Chicken Little stood looking at it in dazed surprise for several seconds. She was white and trembling with excitement. Seeing that it did not move, Katy and Gertie crept a little closer. No one said a word for a full minute, then Chicken Little came to life, her face convulsed with loathing.
“Ugh, the nasty thing–I hate them. I don’t see what God wanted to make such horrid, wicked things for!”
“Well, the Bible says they weren’t wicked till Eve ate the apple,” Katy replied, staring curiously down at the snake. She had never seen such a big one outside of a circus. “But I think they must have always looked wicked, anyhow. How did you ever dare, Chicken Little, to tackle it? I was expecting it to wind right round you like that picture of Laocoon in our mythology.”
“I shouldn’t have dared if I hadn’t seen so many of them before. I guess being brave is mostly being used to things. But I hate snakes worse than anything in the world–I don’t feel a bit sorry about killing them!”
“Oh, dear,” said Gertie, shuddering, “I s’pose we have got to find the rest of the pigs.”
135Katy and Chicken Little each echoed the sigh. They all started ahead resolutely. But they kept closer together for a time. They went some little distance without finding any further signs of the lost animals.
“You don’t suppose we could have passed them, do you?” Katy inquired anxiously.
“We couldn’t, if they are on this side of the slough.”
A few rods farther on something moved in the swamp grass. All three jumped and screamed: their nerve had been sadly weakened by the bull snake.
A squeal and chorus of grunts reassured them.