“Well, I thought something was in the wind,” said Joe, pondering, “but it’ll break Miss Mary’s—” “Pshaw!” replied Glenn, quickly interrupting him; “you don’t know what you are talking about.” “Well, I can’t say I do exactly,” said Joe; “but I know its a very mysterious matter.” “_What_ is such a mysterious matter?” asked Glenn, smiling. “Why, you—Miss Mary”—stammered Joe. “Well, what is there mysterious about us?” “Hang it, _you_ know!” replied Joe. “Pshaw!” repeated Glenn, striding out of the inclosure, and descending the path leading to Roughgrove’s house, whither he directed Joe to follow when he had galloped the horses. “Have you got any licker in the house?” asked Sneak, staring at the retreating form of Glenn. “No—its all gone. Why do you ask?” returned Joe. “Becaise that feller’s drunk,” said Sneak, with a peculiar nod. “No he ain’t—he hasn’t drunk a drop for a month.” “Then he’s going crazy, and you’d better keep a sharp look-out.” “I know what’s the matter with him—he’s in love!” said Joe. “Then why don’t he take her?” asked Sneak. “I don’t know,” replied Joe; “maybe he will, some day. Now for a ride—how are you, Pete?” he continued, opening the stable door and rubbing the pony’s head that was instantly thrust out in salutation. “I’ll ride the hoss,” said Sneak. “Will you? I’m glad of it,” said Joe, “for that’ll save me the trouble of leading him.” “That’s jest what I come for,” said Sneak, “becaise this hot morning the snakes are too thick to fight ’em on foot.” “Can you see many of them at a time?” “Well, I reckon you kin.” “Won’t they bite the horses?” “No, the hosses knows what a snake is as well as a man, and they’ll keep a bright eye for ’emselves, while we stave out their brains with our poles,” said Sneak. In a few minutes the companions were mounted, and with the fawn skipping in advance, and the hounds in the rear, they proceeded gayly out toward the prairie on a _snaking_ expedition. The sunlight was now intensely brilliant, and the atmosphere, though laden with the sweet perfume of the countless millions of wild flowers, began to assume a sultriness that soon caused the horses and hounds to loll out their tongues and pant as they bounded through the rank grass. Ere long the riders drew near a partially barren spot in the prairie, where from some singular cause the grass was not more than three inches high. This spot was circular, about fifty paces in diameter, and in the centre was a pool of bright water, some fifty feet in circumference. The grass growing round this spot was tall and luxuriant, and terminated as abruptly at the edge of the circle as if a mower had passed along with his sharp scythe. “Sneak, I never saw that before,” said Joe, as they approached, while yet some forty paces distant. “What does it mean?”