“Nonsense!” laughed Dorothy. “A snake isn’t a bulldog. It wouldn’t have chewed you up. But they are dangerous.”
“Poisonous! And I didn’t have the strength to move, I was so frightened. You’ve always helped me out of messes, Doro Doodlebug! but this time you saved my life,” and Tavia seized her chum in her arms. “I hope I’ll be able to do something big for you some day to pay you up a little, wee mite!”
“You poor child!” Dorothy said, tenderly. “Don’t talk such perfectly nonsensical stuff. I did no more for you than you would have done for me in like circumstances.”
“I know all about that,” said Tavia, wiping her eyes. “But you’d never get into such a silly scrape, and so give me a chance. I do get into such perfect bunches of trouble, Doro. Life, for me, seems to be just one silly scrape after another!”
By morning, however, Tavia had put the lesson of her adventure into the background. There was so much to do and see on the ranch that she could not really spend the time in thinking of a rattlesnake that was already dead!
The four young folk rode hard with one of the Mexicans that day. Dorothy and Tavia were rather shy of the long, wicked looking horns and the tossing heads and flashing eyes of the cattle, so gave them a wide berth. Ned and Nat began practising throwing the rope, and displayed a deeper interest in the cattle business than the girls could possibly feel.
Dorothy and Tavia thought the Mexican rather a villainous looking fellow, too—not at all like the handsome José Morale, who had driven them over from Dugonne, so after a while they rode back toward the home corral, leaving Ned and Nat to go on to the second herd without them.
The girls had, by this time, no fear of the ponies they bestrode. Both were well broken steeds without any vicious characteristics. As they drew near the end of the first shed, Dorothy’s mount “side-stepped” unexpectedly and the girl was almost thrown.
“Did you see it?” demanded Tavia, hastily.
“I didn’t see anything, but the pony evidently did,” laughed Dorothy, fearlessly. “What was it, Tavia?”