Away out in the desert lands,
below a sticky brush
A rattlesnake lay basking
in the morning’s glowing blush.
So sotted was the reptile
that he didn’t even hear
The thumping tread of something
red and tannish, coming near
Till something thumped him on the tail;
and angered, round he bent
Blindly biting deep and hard
till something’s flesh he rent.
The something thumped away in haste,
squealing when released,
Leaving that old snake to nurse
his throbbing tail in peace.

All that day the rattlesnake
lay painfully aware
That the snaky rattles on his tail
were now no longer there.
Sunshine finally drove him out
to find a shady tree
And he curled around a stony rock
in mournful reverie.
Snaky tears escaped his yellow
eyes, as still he lay
Hungering, but loath to drag
his broken self away.
Suddenly a leggy shadow
rose and hovered high,
And the rattlesnake rose up himself
to find the reason why.

Sitting upright on the rock,
a stranger eyed his stump,
Sniffing with his twitchy nose,
his back all strangely humped.
Leggy-long and reddish-tan
with jack-ie ears was he
But antelop-ie antlers graced his
forehead, don’t you see.
That rattlesnake had wandered in
the jackelope’s back yard
And the something that he rent, was that
jackelope’s best pard.
Now jackelopes ain’t mean, but
losing pals is hard to bear,
And Jackie thought a little recompense
was called for, there. 

“It looks as if you’re ailing,”
said he in a kindly way,
“Can I be of some assistance?
I’m a healer, so they say.
You’re used to meaty meals, I know,
but out here grow some plants
That will put the buzz back in your tail,
if given half a chance -
That is, if you can swear to me
that never did you bite
Any jackelop-ie flesh, then I’ll
help you out, all right.”
Well, half a chance was dandy-fine
with that old silly snake,
So he hunkered down to listen
as the Jack prepared his fate. 

“Yonder in the rancher’s vale
are shortish greenish plants,
With darkish greenish hanging fruit
that holds your only chance.
Slice the fruit quite carefully,
spitting out the juice,
And while the sun is setting, shake
the spicy peas all loose.  
Those peas are stronger medicine
than any that I know;
Eat ‘em fast and swallow hard,
then watch your poor tail grow.
Hustle now to do it,
for the sun is sinking fast;
If it sets before you get there –
well then all your hope is past.” 

He slithered down the hill and
underneath the rancher’s gate
To the shortish greenish plants with
greenish fruit he’d need to take.
Only time for one, he thought
as shadows ever stretched,
So he picked the biggest of the fruit,
trying not to retch.
Carefully he split it wide and
spit out all the juice,
And shook the thing till all the
tiny spicy peas fell loose.
The sun was dipping low, the last
of day was nearly done,
So without another thought that snake
devoured them, every one. 

“I did it!” thought the serpent,
with a sickly little slurp,
And then a little warmish belch
became a hottish burp.
Those spicy peas were coals, and they
became a glowing blaze
Burning up his insides till his
eyes saw only haze.
He shot out of the garden
wanting only fire to quench,
Streaking through the desert
to the waterhole he went.
Long and deep he drank,
then in abject misery,
He drank again and yet,
until he truly couldn’t see. 

In agony he lay, while the
burning turned to sweat
And his panting tongue lay forking
on the dirt he’d gotten wet.
Then slowly to his pounding ears
there came the measured sound
Of something thumping up to him,
prone there on the ground.
That jackelope smiled gently
as he said, “And now you know
Not to bite when something
hits the tail you didn’t show.
By the way, water’s not the thing
to cool those peas,
Peppers just get hotter,
though you drown them all you please!”