For about a hundred yards from them, half-hidden among the stones, was something which pretty well warranted Ned’s comparison to a tree turned wrong way up, so that only its roots were visible above the ground, the object being, in fact, a monstrous knot of hundreds of snakes twined together as if they were all engaged in the attempt to get their heads into the centre of the tangled mass which, all in motion, heaved and sank and rolled from side to side, the lower portions of the serpents’ bodies and their tails being free to lash and writhe about in the air, while at a second glance the spectators began to realise the fact that all around, gliding in and out amongst the stones, were hundreds upon hundreds more of the reptiles, apparently urged on by some savage instinct to form other knots, till the whole of the hollow in front seemed to be alive with the loathsome creatures.
“Did you ever see anything like this before, Griggs?” said the doctor, who was the first to speak.
“Never, sir; but an old gold prospector once told me that he had seen just such a sight, only I put it down to being a yarn told to cram me.”
“But they’re not poisonous—not rattlesnakes, surely?” said Bourne.
“They surely are,” cried Wilton. “Hark! Can’t you hear? It’s like a dull thrilling sound. Here, I don’t want to be the first to run, but I can’t stand this; I’m off.”
“We’d better all be off,” cried the doctor. “Here, Griggs, head round your bell-mule and let’s get away. You seem to have led us right into the empire of snakes. Quick, look alive, or the poor brutes will be right amongst the reptiles.”
“Not they, sir; they smell ’em now. Come and help, or we shall have a stampede.”