The killing of the snake appeared to be the cue for a general return to
quiescence. The howlings of the hound ceased with those of the
henchman. The mustangs once more stood silent under the shadowy trees.
Inside the cabin the only noise heard was an occasional shuffling, when
Phelim, no longer feeling confidence in the protection of his
_cabriesto_, turned restlessly on his horseskin.
Outside also there was but one sound, to disturb the stillness though
its intonation was in striking contrast with that heard within. It
might have been likened to a cross between the grunt of an alligator and
the croaking of a bull-frog; but proceeding, as it did, from the
nostrils of Zeb Stump, it could only be the snore of the slumbering
hunter. Its sonorous fulness proved him to be soundly asleep.
He was--had been, almost from the moment of re-establishing himself
within the circle of his _cabriesto_. The _revanche_ obtained over his
late disturber had acted as a settler to his nerves; and once more was
he enjoying the relaxation of perfect repose.
For nearly an hour did this contrasting duet continue, varied only by an
occasional _recitative_ in the hoot of the great horned owl, or a
_cantata penserosa_ in the lugubrious wail of the prairie wolf.
At the end of this interval, however, the chorus recommenced, breaking
out abruptly as before, and as before led by the vociferous voice of the
Connemara man.
"Meliah murdher!" cried he, his first exclamation not only startling the
host of the hut, but the guest so soundly sleeping outside. "Howly
Mother! Vargin av unpurticted innocence! Save me--save me!"
"Save you from what?" demanded his master, once more springing from his
couch and hastening to strike a light. "What is it, you confounded
fellow?"
"Another snake, yer hanner! Och! be me sowl! a far wickeder sarpent
than the wan Misther Stump killed. It's bit me all over the breast. I
feel the place burnin' where it crawled across me, just as if the
horse-shoer at Ballyballagh had scorched me wid a rid-hot iron!"
"Durn ye for a stinkin' skunk!" shouted Zeb Stump, with his blanket
about his shoulder, quite filling the doorway. "Ye've twicest spiled my
night's sleep, ye Irish fool! 'Scuse me, Mister Gerald! Thur air fools
in all countries, I reck'n, 'Merican as well as Irish--but this hyur
follerer o' yourn air the durndest o' the kind iver I kim acrost.
Dog-goned if I see how we air to get any sleep the night, 'less we
drownd _him_ in the crik fust!"
"Och! Misther Stump dear, don't talk that way. I sware to yez both
there's another snake. I'm shure it's in the kyabin yit. It's only a
minute since I feeled it creepin' over me."
"You must ha' been dreemin?" rejoined the hunter, in a more complacent
tone, and speaking half interrogatively. "I tell ye no snake in Texas
will cross a hosshair rope. The tother 'un must ha' been inside the
house afore ye laid the laryitt roun' it. 'Taint likely there keel ha'
been two on 'em. We kin soon settle that by sarchin'."
"Oh, murdher! Luk hare!" cried the Galwegian, pulling off his shirt and
laying bare his breast. "Thare's the riptoile's track, right acrass
over me ribs! Didn't I tell yez there was another snake? O blissed
Mother, what will become av me? It feels like a strake av fire!"
"Snake!" exclaimed Stump, stepping up to the affrighted Irishman, and
holding the candle close to his skin. "Snake i'deed! By the 'tarnal
airthquake, it air no snake! It air wuss than that!"
"Worse than a snake?" shouted Phelim in dismay. "Worse, yez say,
Misther Stump? Div yez mane that it's dangerous?"
"Wal, it mout be, an it moutn't. Thet ere 'll depend on whether I kin
find somethin' 'bout hyur, an find it soon. Ef I don't, then, Mister
Pheelum, I won't answer--"
"Oh, Misther Stump, don't say thare's danger!"
"What is it?" demanded Maurice, as his eyes rested upon a reddish line
running diagonally across the breast of his follower, and which looked
as if traced by the point of a hot spindle. "What is it, anyhow?" he
repeated with increasing anxiety, as he observed the serious look with
which the hunter regarded the strange marking. "I never saw the like
before. Is it something to be alarmed about?"
"All o' thet, Mister Gerald," replied Stump, motioning Maurice outside
the hut, and speaking to him in a whisper, so as not to be overheard by
Phelim.
"But what is it?" eagerly asked the mustanger. "_It air the crawl o'
the pisen centipede_."
"The poison centipede! Has it bitten him?"
"No, I hardly think it hez. But it don't need thet. The _crawl_ o'
itself air enuf to kill him!"
"Merciful Heaven! you don't mean that?"
