sorry to leave the neighborhood of the dead cat, which Bumpus had hung up in the tree, possibly in the hope of sometime claiming its well-riddled pelt.
An hour later they were making their way through a particularly bad stretch of woodland, where the brush was dense in places, and many trees, fallen years upon years ago, forced the scouts to either clamber over, or go around.
Step Hen was just in the act of jumping over the half-rotten trunk of one of these fallen forest monarchs, when the rest heard him give utterance to a loud whoop, immediately followed by words that struck a chill to their very hearts:
“Thad! Allan! come here, quick! I’m snake bit, and I reckon it was a big rattler that grabbed me by the leg!”
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SNAKE BITE.
“What can we do, Thad?” exclaimed Giraffe, as with the others he hurried over in the direction of Step Hen’s voice.
Step Hen had not kept exactly with his mates; had he done so the trouble that was now upon him might not have happened. Encouraged by his success of the preceding day, when he had secured a fine deer just because he hung upon the flank of the advancing party, Step Hen had wandered far afield again, though careful, after a fashion, never to lose sight of the rest.
It was easy to understand, under the circumstances, how the ambitious Nimrod kept his eyes about him, looking for a possible deer to jump up and bound away. He had not been thinking of snakes at all, when so recklessly jumping over the dead tree; and this is always a more or less dangerous thing to do in a country where poisonous snakes may be found.
They came upon the frightened Step Hen. He was down on one knee, and with hands that trembled so he could hardly work, was trying to roll up one of his trousers’ legs, after having kicked off his canvas legging.
Thad was instantly at his side.