Then it was the shrill scream from Huerta's copperbottom ahead. Crawford saw the huge rattler dropping off the animal's rump, and the copperbottom started to buck.
"There it is," screamed Huerta, "there it is!"
"Don't lose your head," shouted Crawford. "Get him to running again. He'll last through, Huerta, get him to running—"
Another rattler flashed from the thickets. The copperbottom reared up as the snake struck, pawing the air wildly. Crawford came up from behind at a dead run and Huerta's panicky reining brought the copperbottom down broadside to them. Crawford jerked his whole body to the left with the desperation of his attempt to rein the black around, but Africano smashed head-on into Huerta's animal.
Crawford had the sense of falling through a bedlam of Huerta's wild yells and Merida's voice calling something and the animal's frenzied, agonized screaming. Then he hit the ground with Merida coming down on top of him. It knocked the breath from him and he struggled to get from beneath her, making a horrible retching sound in his fight for breath. He got to his knees, surprised that he still clutched the Henry. The copperbottom was already crashing off through the brush, and Africano was just scrambling to his feet. Crawford lurched at the black horse, but Africano whirled and galloped at a ramadero of cejas, smashing through and disappearing. There was a whirring sound from behind and Merida's shriek. He whirled, snapping the lever on his Henry down at the same time, and fired from the hip at the serpent coiled just beyond her. She had been in the act of throwing herself away, and the slug driving into the snake aborted its strike. The head fell heavily to the ground with only half its length uncoiled. Crawford leaped to Merida, grabbing her roughly by the elbow and yanking her erect.
"Crawford, get me out, Crawford! Crawford!" It was Huerta, rising from the patch of switch mesquite where he had been thrown. There was a sallow, putty color to his face and that eye was twitching uncontrollably now. He staggered toward them, his blasé, jaded sophistication swept away before the terrible animal fear. A deadly rattle rose from behind him and he tried to run, and stumbled, falling against Crawford.
The woman's gasp made Crawford turn in the direction she was looking, and he brought up the Henry, kicking free of Huerta, firing at the snake which had writhed from the switch mesquite toward them, shouting at Huerta. "Get up, then. I'll get you out. Get up!"
Panting, sobbing hoarsely, Huerta pulled himself up, staring about him wildly, starting like a frightened deer at every new sound. Crawford put the woman directly before him and started moving forward. Huerta cringed at his side, clawing at him, and he had to keep shoving the man away.
"Hurry, Crawford, hurry, please, what are you doing this for? We'll never—"
"Let go," Crawford bawled at him. "It won't do to lose our heads and start running. How can I—"