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It
was
a
human
voice
that
had
given
the
cue
--
or
rather
,
a
human
howl
,
such
as
could
proceed
only
from
the
throat
of
a
Galwegian
.
Phelim
O'Neal
was
the
originator
of
the
infernal
fracas
.
His
voice
,
however
,
was
soon
drowned
by
a
chorus
of
barkings
,
snortings
,
and
neighings
,
that
continued
without
interruption
for
a
period
of
several
minutes
.
"
What
is
it
?
"
demanded
his
master
,
as
he
leaped
from
the
catré
,
and
groped
his
way
towards
his
terrified
servitor
.
"
What
the
devil
has
got
into
you
,
Phelim
?
Have
you
seen
a
ghost
?
"
"
Oh
,
masther
!
--
by
Jaysus
!
worse
than
that
:
I
've
been
murdhered
by
a
snake
.
It
's
bit
me
all
over
the
body
.
Blessed
Saint
Pathrick
!
I
'm
a
poor
lost
sinner
!
I
'll
be
shure
to
die
!
"
"
Bitten
you
,
you
say
--
where
?
"
asked
Maurice
,
hastily
striking
a
light
,
and
proceeding
to
examine
the
skin
of
his
henchman
,
assisted
by
the
old
hunter
--
who
had
by
this
time
arrived
within
the
cabin
.
"
I
see
no
sign
of
bite
,
"
continued
the
mustanger
,
after
having
turned
Phelim
round
and
round
,
and
closely
scrutinised
his
epidermis
.
"
Ne'er
a
scratch
,
"
laconically
interpolated
Stump
.
"
Sowl
!
then
,
if
I
'm
not
bit
,
so
much
the
better
;
but
it
crawled
all
over
me
.
I
can
feel
it
now
,
as
cowld
as
charity
,
on
me
skin
.
"
"
Was
there
a
snake
at
all
?
"
demanded
Maurice
,
inclined
to
doubt
the
statement
of
his
follower
.
"
You
've
been
dreaming
of
one
,
Phelim
--
nothing
more
.
"
