116 THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 



rope arranged by Juan for my reassurance. A 

 snake had dared to show himself in my house during 

 the day, and though innocuous he was a snake just 

 the same. 



Whip-snakes, which an excited fancy measures 

 by the mile rather than by the foot, trail across the 

 landscape with a velocity truly appalling. They also 

 are harmless, unless the Mexican legend that they 

 milk cows is to be counted against them. At the 

 same time when Juan called on me once to help him 

 corner one, I retreated into the house. Juan's 

 young daughter flew to his assistance, and her sly 

 smiles at the senora who was afraid worried me no 

 whit. 



And while on the subject of revolting creatures, 

 bats must not be omitted. Instead of being lucrative 

 assets, as in their own caves, they are in our dwel- 

 lings natural enemies. After the wood-peckers 

 have drilled holes in the mud walls then enters in 

 the bat and makes night hideous and sleepless. The 

 ceilings of old houses are made of canvas stretched 

 tight and whitewashed or painted, so the bat swoop- 

 ing in and out between roof and canvas makes of 

 night one mad, prolonged orgie. Then with daylight 

 comes Ricardo and daubs wet clay over the holes, 

 and repose is sought in some remote chamber until 

 the unwelcome visitor is dead and dry — a brief 

 process in this climate. One novel and successful 

 remedy for the bat nuisance is worth relating. 



At our health resort on a summer evening we 

 were discussing this nuisance. The healthseekers 

 had fled to their Eastern homes, cursing the bats 



