MY WEE ENEMY.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXI, Issue 7246, 21 May 1884, Page 6

MY WEE ENEMY.

(American Paper.) Overhead are tho branches of a cottonwood, and lying with my head on the saddle I lazily puff at my pipe and watch the motions of a jaybird hopping from limb to limb and acting queorly, oven for a jay, A July day—a warm sun—an outlook for miles and miles across a prairie as level as a table. Down in the dip to tho right tho horses are feeding; on tho other side of the grove, at tho spring, the men are cooking, mending, and cleaning their weapons. It is a lazy, dreamy, languid hour. It is an exertion to even puff at tho pipe, “ Say! Say !” It was tho jaybird who called out to mo. Ho is on a branch directly overhead, and with neck so far outstretched that ho is almost off his balance, ho is looking mo straight in tho eye. I’ve seen jaybirds by tho thousand, but I never heard of one talking before. “ You called : ‘ Say ! Sav ’’ Well, say on.” “ What’s that?” he called, as ho whirled himself about on the limb andlooked down upon tho prairie.

“ What’s that ? Perhaps it’s a coyote skulking through tho grass to have a look at us and hunt for scraps of food. What sort of a jay-bird are you that you have never seen a coyote before ?” Ho looked down upon me in deep disgust, turning his head from side to side, and finally demanded; “ Say! are you awake ?”

“Of course I am. Where are your eyes that you can’t see that mine are wide open ?” “Say! say! say!” he shouted, as he hopped about as if terribly excited. “ Say yourself. If you don’t stop this nonsense I’ll get up and fling a club at you!” “You will, eh? You will, eh?” “ Yes, I will. The idea of a hop-o’my-thumb like you bothering around here and keeping me out of a nap is a little too steep. Come, be off with you.” “ Say! ” he called in a lower voice, as he dropped down about two feet, “he’scoming! He’s crawling from that heap of rocks straight towards you.” " Bosh! A coyote could be frightened by the cry of a child! ” “ A c-o-y-o-t-e! ” he drawled, in tones of disgust, “ who said it was a coyote ? You seem to have coyote on the brain.” “ Is it a wolf ? ” “Worse! ” “ Panther ? ” “ Worse!” “Come, now, don’t tell me it’s a grizzly! Such a brute was never seen within a hundred miles of this spot.” “Worse! worse! worse!” he shrieked as he fluttered his wings andhopped about. “ A Sioux warrior creeping up to scalp me? Ha! Ha!” “Worse than that!” he solemnly answered as he dropped to the very lowest limb. “ A monster rattlesnake is crawling towards you! He’s close to that stump at your left! Spring to your feet and rush away! ”

“ Hold on a minute and let me see. Certainly there are serpents on the prairie, but they go their own way unless disturbed.” “ There! there! there f ”

I can see without turning my head. Between me and the shrub, and not three paces away, a rattler throws himself into a coil at sound of the jay’s shrill voice. His head waves to and fro like some flower bending before the summer breeze, and the r-r-r-r-r ! of his rattles sounds like pouring duck-shot into a tin pan. I can see the neck and swell—the fiery tongue dart out and in—the tiny coals of fire placed in his head for eyes. “ Jump ! jump ! jump ! ” screams the

jay. I’Uwait: It’s a horrid sight, and yet there is something strangely pleasing in it. Artists picture death as a fleshless skeleton, clutching at our throats with bony fingers. Why not have taken the head of a rattlesnake ? Behind that tongue are fangs filled with a quick and terrible death.

“ Too late! too late J ” calls jaybird as he flies higher. Yes, the snake has straightened out and is creeping nearer. Before I could leap up he would coil and spring, and that spring would strike those terrible fangs into the flesh. “ Lie still!” whispers the bird.

Tes. The pipe has dropped to the grass, the sun seems warmer, the hour has more langour than before. I can hear -the men laughing and singing, and now and then there is a neigh from one of the horses. Lie still! Why, if one were to offer me all the gold ever mined in California I would not make a movement of my arm to break this dreamy, peaceful spell. “ He’s right beside you!” says the bird. Yes, I can hear and feel him, and the odour is one never to be forgotten. The man who has a lock of hair cut from his head by a bullet tells of his narrow escape from death. The man who feels a prairie rattlesnake crawling between his 'outstretched arm and side never lives to relate it.

“ Shut your eyes.” I cannot. If I knew they were to gaze upon all the horrors of a veritable hell I could not close them. They are wide open as that terrible head slowly rises up within a foot of my face. I said the eyes, of a rattler resembled coals of fire. What is the glow of a coal compared to the flash of ' a diamond! Here, as I look square into his eyes, I see such anger and hate and vindictiveness as no eye of man or beast ever betrayed. But there is nothing to make the blood thrill and the nerves jump—-nothing to make the heart stand still. On the contrary it is a picture which interests and pleases. There is a grim satisfaction in even looking into the eyes of death. “ Hip! Hip! You are fascinated!” chatters, the jaybird. Nonsense ! Am I not looking straight into the reptile’s eyes and noting every changing gleam and glance? Don’t I follow every dart of that forked tongue—every motion of that horrible head’? I know I could spring up, but I won’t. I’ll wait and see if he will strike me. Death ! Pooh! I will simply close my eyes after his bite—a dreamy stupor will follow—the men will search for me by and by, and—but that’s all! Their consternation and astonishment will be grimly humorous. " I’m going! going I going!” cries the bird.

Well, go! I’m glad of it! Tour chatter distracts my mind from the picture. The serpent doesn’t strike. He is near enough, but he hesitates. Perhaps there are cowards among serpents as well as braggarts among men. Yes, I call him a coward as I gaze straight into his eyes. I have those horrible fangs before me, but I dare and defy him! To and fro weaves the head—in and out darts the little streak of flame—glitter and gleam and glint the eyes which look into mine! Peace—contentment—rest! I will sleep! “I did it! I did it!” screams the jaybird. " Did what ?” “ Brought ope of your companions ! The snake heard him coming, and crept swiftly away! You are saved! I did it.” “ An d no thanks to you! Human being would never have died more willingly and peacefully.” “ I’m glpd! I’m glad!” “And I’m sorry! If y o u were not a wee, contemptible enemy, Fd take revenge on you!”