But there were two others within the cabin who were by no means merry—the two cousins, who were standing huddled together on the couch, uttering spasmodic screeches at every movement made by a little gray snake on the floor.
It had crept in at a crevice, and did not know how to make its escape from the noisy shelter it had found. Its fright was equal to that of the women, for it appeared decidedly restless, and each uneasy movement of it was a signal for fresh screams.
“Oh, Mr. Overton! I beg of you, kill the horrible reptile!” moaned Miss Slocum, who at that moment was as indifferent to the proprieties as Mrs. Huzzard, and was 248 displaying considerable white hosiery and black gaiter tops.
“Oh, lawsy! It is coming this way again. Ooh—ooh—h!” and Mrs. Huzzard did a little dance from one foot to the other, in a very ecstasy of fear. “Oh, Lavina, I’ll never forgive myself for advising you to come out to this Idaho country! Oh, Lord! won’t somebody kill it?”
“Why, there is no need to fear that little thing,” said Overton. “Really, it is not a snake to bite—no more harm in it than in a mouse.”
“A mouse!” they both shrieked. “Oh, please take it away.”
Just then Akkomi came in through the other cabin, and, hearing the shrieks, simply stooped and picked up the little stranger in his hand, holding it that they might see how harmless it was.
But, instead of pacifying them, as he had kindly intended, they only cowered against the wall, too horrified even to scream, while they gazed at the old Indian, as at something just from the infernal regions.
“Lord, have mercy on our souls,” muttered Lavina, in a sepulchral tone, and with pallid, almost moveless, lips.
“Forever and ever, amen,” added Lorena Jane, clutching her drapery a little closer, and a little higher.