They stood there patiently listening to the movements below, the lashing about gradually ceasing, to give place to a gliding, rustling sound as if the injured creature was travelling rapidly about endeavouring to escape. The dust began to settle as the smoke floated away, but twice over arose again as after a spell of silence there was the sound of a fall.
“He was trying to get up in the corner yonder,” said Griggs.
“How horrible if it comes up one of these angles,” said Ned, drawing his breath sharply.
“No fear,” cried Griggs. “Snakes can only raise themselves up for a certain distance, and then they fall over. I’ve watched them often.”
“I say, he’s getting quieter now,” said Chris.
This was plain to all, for the rustling died out, began again more faintly, died out again, there was the sound of a pat or two as if given spasmodically by the reptile’s tail, and then all was quite still, while the dust had cleared away so that the watchers could see by the lanthorn’s light the inert body of a very large rattlesnake.
“Why, it’s not half so big as I expected,” cried Chris.
“The biggest I ever saw,” said Griggs quietly.
“But it made such a tremendous noise,” cried Chris. “I expected to see one double that size. I say, hadn’t Ned better give him another charge?”
“No; one of you go up to the top and drop a good-sized stone down upon him. We shall see whether there’s life enough in him to be dangerous.”