“Let me do that for you, Step Hen,” he exclaimed, as he dropped his gun, and applied himself to the task, to cry out a few seconds later, “I don’t see any marks where his fangs went in. Where was it he struck you? Oh! that red spot? Wait a minute.”
Thad, to the astonishment of the injured lad, whipped out a small magnifying glass, with which he was in the habit of examining beetles, and all sorts of things of a like nature, in whose habits he, as an amateur naturalist, chanced to be interested.
This he applied to the red mark, examining the same closely.
“I can see two sets of little punctures, one above and one below,” he announced presently.
“That’s them!” exclaimed Step Hen. “Oh! he jumped right at me, and bit me, all right! I was that scared I could hardly move. I hate snakes, you know, the worst kind. Thad, tell me, did anybody ever get bit by a rattler, and live? My goodness! will you have to cut my leg off, to save me? Oh! I think I’d rather die right now, than have to hop around on one leg all my life. Do something for me, Thad; what are you grinning at, Giraffe? This is a mighty serious matter, I tell you.”
“Keep still!” said Thad, sternly.
Then he got down, and sucked at the tiny wounds with all his might, having first made sure that he had no cut, or abrasion of the skin about his lips, or the interior of his mouth. Having expectorated freely Thad got up again. Step Hen followed his every movement with a troubled look on his face.
“Think you got all the old poison out, Thad? Oh! let somebody else have a try, won’t you? Can’t afford to take any chances about this. Think what an awful blow it’d be to my folks if I skipped off right here and now. Ketch me a jumpin’ over a log again without first lookin’. Where’s my gun? Did anybody see my gun? Goodness knows where it went. I bet that snake went and carried—oh! thank you, Allan, there’s the little dandy, all right. But Thad, don’t it look like my leg’s beginning to swell? I just seem to feel it twitching all the time. Is that the poison going through my system? Oh! I just knew some day a measly old snake’d get me. How I hate ’em.”
“Keep still!” commanded the scoutmaster, sternly.
“Oh! all right, Thad. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing by me; but it’s just awful to know you’ve been bitten by a rattlesnake.”