"I do, Mister Gerald. I've seed more 'an one good fellur go under wi'
that same sort o' a stripe acrost his skin. If thur ain't somethin'
done, an thet soon, he'll fust get into a ragin' fever, an then he'll go
out o' his senses, jest as if the bite o' a mad dog had gin him the
hydrophoby. It air no use frightenin' him howsomdever, till I sees what
I kin do. Thur's a yarb, or rayther it air a plant, as grows in these
parts. Ef I kin find it handy, there'll be no defeequilty in curin' o'
him. But as the cussed lack wud hev it, the moon hez sneaked out o'
sight; an I kin only get the yarb by gropin'. I know there air plenty
o' it up on the bluff; an ef you'll go back inside, an keep the fellur
quiet, I'll see what kin be done. I won't be gone but a minute."
The whispered colloquy, and the fact of the speakers having gone outside
to carry it on, instead of tranquillising the fears of Phelim, had by
this time augmented them to an extreme degree: and just as the old
hunter, bent upon his herborising errand, disappeared in the darkness,
he came rushing forth from the hut, howling more piteously than ever.
It was some time before his master could get him tranquillised, and then
only by assuring him--on a faith not very firm--that there was not the
slightest danger.
A few seconds after this had been accomplished, Zeb Stump reappeared in
the doorway, with a countenance that produced a pleasant change in the
feelings of those inside. His confident air and attitude proclaimed, as
plainly as words could have done, that he had discovered that of which
he had gone in search--the "yarb." In his right hand he held a number
of oval shaped objects of dark green colour--all of them bristling with
sharp spines, set over the surface in equidistant clusters. Maurice
recognised the leaves of a plant well known to him--the _oregano_
cactus.
"Don't be skeeart, Mister Pheelum!" said the old hunter, in a
consolatory tone, as he stepped across the threshold. "Thur's nothin'
to fear now. I hev got the bolsum as 'll draw the burnin' out o' yur
blood, quicker 'an flame ud scorch a feather. Stop yur yellin', man!
Ye've rousted every bird an beast, an creepin' thing too, I reckon, out
o' thar slumbers, for more an twenty mile up an down the crik. Ef you
go on at that grist much longer, ye'll bring the Kumanchees out o' thur
mountains, an that 'ud be wuss mayhap than the crawl o' this
hunderd-legged critter. Mister Gerald, you git riddy a bandige, whiles
I purpares the powltiss."
Drawing his knife from its sheath, the hunter first lopped off the
spines; and then, removing the outside skin, he split the thick
succulent leaves of the cactus into slices of about an eighth of an inch
in thickness. These he spread contiguously upon a strip of clean cotton
stuff already prepared by the mustanger; and then, with the ability of a
hunter, laid the "powltiss," as he termed it, along the inflamed line,
which he declared to have been made by the claws of the centipede, but
which in reality was caused by the injection of venom from its
poison-charged mandibles, a thousand times inserted into the flesh of
the sleeper!
The application of the _oregano_ was almost instantaneous in its effect.
The acrid juice of the plant, producing a counter poison, killed that
which had been secreted by the animal; and the patient, relieved from
further apprehension, and soothed by the sweet confidence of security--
stronger from reaction--soon fell off into a profound and restorative
slumber.
After searching for the centipede and failing to find it--for this
hideous reptile, known in Mexico as the _alacran_, unlike the
rattlesnake, has no fear of crossing a _cabriesto_--the improvised
physician strode silently out of the cabin; and, once more committing
himself to his grassy couch, slept undisturbed till the morning.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the earliest hour of daybreak all three were astir--Phelim having
recovered both from his fright and his fever. Having made their
matutinal meal upon the _debris_ of the roast turkey, they hastened to
take their departure from the hut. The quondam stable-boy of
Ballyballagh, assisted by the Texan hunter, prepared the wild steeds for
transport across the plains--by stringing them securely together--while
Maurice looked after his own horse and the spotted mare. More
especially did he expend his time upon the beautiful captive--carefully
combing out her mane and tail, and removing from her glossy coat the
stains that told of the severe chase she had cost him before her proud
neck yielded to the constraint of his lazo.
"Durn it, man!" exclaimed Zeb, as, with some surprise, he stood watching
the movements of the mustanger, "ye needn't ha' been hef so purtickler!
Wudley Pointdexter ain't the man as 'll go back from a barg'in. Ye'll
git the two hunderd dollars, sure as my name air Zeblun Stump; an
dog-gone my cats, ef the maar ain't worth every red cent o' the money!"
Maurice heard the remarks without making reply; but the half suppressed
smile playing around his lips told that the Kentuckian had altogether
misconstrued the motive for his assiduous grooming.
In less than an hour after, the mustanger was on the march, mounted on
his blood-bay, and leading the spotted mare at the end of his lazo;
while the captive _cavallada_, under the guidance of the Galwegian
groom, went trooping at a brisk pace over the plain.
Zeb Stump, astride his "ole maar," could only keep up by a constant
hammering with his heels; and Tara, picking his steps through the
spinous _mezquite_ grass, trotted listlessly in the rear.
The hut, with its skin-door closed against animal intruders, was left to
take care of itself; its silent solitude, for a time, to be disturbed
only by the hooting of the horned owl, the scream of the cougar, or the
howl-bark of the hungering coyote.