The audience nodded wearily.
"But the loose head flew agin me, and the fangs caught I was pretty sick for a while."
"It don't pay to be clumsy," said the first man. "If you'd snapped the snake away from yu' instead of toward yu', its head would have whirled off into the brush, same as they do with me."
"How like a knife-cut your scar looks!" said I.
"Don't it?" said the snake-snapper. "There's many that gets fooled by it."
"An antelope knows a snake is his enemy," said another to me. "Ever seen a buck circling round and round a rattler? "
"I have always wanted to see that," said I, heartily. For this I knew to be a respectable piece of truth.
"It's worth seeing," the man went on. "After the buck gets close in, he gives an almighty jump up in the air, and down comes his four hoofs in a bunch right on top of Mr. Snake. Cuts him all to hash. Now you tell me how the buck knows that."
Of course I could not tell him. And again we sat in silence for a while—friendlier silence, I thought.
"A skunk'll kill yu' worse than a snake bite," said another, presently. "No, I don't mean that way," he added. For I had smiled. "There is a brown skunk down in Arkansaw. Kind of prairie-dog brown. Littler than our variety, he is. And he is mad the whole year round, same as a dog gets. Only the dog has a spell and dies; but this here Arkansaw skunk is mad right along, and it don't seem to interfere with his business
