There is nothing that bothers a boy more than having to wait, when he's all ready to do something. The minutes seem to drag as though they were leaden weighted. If Davy unfastened that knapsack of his once to examine its contents, and make sure he had neglected nothing, he did it half a dozen times, until Giraffe declared he would certainly wear the straps out if he kept that up. Those who expected to remain in camp were going about their usual vocations, as for instance the cleaning up of the breakfast tin pans, and cooking utensils. When a company of eleven souls has been having a meal, these amount to considerable; and it took Bob White, Allan and Bumpus some little time to accomplish the task of setting things to rights. Bumpus had gone to get some more water from the stream, and when he came back he was grinning broadly. "Why, you see," he explained, "there's an old rattlesnake coiled up over there, and I've been making him as mad as hops, poking at him with a pole. You just ought to come and see him strike, though!" "I heard him rattle!" declared Thad, "but somehow I just thought it was a locust waking up. Come on, boys, and let's put such a dangerous customer out of the way!" CHAPTER IX. BAITING A RATTLESNAKE. Of course they all hastened after the scoutmaster and Bumpus; the latter really leading the way, with a consequential way about him, as though he felt that he ought to be looked upon as master of ceremonies, by right of first discovery. "Here's the pole I had, when I poked him," he remarked, picking it up as he spoke. "But where's the rattler?" demanded Giraffe, just as swift as that; for he was always as quick as lightning in his ways. "Show the old fraud to us, will you? Must a slipped away while you came to camp with the water." "Huh!" sneered Step Hen, "I'd rather believe now, Bumpus don't know a rattler when he sees one. P'raps it was only an innocent little garter snake he was pokin', and a locust was singin' in a tree all the while." Bumpus looked furious. He had lately gained quite an envious reputation for a remarkable knowledge of woodcraft; and he was up in arms at the idea of being thus placed once more in the tenderfoot class. "Think I don't know a genuine rattlesnake when I see one, do you; well, what d'ye think of a feller that'd jump over a log without even lookin', and when a common garden variety of black snake gave him a jab, he hollered that he was poisoned by a terrible rattler, and could even see his poor leg swellin' up right before his eyes. Me not know one, when I've been in the Zoo reptile house down in New York, and even watched one swallow a rat! Well, I guess you're away off, Step Hen Bingham."