"George A. Stewart - Earth Abides" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stewart George A)

*Keep tuned to this Station, which is the only one now in operation in
northern California. We shall inform you of developments, as long as it is
possible.*

Just as he pulled himself up to the rock-ledge, he heard a sudden rattle,
and felt a prick of fangs. Automatically he jerked back his right hand;
turning his head, he saw the snake, coiled and menacing. It was not a large
one, he noted, even at the moment when he raised his hand to his lips and
sucked hard at the base of the index-finger, where a little drop of blood
was oozing out.

*"Don't waste time by killing the snake!"* he remembered.

He slid down from the ledge, still sucking. At the bottom he saw the hammer
lying where he had left it. For a moment he thought he would go on and
leave it there. That seemed like panic; so he stooped and picked it up with
his left hand, and went on down the rough trail.

He did not hurry. He knew better than that. Hurry only speeded up a man's
heart, and made the venom circulate faster. Yet his heart was pounding so
rapidly from excitement or fear that hurrying or not hurrying, it seemed,
should make no difference. After he had come to some trees, he took his
handkerchief and bound it around his right wrist. With the aid of a twig he
twisted the handkerchief into a crude tourniquet.

Walking on, he felt himself recovering from his panic. His heart was
slowing down. As he considered the situation, he was not greatly afraid. He
was a young man, vigorous and healthy. Such a bite would hardly be fatal,
even though he was by himself and without good means of treatment.

Now he saw the cabin ahead of him. His hand felt stiff. Just before he got
to the cabin, he stopped and loosened the tourniquet, as he had read should
be done, and let the blood circulate in the hand. Then he tightened it
again.



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He pushed open the door, dropping the hammer on the floor as he did so. It
fell, handle up, on its heavy head, rocked back and forth for a moment, and
then stood still, handle in the air.

He looked into the drawer of the table, and found his snake-bite outfit,
which he should have been carrying with him on this day of a days. Quickly
he followed the directions, slicing with the razor-blade a neat little
criss-cross over the mark of the fangs, applying the rubber suction-pump.
Then he lay on his bunk watching the rubber bulb slowly expand, as it
sucked the blood out.