CHAPTER XLI.

VISIT TO SNAKES’ PARADISE.

We spent the day in idleness, for the adventures of the preceding night were too harrowing to allow our minds to become settled on any kind of work.  It is true that we had many questions to answer, and that numerous visitors thronged our store from sunrise until dark; but after repeating our story to our friend Charley, he took upon himself the important situation of narrator of the snake’s doings, and by that means we were entirely relieved of a disagreeable duty.

Our California friend—­never a great stickler for truth—­embellished his version of the affair in such glowing colors, and set forth the courage that we had displayed in the fight in such a guise that we really began to think that our conduct was not so very tame, after all, and that we were worthy of the congratulations showered upon us by the admiring miners, who vowed that when our stock of goods was in, we were the men for their money.

At length, however, the last visitor had taken his departure, with the exception of Charley.  He hung around, as though he had some important duty yet unperformed, but what it was we were at a loss to know until he disclosed it.

“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” he asked, taking a seat by our rickety supper table.

“In getting the crowd off?  Yes, we feel much obliged to you,” Fred rejoined.

“O, tain’t that.  I mean ’bout making the fellers believe all I told um.”  “Why, I must say that I think you disregarded the truth slightly, in your account of the adventures.”

“O, I know that I did; but don’t you see that it was all ’cos I wanted to make ye popular with the masses, and one of these days you’ll get elevated to pay for it.  I knew that you fellers was frightened to death when you seed the snake, but of course I wasn’t going to say so, ’cos if I had, it would have sp’ilt all.  O, no; I know’d better than all that, by a long chalk.  Putty good coffee this, ain’t it?”

We were silent with astonishment and admiration at his matchless impudence.

“Perhaps you will be good enough to let us know how you knew we were frightened?” Fred asked, coolly.

“Certainly—­’cos I met one of the same darned things, and I run like the devil.  Fact, although you may not believe it.  I don’t fight snakes, if I can get clear of um.”

The man’s answer was so characteristic of human nature, that we could but smile at the honest expression, and were not disposed to quarrel with him for giving vent to the same feeling that would have actuated us in another encounter.

“I s’pose you won’t mind coming down an ounce for the service I’ve rendered you to-day,” Charley said, after a pause.

“For what service?” I demanded, in astonishment.

“O, for making you popular, that’s all,” he repeated.

“Look here, my friend,” Fred said; “it seems to me that you think we are two log-rolling politicians, anxious to turn every thing of an exciting nature to an advantage.  In this you are disappointed.  We are here to get money, and not to get office.”