hundreds of thousands of others, just like the Little Villager, sitting
on their hillocks, or popping in and out of their round doorways, and
chattering and barking in shrill chorus under the pale blue dome of a
lovely sky. But on the hillock next door to the Little Villager sat no
garrulous, furry gossip like himself. That mound top was deserted.
But at its foot, curled up and basking in the still blaze of the sun,
close beside the doorway, lay a thick-bodied, dusty-colored rattler,
the intricate markings on his back dimmed as if by too much light and
heat. His venomous, triangular head, with the heavy jaw base that
showed great poison pockets, lay flat on his coils, and he had the
lazy, well-fed appearance of one who does not have to forage for his
meals. Here and there, scattered at wide intervals throughout the
village, were to be seen other rattlers, of all sizes, from foot-long
youngsters up to stout fellows over a yard in length, either basking in
the hollows or lazily wriggling their way between the hillocks. They
seemed to pay no attention whatever to the furry villagers; for a
rattler likes to make a huge meal when he's about it, and therefore
does not bother often about the, to him, rather laborious process of
dining. The villagers, on their part, also seemed to pay little
attention to the snakes; except that those who chanced to be foraging
on the coarse herbage which grew between the hillocks always got out of
the way with alacrity if a wriggling form approached, and not one of
the coiled baskers ever woke up and shifted its position but that a
hundred pairs of bright, innocent eyes would be fixed upon it until its
intentions became quite clear.

"The Little Villager, who had just come out of his burrow, sat straight
up on his hind-quarters, on the top of his hillock, with his forepaws
hanging meekly over his breast, and glared all about him to see if any
danger was in sight. The big rattler beside the door of the next