Nick himself was busy trying to mend some little contraption, purchased on the street in Jacksonville, and which he had broken before he could have any fun with the same as originally intended.
Jack, stepping off from the Tramp, where he had gone to get some of the tinware needed for coffee and substantial food, was electrified to hear Josh give a whoop; and at the same instant his ears were assailed by a dreadful rattling noise that sounded for all the world like the angry buzz of a diamond-back rattlesnake.
“Thunder and Mars! Great Jerusalem! I’m struck in the leg!” bellowed the lengthy Josh, as he came tumbling back from the edge of the bushes, grabbing at his shin in a frantic manner.
[CHAPTER III.]
DOWN THE INDIAN RIVER.
“Now, what d’ye know about that?” exclaimed Nick, scrambling to his feet after his usual clumsy way; for when the fat boy happened to become excited he generally “fell all over himself,” as Josh put it.
“What ails you, Josh?” demanded Herb.
No sooner had the lengthy one reached a spot near the fire than he threw himself down, and commenced frantically to pull up the left leg of his trousers.
“Gosh! looky there, will you, fellers?” he bellowed, as if in a panic. “He sure got me that time; I guess I’m a goner. Won’t one of you get down and suck the poison out for me? You know, I’d do it in your case. Oh! please hurry up. My leg’s beginning to swell right now, and in a few minutes it’ll be too late!”