saddle had alarmed the rest of the 
party. 
My snake was dead now, so I put 
one foot on him to take his scalp — his 
rattles, I mean— when horrid thrills 
coursed through me. The uncanny 
thing began to wriggle and rattle with 
old-time vigour. I do not like to think 
of that simian inheritance. But, forti- 
fied by Nimrod’s assurance that it was 
‘purely reflex neuro-ganglionic move- 
ment,’ I hardened my heart and cap- 
tured his ‘ pod of dry peas.’ 
Oh, about the wolf hunt! That was 
all, just heat and rattlesnakes. 
The hounds could not run; one died 
from sunstroke while chasing a jack 
tabbit. “No one’ lifted astimeer ait 
could be avoided. All the world was 
an oven, and after three days we gave 
up the chase, and leaving Mountain 
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