Part 41 (1/2)
A bright sparkle now attracted my eye; and, on looking at the object attentively, I discovered, to my horror, that the spiral protuberance upon the vine was nothing else than the folds of a snake! Squeezing himself silently down the parasite--for he had come from above--the reptile slowly uncoiled two or three of the lowermost rings, and stretched his glistening neck horizontally over the hammock. Now, for the first time, I perceived the horned protuberance on his head, and recognised the dreaded reptile--the _macaurel_ (the _cobra_ of America).
In this position he remained for some moments, perfectly motionless, his neck proudly curved like that of a swan, while his head was not twelve inches from the face of the sleeper. I fancied that I could see the soft down upon her lip playing under his breath!
He now commenced slowly vibrating from side to side, while a low, hissing sound proceeded from his open jaws. His horns projected out, adding to the hideousness of his appearance; and at intervals his forked tongue shot forth, glancing in the sun like a purple diamond.
He appeared to be gloating over his victim, in the act of charming her to death. I even fancied that her lips moved, and her head began to stir backward and forward, following the oscillations of the reptile.
All this I witnessed without the power to move. My soul as well as my body was chained; but, even had I been free, I could have offered no help. I knew that the only hope of her safety lay in silence. Unless disturbed and angered, the snake might not bite; but was he not at that moment distilling some secret venom upon her lips?
”Oh, Heaven!” I gasped out, in the intensity of my fears, ”is this the fiend himself? She moves!--now he will strike! Not yet--she is still again. Now--now!--mercy! she trembles!--the hammock shakes--she is quivering under the fascin-- Ha!”
A shot rang from the walls--the snake suddenly jerked back his head--his rings flew out, and he fell to the earth, writhing as if in pain!
The girls started with a scream, and sprang simultaneously from their hammocks.
Grasping each other by the hand, with terrified looks they rushed from the spot and disappeared.
Several men ran up, ending the snake with their sabres. One of them stooped, and examining the carcase of the dead reptile, exclaimed:
”_Carai_! there is a hole in his head--he has been shot!”
A moment after, half a dozen of the guerilleros burst open the door and rushed in, crying out as they entered:
”_Quien tira_?” (Who fired?)
”What do you mean?” angrily asked Raoul, who had been in ill-humour ever since the guerillero had refused him a draught of water.
”I ask you who fired the shot?” repeated the man.
”Fired the shot!” echoed Raoul, knowing nothing of what had occurred outside. ”We look like firing a shot, don't we? If I possessed that power, my gay friend, the first use I should make of it would be to send a bullet through that clumsy skull of yours.”
”_Santissima_!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Mexican, with a look of astonishment.
”It could not be these--they are all tied!”
And the Mexicans pa.s.sed out again, leaving us to our reflections.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA.
Mine were anything but agreeable. I was pained and puzzled. I was pained to think that _she_--dearer to me than life--was thus exposed to the dangers that surrounded us. It was her sister that had occupied the other hammock.
”Are they alone? Are they prisoners in the hands of these half-robbers?
May not their hospitality to us have brought them under proscription?
And are they not being carried--father, mother, and all--before some tribunal? Or are they travelling for protection with this band-- protection against the less scrupulous robbers that infest the country?”
It was not uncommon upon the Rio Grande, when rich families journeyed from point to point, to pay for an escort of this sort. This may elucidate--.