“Oh, Dave, is he—is he dead?” panted Roger. His face had gone white, and his whole attitude showed how unstrung he was.
“He’s as dead as a door-nail, Roger,” was the answer, after Dave had made a brief inspection of the remains. “He’ll never bother you or anybody else again.”
“I felt sure he was going to bite me!” went on the senator’s son with a shudder.
“You certainly had a close shave, and I don’t wonder that it scared you, Roger. Think of facing a snake like that and not being able to run away!”
“He was down in this very hollow where my leg is first. Then he glided over to the other hollow and began to rattle and coil up to strike. If you hadn’t come down as you did, he would have struck me sure;” and the senator’s son shivered again.
“I think we had better wipe off that axe-handle, and the blade, too,” remarked Dave. “He may have gotten some of his poison on it.”
“Yes, wipe it off very carefully,” answered Roger. “But first of all I’ve got to get my foot loose. It does beat all how I got stuck.”
“You didn’t hurt your leg or your foot, did you?”
“I scraped my shin a little, but that doesn’t count.”
An inspection was made, and finally Dave had to bend down and unlace Roger’s shoe before the limb could be gotten out of the space between the two rocks. Then the footwear was recovered, and the senator’s son put it on once more. In the meanwhile, Dave took up the axe rather gingerly and also tied a bit of string to the tail of the lifeless rattlesnake.