“Ah, you may say ugh, but it all depends; when a fellow’s hungry he’s got to eat something, and I don’t see why a snake shouldn’t be as good to eat as an eel.”
“But they’re poisonous,” cried Chris.
“Only in the head, and it’s easy to cut that off. Now, look yonder; there lie four fine fat rattlers, fast asleep on that patch of sand. We’re not exactly short of food, but a little extra would be very useful, and as rattlers are so plentiful it seems almost a pity that we can’t make them good to eat, and knock over all we come across.”
“How can you talk in that horrid way, Griggs!” cried Chris, with a shudder.
“I don’t see nothing horrid about it. Snake’s a nice clean enough sort of thing; and, as I say, it’s all a matter of habit. They tell me frogs are delicious, but I’d as soon eat snake.”
“Reptiles! Ugh!” cried Ned.
“So’s turtle reptile,” said Griggs. “Nasty-looking thing too. Might just as well eat alligator. I’ve a good mind to get down and cripple two or three of those rattlers, so as to try how they eat.”
“No, no, don’t!” cried the boys in a breath, and before the others grasped what he was about to do, Chris pulled up, slipped off his mustang, gathered up a handful of small stones, and sent a shower amongst the sleeping reptiles.
In an instant there was a scattering of sand and a rush for safety, the snakes taking refuge amongst the brush around, leaving not a sign of their presence.
“There goes dinner for six,” said Griggs dryly. “I say, there’s plenty of those creeping gentry about here.”