"Get clubs, and make them as long as you can!" called out Owen. "Be
careful how you let her have a chance to reach you when she springs out.
A rattlesnake can sometimes strike as far as her own length, they say."

Immediately a scene of great excitement followed. Each fellow ran
around, trying to find a suitable stick, that would be stout enough to
do execution, and at the same time have sufficient length. For now that
they knew what its species was, the coiled serpent looked terribly ugly,
as, with head drawn back, she waited for another attack, all the while
sounding her rattle like a challenge to battle.

Steve happened to be the first to find a stick that he thought would do
the business, and he immediately rushed forward.

"Slow, now, Steve!" warned Max, fearful lest the natural headstrong
nature of the other might get him into trouble.

Just then Owen also picked up a long pole, and advanced from the
opposite side. The badgered snake, only intent on defending her young,
thinking that here was a chance to get away from all this turmoil, had
slipped out of coil, and even started to glide off; but as Steve made a
wild swoop with his pole, she again flung herself into coil, ready to
fight to the end.

Nobody spares a rattlesnake, however much they might wish to let an
innocent coachwhip or a common gartersnake get away. From away back to
the Garden of Eden times the heel of man has been raised against
venomous serpents. And somehow the close call their chum had just had
from a terrible danger, seemed to arouse the hostility of the chums