"Of you go ofer, you land dem snakes your head on," put in Hans.
The words had scarcely been uttered, when there came a wild shriek from Songbird. The poetic youth had lost his hold and slipped to the ground below. He came down directly on top of three of the snakes, and with an angry hissing they whipped around him.
"Songbird has fallen on the snakes!"
"Run for your life!" sang out Tom. "There goes Wags!"
And Songbird did run the moment he could regain his feet. One snake got tangled up in the boy's legs and was carried along, whipping one way and another. But it soon lost its hold and then wiggled through the grass to rejoin its fellows. In the meantime, the dog had disappeared.
"Are you safe?" called out those at the top of the cliff.
"I—I—guess so," came in a panting answer. "But two of them did—did their be-best to bite me!"
"Bring the horses around while you are about it," said Tom, and then the three on the cliff walked around to rejoin Songbird. When they reached him, they found the poetic youth trembling from head to foot.
"Never had such an experience in all my life," said he. "Why, I came down almost headfirst on those snakes! I never want such a thing to, happen again."
"I've got no use for snakes," said Tom. "I don't know what they are good for, excepting to scare folks."