An hour or two passed, and we became sensible of the pangs of hunger. We searched our pockets, and discovered that one biscuit was our entire stock of provisions. This we divided and gloomily ate.
An incident now occurred which showed that our position had its positive dangers. A fallen tree lay before us.
Upon mounting the log, I espied, coiled in many folds, with its rattle erect in the center, a huge rattlesnake.
Just as I was about to leap down, my eye caught its villainous glance. Fortunately I knew enough of serpent lore to recognize this formidable enemy, and, with a shout and gesture, prevented my companion climbing the log.
Nor were we a moment too soon. The creature had evidently observed us, for, as we fled, we heard his warning rattle, and momentarily expected him to spring over the log, in pursuit.
As the sun drew westward, we busied ourselves with picking out a tree suitable for camping purposes.[{51}]
I helped my companion to mount one, which was thick and bushy, in the branches of which he soon lay down.
I stayed below to watch for a last chance. It seemed a useless thing to do; yet, though hoarse with shouting, I once more lifted up my voice.
Was it a fancy that there was a reply? We could not be mistaken, for both of us heard a faint, far-off response.
We waited with intense anxiety the approach of the stranger.