His horse finished its drink and its barley.  He heard it shake itself as a horse does after its sweaty work is done.  Without turning his head he knew where it was going to lie down for a roll.  Now he did turn a little, seeing through the coming dimness of night the four legs waving in air as the beast struggled to turn over on its back.  It was a new horse, one he had purchased some weeks ago with a number of others and had not ridden until now; he recalled how, when a boy, he had shared other youngsters’ superstition in connexion with a horse rolling.  If it went clean over, it was worth a hundred dollars, if it rolled back, another hundred, and so on.

But this animal did not complete the one effort.  Howard heard its sudden terrified snort, saw it scramble wildly to its feet and go plunging off to the end of its tether, knew that even the strong rope had broken and the horse was running wild.  And as the man jumped to his feet he knew why.  For before the snort of fear he had heard another sound, one indescribable to him who has not heard it and unforgettable and on the instant recognizable to him who has; that quiet noise resembling as much as anything else the harsh rustling of dead, bone-dry leaves.  As he ran forward, Howard prayed in his heart that the snake’s fangs had not met in horseflesh.

Because the light was not all gone and he knew just where to look, he saw the rattler slipping away across the sand.  He thrust his gun down as close as he dared and with the first shot blew the sinister, flat head off the ugly thick body.  Then he went forward, calling soothingly to his horse.

Had it been any one of the horses he rode customarily, his voice might have carried something of quiet to startled nerves.  But as it was the horse was frightened, it was free, it was running and the broken end of the tie-rope, whipping at its heels, put fresh terror into it.  Howard saw it dimly as it crested a ridge a few hundred yards off; then its vague shape was gone, swallowed up in the night.  He hurried after it over the ridge.  The stars showed him empty spaces of billowy sand; there were black spots marking hollows and nowhere his horse.  But yet he went forward hopefully or at least striving to retain his hope.  He had little liking for the plight that would be his were he set afoot here in the heart of the Bad Lands.  But at the end of upwards of an hour of fruitless search he went back to the water-hole and his traps, seeing the folly of further seeking now.  He would have to camp here until daybreak.  Tomorrow he might find his horse and might or might not recapture it; to-morrow he might see the poor beast lying dead and horribly swollen; to-morrow he might find in the empty desert nothing but emptiness.  For to-night there was nothing better to do than make his bed and go to sleep under the stars and thank God for food and water.