Speaker 1: Snake by Galen C. Collin. It was Saturday afternoon and
Speaker 1: the men of Moreland County were gathered, as was their custom,
Speaker 1: on the porch of the post office at Clayton Springs.
Speaker 1: They were watching a man who was a stranger to
Speaker 1: most of them, making his way toward them down the
Speaker 1: trail from the hills. It's Ben Tibbets, said Jim Bates.
Speaker 1: He's the feller that came over the divide a month
Speaker 1: or two ago and built a cabin about ten miles
Speaker 1: up the trail. Don't know much about him, but what
Speaker 1: I do know is too much. He beats his wife
Speaker 1: with that. He spat, disgustedly on the porch floor. As
Speaker 1: Ben Tibbets came nearer, a playful puppy, one of the
Speaker 1: pack that always followed Jean Barton, ran to meet him
Speaker 1: with an oath. He gave the puppy a brutal kick
Speaker 1: and sent it sprawling ten feet and rushed at the stranger.
Speaker 1: Instead of defending himself, Tivvetts grobbled at Shan's feet. He
Speaker 1: fairly writhed in fright. Every movement, every expression showed terror
Speaker 1: beyond control. With disgust, Sean spurned him with a foot
Speaker 1: and walked back to the group of interested watcherskwardly. Snake
Speaker 1: was his only comment, and Snake was his name from
Speaker 1: that time on to the men of these western mountains.
Speaker 1: Swarth and low browed he was, with long gorilla like arms.
Speaker 1: His eyes were small and beady, black and furtive. All
Speaker 1: the cunning and lack of conscience of a swamp moccasin
Speaker 1: were shown in his shifty glance. Trapping was ostensibly his occupation.
Speaker 1: Rumour had it otherwise. Hundreds of Chinese were smuggled across
Speaker 1: the border. Much of this smuggling was attributed to Snake,
Speaker 1: and the emigration officers were constantly watching him. He was
Speaker 1: never caught red handed, for he was too sly and patient.
Speaker 1: He made no move until he was absolutely safe. A
Speaker 1: fiery temper had Snake. Physical cowardice. Abject terror at the
Speaker 1: thought of physical injury made him hold his temper well
Speaker 1: in hand toward men. The incident at his first visit
Speaker 1: to Clayton Springs was his only display. Towards his wife.
Speaker 1: He gave it full sway. Never was her face and
Speaker 1: body free from the marks of his beatings, and his
Speaker 1: blows and insults had left her spiritless. Dorothy Tibbott's was
Speaker 1: frail and flaxen haired, always tired looking still after six
Speaker 1: years as the wife of Snake, she showed more than
Speaker 1: a hint of her former beauty, loveliness that had made
Speaker 1: her the belle of the home village in Old York
Speaker 1: State before she came west to be the wife of Snake.
Speaker 1: With the unaccountable heart of a woman, she loved Snake
Speaker 1: and endured his lashings of both tongue and fist. Owing
Speaker 1: to the idolatry of every man in Moreland County, none
Speaker 1: dare say a word against Snake in her presence. They
Speaker 1: were not so reticent among themselves. Jim Bates voiced the
Speaker 1: opinion of all that damn snake he burst out one day,
Speaker 1: if he ever accidentally nips his thumb when he takes
Speaker 1: a chaw of eating tobacco, all the booze in the
Speaker 1: state won't curious poison. He'll swell up and burst like
Speaker 1: a mosquito. These neighbors, had they ever learned the details
Speaker 1: of Snake's demise, would have been the first to sense
Speaker 1: the poetic justice of it. When building his trap lined
Speaker 1: cabin in a secluded ravine up the mountain side. Snake
Speaker 1: built with time, serpent cunning. He labored alone. No one
Speaker 1: had seen him at work. No one knew that beneath
Speaker 1: the rough slab floor was a cellar some eight feet
Speaker 1: square and five feet deep. It was reached by a
Speaker 1: trapdoor cleverly concealed beneath the bunk. The only light came
Speaker 1: through a narrow crack between the cabin wall and the ground. Someday,
Speaker 1: mused snake, as he dug, I'll get sore and kill
Speaker 1: that whimpering female. Then I'll need this hideout. He glanced
Speaker 1: at a six foot length of one inch rope coiled
Speaker 1: in the corner. It was a drizzly, damp spring night
Speaker 1: when Snake realized that his foresight would prove of immediate worth.
