“Only,” he added, “look before you step over a log when you’re afoot.  The fangs of a big diamond-back are three-quarters of an inch long, my dear, and they’ll go through leather as a needle goes through cambric.”

“Thanks, dad—­and here endeth the usual lesson.”

Cardross said to Hamil:  “One scarcely knows what to think about the snakes here.  The records of the entire Union show few deaths in a year, and yet there’s no scarcity of rattlers, copperheads, and moccasins in this Republic of ours.  I know a man, an ornithologist, who for twelve years has wandered about the Florida woods and never saw a rattler.  And yet, the other night a Northern man, a cottager, lighted his cigar after dinner and stepped off his veranda on to a rattler.”

“Was he bitten?”

“Yes.  He died in two hours.”  Cardross shrugged and gathered up his bridle.  “Personally I have no fear; leggings won’t help much; besides, a good-sized snake can strike one’s hand as it swings; but our cracker guides go everywhere in thin cotton trousers and the Seminoles are barelegged.  One hears often enough of escapes, yet very rarely of anybody being bitten.  One of my grove guards was struck by a moccasin last winter.  He was an awfully sick nigger for a while, but he got over it.”

“That’s cheerful,” said Hamil, laughing.

“Oh, you might as well know.  There are plenty of wiseacres who’ll tell you that nobody’s in danger at these East Coast resorts, and the hotel people will swear solemnly there isn’t a serpent in the State; but there are, Hamil, and plenty of them.  I’ve seen rattlers strike without rattling; and moccasins are ugly brutes that won’t get out of the way for you and that give no warning when they strike; and all quail hunters in the flat-woods know how their pointers and setters are killed, and every farmer knows that the best watchmen he can have is a flock of guinea-fowl or turkeys or a few hogs loose.  The fact is that deadly snakes are not rare in many localities; the wonder is that scarcely a death is reported in a year.  How many niggers die, I don’t know; but I know enough, when I’m in the woods or fields, to look every time before I put my foot upon the ground.”

“How can you see in the jungle?”

“You’ve got to see.  Besides, rattlers are on the edge of thickets, not inside.  They’ve got to have an open space to strike the small furry creatures which they live on.  Moccasins affect mud—­look there!”

Both horses shyed; in front Shiela’s mount was behaving badly, but even while she was mastering him she tried at the same time to extract her shotgun from the leather boot.  Stent rode up and drew it out for her; Hamil saw her break and load, swing in the saddle, and gaze straight into an evil-looking bog all set with ancient cypress knees and the undulating snaky roots of palmettos.

“A perfectly enormous one, dad!” she called back.