After we had eaten (I had only consumed a few bites of the greasy food), I called Larry over and told him that he was not as macho as he put on. I told him that I had a rattlesnake of significant length in the truck, and I would bring it in just to prove he was a wimp. I could see by his reaction that he didn’t believe me at all, and probably viewed this as an opportunity to have more fun at my expense. Therefore, Larry gave his approval to the proposition and I hastily went out to the truck. When I re-entered the café, I had the feeling I was in the old west. I had just entered through the swinging batwing doors and had called Larry’s name. I was armed with a powerful weapon in a red sack. Again, all eyes were on me as Larry made his approach from the kitchen area. I asked him again if he really wanted me to do this, and he halfheartedly nodded his approval. I untied the knot in the sack slowly, allowing Larry ample time to make his way over to where I stood just inside the doorway. I then gently dumped the four foot long Mojave Rattlesnake onto the floor. It immediately commenced rattling loudly. The ranchers, who had been craning their necks to get a good view of the proceedings, now observed a large, live rattler, already warm and trying to get traction on a smooth, slippery floor, and moving like a bat out of hell. Snake Hunting on the Devil’s Highway; Humorous Tales From the Glory Days of Snake Hunting Excerpt from Chapter One: “The Sunizona Café” Available everywhere in paperback. Amazon has ebooks. Author contact: starrandwyatt@hotmail
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 05:13:17 +0000
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