sting his feet, watching the fragrant smoke from his pipe curling to
the browned rafters, smiling at the battling elements outside and
congratulating himself on the good fortune that had directed his eyes
toward such a castle. He was dozing off into a comfortable sleep, when
he felt a movement in the hay under his back. Thinking it was a field
mouse or a mole, he paid no attention to it; but when the pressure
against his back became stronger, he leaped to his feet and was
horrified to see the shining, hissing head of a snake rise out of the
hay. The reptile elevated its head two feet or more from the floor,
swaying from side to side in an angry fashion as though indignant
at the unusual intrusion. As it continued to uncoil its hideous length,
Paul seized a piece of wood and aimed a blow at its head. It quickly
disappeared and he could hear it drop somewhere underneath, hissing as
it went. Removing a portion of the litter, Paul found a kind of pit
covered with boards, apparently six feet deep, made, no doubt, for
storing provisions during the winter. Not caring to investigate
further, he dropped the board in its place and covered it again. He
determined not to be driven from his rest by the snakes, as he had been
by the coyotes, so he put on the dress and laid on the floor away from
the pit, covering his face as that was the only part of his body
exposed, and was soon sound asleep.
It was almost sunrise when he awoke. He replenished the fire and cooked
breakfast. The storm had passed and the sun was rising in a cloudless
sky, promising a fine day. After breakfast, when everything was prepared
for a hasty departure, he concluded to find out what had become of his
friend, the snake. Removing a few boards from the mouth of the pit, he
took up a burning brand from the fire and thrust it into the dark hole.
The sight sent a chill through every vein. Had he looked upon it the
night before, he would have trusted himself to the mercy of the
storm rather than sleep where he did. The place was alive with a
squirming mass of hideous reptiles, hissing and gliding about at being
disturbed. They were probably in their winter quarters and the fire had
roused them from their torpor. Quickly throwing the burning wood amongst
them, he dropped the planks and seizing the Baby, quitted the den and
was in the water like a flash. Many miles below, in a sharp bend that
headed him toward the northwest again, he saw a
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