RATTLERS 135 
smoked reflectively at the fire. After a decent in- 
terval had elapsed some one asked: 
‘“What happened then?”’ 
Bert looked his reproach at the questioner. 
‘““What happened then? Why nothin’. Of course, 
as soon as the snake got a little bit away we up 
an’ kilt him. What I wuz tryin’ to tell you was 
about that there horse hair rope. Y’ ought-a al- 
ways carry one with you.”’ 
None of us had a horse hair rope, nor did we 
know how such an article could be secured. But for 
some nights we took good care, when no one else was 
looking, to examine our beds for possible intruders. 
After a little time our first nervousness wore off. 
We became largely indifferent to rattlers as soon 
as we realised that they were more afraid of us 
than we were of them. The experience of run- 
ning upon them became commonplace and not worthy 
of remark unless, indeed, the circumstances held a 
special thrill, as once when Frazer, climbing a cliff, 
poked his head above a flat rock and looked into the 
cold eyes of a giant rattler a foot from his face, 
or when Bob Moak was struck twice on the boot by 
a snake on which he had inadvertently trodden. 
It was August, the time that skins were shed, and 
the half-blind reptiles struck more quickly and with 
less provocation than at any other time of year; 
but even so the danger of being wounded was neg- 
ligible unless one actually stepped on a snake or 
