One of the things that we learned in Army basic training was how to pull guard duty. The sequence of apprehending an intruder went something like this: ask person for the password, if person flees yell "Halt!", if person doesn't halt then yell "Halt or I'll shoot!", if the person continues to run, banking either on the hope that your M-16 isn't loaded with live ammo or you are a really poor shot, then you can go ahead and shoot him, preferably in the non-vitals. I, fortunately, didn't encounter any bad guys on my duty.

I was reminded this week of nature's warning signals that we need to heed before it kills us.

Thunder gets louder as deadly lightning approaches. Red sky in the morning means sailors should take warning. Green sky under a thunderstorm usually means hail. Sun dogs in the winter can mean snow in the near future.

A couple days ago I helped my friend, Carl, survey a new fence line in the rugged, shark-tooth hills south of Broken Bow. It was one of those perfect autumn mornings that begins crisp, but soon has you peeling off jackets. The air was so calm that our voices carried a quarter mile across the canyons as we used the transit to set marking flags. When Carl reached the far end I hiked to the top of a nearby hill to get a panoramic view of central Custer county. I was amazed at the distance that I could see.

Back at the side-by-side vehicle Carl asked me if I wanted to see some area sights. I said "Sure!" I tossed my snake stick away and jumped in for a ride. He took me though wooded canyons and over passes where elk and bison used to roam. I could almost imagine the spots where Pawnee would ambush their winter provisions.

The last spot that we visited was a hill with an old surveyor's benchmark on the peak. This was one of the highest elevations in the area, located on the divide between the Muddy Creek watershed and the South Loup. We spotted a steel post on the peak and took off on foot to investigate. I managed to beat Carl to the top and headed directly for the survey marker which I spied hiding beneath a yucca plant. Anxious to read the brass plate, I started to spread the yucca needles, only to hear a distinct buzzing. The next three or four seconds were a blur as I somehow levitated back past Carl and landed ten paces behind him. From that vantage I could see the coiled rattlesnake behind the yucca. His tongue was darting in and out and his rattle was pointed straight in the air.

After a minute it occurred to me that I should breathe. I hate snakes. This one gave a fair warning though-- before he killed me.