We again moved forward, but we both felt very doubtful whether we were going right. For my own part, I know but few sensations so disagreeable as the idea that one has lost one’s way. We were passing along a low sandy spot, with high bushes and trees on either side, when Captain Laffan’s horse gave a sudden start; and looking down, we saw a small shiny snake gliding away. The horse had evidently been bitten, for we could see the mark of the creature’s fangs above the fetlock, and soon the leg began to swell. The poor animal proceeded with the greatest difficulty. What remedies to apply we neither of us knew, but we had heard of the existence of a small snake called the aranas, the poison from whose fangs is so subtle that animals bitten often die within an hour; and even when remedies are applied, few are ever saved.
“The creature might have bitten either of ourselves,” I observed.
“I do not think this species ever attacks man,—though I should not like to put the matter to the test,” answered Captain Laffan.
There was no use in our stopping, especially as there might be other snakes of the same kind in the neighbourhood. We therefore, as long as the poor horse could move, pushed forward; but its pace became more and more sluggish, as the limb continued to swell. At length the animal stopped altogether, and my companion, feeling it tremble, leaped off. Scarcely had he done so when it came to the ground, and lay struggling in violent convulsions. Mr Laffan contrived to take off the saddle before it was damaged. In a few minutes, foaming at the mouth, the horse died, evidently in great pain.
“No use groaning over what cannot be helped,” observed the captain. “You take the saddle, and put it before you; I’ll carry the bridle; and I must try to get another horse as soon as possible.”
The delay was serious, but it could not be helped; so we moved along, Mr Laffan trudging by my side. I asked him to get up, but he positively refused to do so.
The belief that we had lost our road was still further depressing. I thought especially of the serious consequences which might ensue to Juan should we not soon obtain the assistance of which we were in search. At length my eye fell on a papaw-tree, and what appeared to be a hut just below it. Riding on, we saw a Creole peasant-woman walking along and spinning, evidently near her home. At first, on seeing us, she seemed disposed to fly; but on our calling to her and assuring her that we were friends, she stood still, waiting for us to come up. Our wants were soon explained: we should be glad, of a horse, a guide, and especially of some food. Food she could give us. Her husband was out, she said, but he would soon return, and he would procure a horse, of which there were several broken-in on the farm; and perhaps he himself would act as our guide.
Eager to push on, our patience was greatly tried; though we waited and waited, the woman’s husband did not appear. At last Mr Laffan proposed going out and catching one of the horses.
“But then you will not know in what direction to ride,” observed the woman. “You have no right, either, to take the horse without my husband’s leave.”
“Might makes right,” answered Mr Laffan; “however, we will not act the part of robbers, but will pay you handsomely for the horse.”