"For the sake of mercy do not leave me alone."
"These," pointing to the savage animals, "will keep you company. But you shall be doubly guarded."
He disappeared for a few moments. Then returned with a handful of brush with the green leaves still clinging to them. These he spread across the cavern, then tore away a stone, and instantly a dozen great, hideous, crawling, hissing rattlesnakes wriggled forth.
"Oh, God!" burst in accents of agony from the lips of the tortured prisoner, as he sunk back to the uttermost limit that was possible.
"These will keep guard over you—see that no one enters and that you do not go out," replied the Medicine, with a devilish grin.
The serpents coiled, twined, twisted, reared their heads, clashed their scales, shook their rattles, darted out their forked tongues and flashed their eyes, that looked like great balls of fire. And momentarily he expected them to creep toward, to coil around, to sting him to death!
"These," repeated the Medicine, "will be your guard."
"And when, in the name of heaven, will you come back?"
"Perhaps to-night—perhaps to-morrow. But, fear not, for you will be safe as long as you remain quiet. If you attempt to escape, a dreadful death will follow."
From the moment the reptiles had been set free, the Medicine had stood at the door of the cavern, through which a little light came in. Now he quickly retreated, shutting the entrance after him, and, more dead than alive, George Parsons was left to the most horrid companionship that the mind can think of. Every moment he expected would be his last, and hours passed of sufficient misery to have driven him stark mad.