The inspector pointed with his whip to the spot indicated, and for a few minutes we drew rein and admired the scenery.
At our feet was a deep valley, which, in the winter season, received the washings of the mountains that completely surrounded it, and the soil evidently retained the water for some time, for we could see where it had settled or evaporated, and we asked ourselves the question,—
"Did the snakes take up their quarters in the valley for the purpose of being near fresh water for about nine months in the year?"
Mr. Brown only shook his head, and said that he was not versed in "snakeology," but thought that if the reptiles remained in the valley, it was a sign that they liked to take a drink occasionally, and proposed that we should descend.
We assented, but before we did so, we took another survey of the scene before us. As I said before, the valley was surrounded by hills, and the only outlet was by means of a ragged ravine, through which the water had forced its way, and extended to another plain about half a mile distant The hills opposite to us were nearly perpendicular, and their summit could only be gained by immense exertion on the part of a person on foot. The only places where horses could escape, or leave the valley, was by means of the ravine, or the path we were about to descend.
I have been thus particular in describing the locality of Snakes' Paradise, as we named it, because we met with an incident there, which I shall relate in another chapter.
We were obliged to dismount from our animals, when half-way down the mountain, for we found that the trail was very insecure, and that a proper regard for our necks demanded a descent on foot. The horses, freed from our encumbrance, got along very well, and much faster than when guided by reins; but we found that, as we neared the foot of the hill, the animals manifested considerable reluctance to proceeding farther, and that some energy was required to prevent their retracing their steps up the ascent.
At length, however, we readied even ground, and again mounted our restive animals, and led by the inspector, approached a mound of earth, about fifteen or twenty feet high, and eight or ten feet in circumference. It was in the form of a pyramid, and resembled the work of man more than nature, and I turned to the inspector for an explanation.
"What motive could a man have for forming earth in that shape?" I asked.
"That was never built by human beings, but by insects, more industrious than the lords of creation. That pyramid of earth was once the home of millions of black ants, and by them alone was it raised."