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'Thar's no more harm in Julius Caesar than if he's a fullblown rose. "Jack Moore, bein' marshal, of course stands his hand. It's his offishul dooty to play a pat hand on bull-snakes an' danger in all an' any forms. An' Jack does it.
"'No, he says, 'rattlesnakes is all right good, sociable, moral snakes enough; but in a sperit of humor they may bite you or some play like that, an' thar you'd be. No; bull-snakes is as 'fectionate as rattles, an' don't run to p'ison. You don't have no inadvertencies with 'em. "'Can't you bust the fangs outen rattlesnakes? I asks.
"But all the same Crawfish prances into camp on this yere occasion with Julius bushwacked 'way 'round back in his shirt, an' sech vacant spaces about his person as ain't otherwise occupied a- nourishin' of minor bull-snakes plenty profuse. "Of course them snakes is all holdin' back, bein', after all, timid cattle; an' so none of us s'spects Crawfish is packin' any sech s'prises.
Moreover, it done gives Dan Boggs the fan-tods. As I relates prior, Boggs is emotional a whole lot, an' once let him get what you-all calls a shock same, for instance, as them bull-snakes its shore due to set Boggs's intellects to millin'. An' that's what happens now. We-alls don't get Boggs; bedded down none for ten days, his visions is that acoote.
'Aren't you afraid of snakes? 'A little, I admitted, 'but I'd like to stay, anyhow. 'Well, if you see one, don't have anything to do with him. The big yellow and brown ones won't hurt you; they're bull-snakes and help to keep the gophers down. Don't be scared if you see anything look out of that hole in the bank over there. That's a badger hole.
Thar's no harm in 'em; bein' all bull-snakes, which is innocuous an' without p'ison, fangs, or convictions. "When Crawfish goes to cook, he dumps these folks oaten his clothes, an' lets 'em hustle an'play'round while grub's gettin'. "'These yere little animals, he says, 'likes their reecreations same as humans, so I allers gives 'em a play-spell while I'm busy round camp.
But the Swede boy snared plenty of gray gophers, and they all shared the fate of the first one, lost their tails and were left to lie on the edge of the ruined meadow. When the spot was visited afterward, it was generally found that they had disappeared. But this did not trouble the little girl, for she wisely concluded that the bull-snakes were having a fat time of it.
"'I shore hopes he's on the hot trail of them bull-snakes of his'n, says Dan Boggs, as we lays Crawfish out on a monte-table. 'Seems like he thought monstrous well of 'em, an' it would mighty likely please him to run up on 'em where he's gone. "Whatever did we do? Why, we digs a grave out back of the dance-hall an' plants Crawfish an' his pets tharin.
"While Crawfish is busy recountin' the attainments of Julius Caesar, a-holdin' of his pet with one hand, Jack Moore takes a snap shot at him along the bar with his six-shooter, an' away goes Julius Caesar's head like a puff of smoke. Then Moore rounds up Crawfish, an', perceivin' of the other bull-snakes, he searches 'em out one by one an' massacres 'em.
She peered down at me from under her sunbonnet. “Are n’t you afraid of snakes?” “A little,” I admitted, “but I’d like to stay anyhow.” “Well, if you see one, don’t have anything to do with him. The big yellow and brown ones won’t hurt you; they’re bull-snakes and help to keep the gophers down. Don’t be scared if you see anything look out of that hole in the bank over there. That’s a badger hole.
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