arland, leaning against his
father's knee after listening to a true story, "I wish I could be as
brave as that!"

"Perhaps you will be when you grow up."

"But maybe I sha'n't ever be on a railroad train when there is going
to be an accident!"

"Ah! but there are sure to be plenty of other ways for a brave man to
show himself."

Several days after this, when Marland had quite forgotten about trying
to be brave, thinking, indeed, that he would have to wait anyway until
he was a man, he and his little playmate, Ada, a year younger, were
playing in the dog-kennel. It was a very large kennel, so that the two
children often crept into it to "play house." After awhile, Marland,
who, of course, was playing the papa of the house, was to go "down
town" to his business; he put his little head out of the door of the
kennel, and was just about to creep out, when right in front of him in
the path he saw a snake. He knew in a moment just what sort of a snake
it was, and how dangerous it was; he knew it was a rattlesnake, and
that if it bit Ada or him, they would probably die. For Marland had
spent two summers on his papa's big ranch in Kansas, and he had been
told over and over again, if he ever saw a snake to run away from it
as fast as he could, and this snake just in front of him was making
the queer little noise with the rattles at the end of his tail which
Marland had heard enough about to be able to recognize.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE RANCHMAN. (From a photograph.)]

Now you must know that a rattlesnake is not at all like a lion or a
bear, although just as dangerous in its own way. It will not chase
you; it can only spring a distance equal to its own length, and it
has to wait and coil itself up in a ring, sounding its warning all
the time, before it can strike at all. So if you are ever so little
distance from it when you see it first, you can easily escape from
it. The only danger is from stepping on it without seeing it. But
Marland's snake was already coiled, and it was hardly more than a foot
from the entrance to the kennel. You must know that the kennel was not
out in an open field, either, but under a piazza, and a lattice work
very near it left a very narrow passage for the children, even when
there wasn't any snake. If they had been standing upright, they could
have run, narrow as the way was; but they would have to crawl out of
the kennel and find room for their entire little bodies on the ground
before they