Speaker 1: His wife had been more than usually docile. She endured
Speaker 1: his curses without remonts rance. This inflamed Snake's twisted brain
Speaker 1: with maniacal fury. He seized her about the throat and
Speaker 1: wrung her neck as a cook wrings the neck of
Speaker 1: a chicken. He carelessly flung her body into a corner. Then,
Speaker 1: as realization of what he had done, donned, he made
Speaker 1: a pack of all the edibles in the house, slinging
Speaker 1: it to his back, he started for his retreat. He
Speaker 1: did not know that the slamming door had overturned the
Speaker 1: lamp and fired the house. The wind howled dismally through
Speaker 1: the trees. Wet branches, like dead hands, slapped Snake in
Speaker 1: the face. At times. The scraping of boughs brought him
Speaker 1: up standing. So much like the groan of a strickened woman,
Speaker 1: they sounded. It was with a somewhat shaky set of
Speaker 1: nerves that Snake pushed open the cabin door. Into the cellar,
Speaker 1: Snake dragged a few blankets, his pack of provisions, and
Speaker 1: two canteens of water followed. It was pitch dark. Not
Speaker 1: daring to strike a light, he spread the blankets and
Speaker 1: laid down to dream troubled sleep. His neighbors were on
Speaker 1: the trail sooner than he had expected, attracted by the
Speaker 1: light from the burning cabin. Sean Paxton was the first
Speaker 1: on the scene of the tragedy. He lived but half
Speaker 1: a mile down the valley and arrived in time to
Speaker 1: read the marks. Soon a dozen well armed men were
Speaker 1: on the trail, Knowing of Snake's mountain cabin. It was
Speaker 1: there that the hunt centered. A thorough search failed to
Speaker 1: reveal the well concealed hiding place. On account of the
Speaker 1: intense darkness, it was useless to search further. That night,
Speaker 1: the manhunters bumped down in the cabin to snatch a
Speaker 1: few hours of sleep before dawn was their stirring. That
Speaker 1: awakened snake day was just breaking. For some moments, he
Speaker 1: lay with his eyes closed, listening to the comments on
Speaker 1: the killing hang. It's too good for that dirty devil,
Speaker 1: growled Jem Bates. Burnin is better, but I vote for
Speaker 1: a slow Burnin. You bet, I bet he's lit out
Speaker 1: across the divide, hazarded Jack Williams veteran trailer. We'll follow
Speaker 1: him clean to California. The Lull'll never get its hands
Speaker 1: on him. Snake almost chuckled aloud as he slowly opened
Speaker 1: his eyes. Instantly, he froze with horror. Not three feet
Speaker 1: in front of his face was a sinister and menacing coil.
Speaker 1: Quickly he closed his eyes for a few seconds. It
Speaker 1: was no dream. The coil was there. He could almost
Speaker 1: see the quiver of the sinuous body about to strike
Speaker 1: it's He could feel the pair of jet black, glistening
Speaker 1: eyes glaring into his own. He could imagine deadly fangs
Speaker 1: fastening into his cheek. If only he dared draw his
Speaker 1: gun and blow off the reptile's head, that would bring
Speaker 1: more enemies, more deadly about him, If only the men
Speaker 1: above would leave before some inadvertent movement drew that attack.
Speaker 1: Then stark terror took him. Now the reptile breathed twin
Speaker 1: jets of fire. Now it grinned at him in hideous fashion.
Speaker 1: Again it grew and grew, until it almost crowded him
Speaker 1: out of the cellar. He had disappeared for a second.
Speaker 1: Then the blessed relief was broken by finding it more
Speaker 1: menacing than ever in the other corner. Through it all,
Speaker 1: Snake uttered no word. At length, With hypnotic power, the
Speaker 1: eyes drew him. He gently rolled onto his stomach. He
Speaker 1: began to wriggle toward the thing. Could he grasp at
Speaker 1: its slimy throat and choke it before it struck? That
Speaker 1: was his only chance. He would rather die from the
Speaker 1: poisonous fangs than lie here trembling and chilling with terror.
Speaker 1: He moved cautiously, stealthily, His fear filled eyes dimmed and glowed. Alternately,
Speaker 1: was the reptile moving toward him, or merely lying in wait,
Speaker 1: biting its time. Before it struck, he was close enough
Speaker 1: to grasp it. Slowly he raised his hand, he slipped
Speaker 1: his face fell forward into the very center of the
Speaker 1: coil as his hand closed around the slimy throat. Then
Speaker 1: it was over. Many days were consumed in the search
Speaker 1: for the murderer. At length, the disappointed men returned empty handed.
Speaker 1: In time, the story of the crime was almost forgotten.
Speaker 1: But to this day in the cellar, beneath the rough
Speaker 1: slab floor on a faraway mountain ravine, lies the moldering skeleton,
Speaker 1: its long bony fingers clutched tightly around the end of
Speaker 1: a six foot strand of slimy rope. The End of
Speaker 1: Snake by Galen Cullen