The Elusive Snake

The Elusive Snake

The greatest thing about the American west is every mile you go, it seems like you are in a new world.  I was walking down a path in a deserted sheep camp, a few miles off a Navajo reservation, and while I stopped to peer at the massive mesa in front of me, pondering if I had what it took to scale those walls, I heard a soft rattle.  It startled me, so I ran behind a bush.  The closest hospital was at least twenty miles away, and I was out there alone.  I could not afford a rattlesnake bite.  I did not hear the rattle anymore.  It was gone, I thought I had run away from it.  I walked down the path again, farther down from where I had heard the rattle.  After about three steps, I heard it again, but this time distinctly louder. 

The first thing that came to my head was, “Where the hell is this snake!”

I began to walk backwards, but the sound got louder.  So I walked forwards again, yet the sound still got louder.  I ran to another bush off the side of the path.  I could still hear the rattle, but it was faint and dying.  I waited there hesitantly, maybe an hour, maybe two.  When you are alone in nature, duration of time loses its relevance.  I began walking on the path again, but slowly.  I walked slowly for at least half a mile.  I kept looking back, secretly checking if the snake was following me.  I did not see anything.  I kept walking.  And then I heard it, and it was louder than ever.  I began a sprint off the path.  I kept running till I collapsed.  While catching my breath,  I lied down.  I was losing energy.  There were no longer mesas around me, it was desert.  I don’t know where I had gone, I could not see the path anymore.  At least I was away from that damn snake.  I had a pouch with me.  I did not foresee any delays, so I only packed a small bottle of water and some nuts.  It was getting dark out.  I began to worry.  I had to find my way back to the path.  So I walked towards the sun, It was setting, and I was generally heading west.  I hoped I would come across the path as I walked, but I was not that fortunate.  I was getting thirsty, my water was almost out.  I was not paying attention to where I was going, and I tripped over a small stone.  I braced myself for the fall, but was unsuccessful in preventing my right shoulder from hitting a prickly pear cactus.  I got up and brushed myself off.  I looked at my shoulder, it was bleeding slightly, nothing too bad though.  I took another step and I heard it again.  It probably was the most terrifying and gruesomely awful sound I had ever heard.  I blacked out.   When I came too, I found myself staring at the eyes of a saddled horse.  I looked at my shoulder.  It was as if nothing had happened to it.  I stretched for my pouch.  There were two full canteens of water, and about three days worth of food.  As I stood up I noticed I was not in the desert.  I was standing at the edge of a riverbed.  Suddenly, the rattling came again.  I quickly spun around. 

            All of a sudden I was back in the desert.  I looked at my shoulder, it was all banged up.  I looked in my pouch.  Just a near empty bottle of water and an empty sack of nuts.  I looked down.  And there it was.  The damn creature was pointing its tongue at me.  I looked at it intently, almost warning it not to rattle.  It did not heed my warning.  I lunged to grab it.  I had had enough.  I closed my eyes and reached out.  Nothing.  I felt nothing.  I opened my eyes and looked down.  There was nothing there.  I blacked out again.  When I woke up, I could hear the sound of a faint rattle.