And joining hands, the two danced with delight. Many in the situation of Fred Greenwood would have laughed at Jack and "guyed" him over his blunder, but the incident was too dreadful and the terror of his friend too intense for Fred to wish to amuse himself at his expense. However, he could not help indulging just a trifle. Suddenly pausing in his antics he looked down at the feet of Jack.
"I suppose in a few minutes your ankle will be so swelled that the buckles will fly off the legging. By this time, too, you must feel the poison in your head."
By way of answer, Jack, who, like Fred, had laid aside his Winchester and venison, seized his friend and tried to lay him on his back. They had had many a wrestling bout at home and there was little difference in their skill. Fred was always ready for a test, and he responded with such vigor that before Jack suspected he received an unquestioned fall, since both shoulders and hips were on the ground at the same time, with his conqueror holding him motionless.
"It was hardly fair," remarked Fred, allowing him to rise to his feet.
"Why not?" asked Jack, also coming up.
"The venom of the rattlesnake so weakened you that you are not yourself."
"I'll show you whether I am or not!"
At it they went again, and this time Jack was the victor, after which they brushed off their clothing and agreed to leave the deciding bout for a more convenient season. Night was rapidly closing in.
"That exercise has added to my appetite," remarked Jack, as they gathered up their belongings and moved off.
"It would have done the same for me, if the thing were possible."