But the dog did not move. He even growled—not at Miss Amanda, of course, but at something on the log. And it was just then that Carolyn May wanted to scream—and she could not! For there on the log, raising its flat, wicked head out of an aperture, its lidless eyes glittering, and its forked tongue shooting in and out of its jaws, was a snake, a horrid, silent, writhing creature, the look of which held the little girl horror-stricken and speechless. Uncle Joe glanced down impatiently, to see what made her hold back so. The child’s feet seemed glued to the earth. She could not take another step. Writhing out of the hole in the log and coiling, as it did so, into an attitude to strike, the snake looked to be dangerous, indeed. The fact that it was only a large blacksnake and non-poisonous made no difference at that moment to the dog or to the little girl—nor to Joseph Stagg when he saw it. It was coiled right at Miss Amanda’s back. She did not see it, for she was quite as intent upon keeping her face turned from Mr. Stagg as he had been determined to ignore her presence. After all, it is the appearance of a snake that terrifies some people. They do not stop to question whether it is furnished with a poison sac or not. The very look of the creature freezes their blood. Carolyn May was shaking and helpless. Not so Prince. He repeated his challenging growl and then sprang at the vibrating head. Miss Amanda uttered a stifled scream and jumped up from the log, whirling to see what was happening behind her. Joseph Stagg dropped Carolyn May’s hand and leaped forward with his walking-stick raised to strike. But the mongrel dog was there first. He wisely caught the blacksnake behind the head, his strong, sharp teeth severing its vertebræ. “Good dog!” shouted Mr. Stagg excitedly. “Fine dog!” “Oh, Miss Amanda!” shrieked Carolyn May. “I—I thought he was going to sting you—I did!” She ran to the startled woman and clung to her hand. Prince nosed the dead snake. Mr. Stagg looked exceedingly foolish. Miss Amanda recovered her colour and her voice simultaneously. “What a brave dog yours is, little girl,” she said to Carolyn May. “And I do so despise snakes!” Then she looked directly at Mr. Stagg and bowed gravely. “I thank you,” she said, but so coldly, so Carolyn May thought, that her voice might have come “just off an iceberg.” “Oh, I didn’t do anything—really I didn’t,” stammered the man. “It was the dog.” “Oh!” said Miss Amanda. “Yes,” repeated Mr. Stagg, “it was the dog.” Both looked very uncomfortable. Joseph Stagg began to pick up the scattered chestnuts from the overturned basket. The lady stooped and whispered to Carolyn May: “Come to see me, my dear. I want to know you better.” “And Prince?” asked the little girl. “And Prince, of course.” Then she kissed Carolyn May and slipped quietly away from the brook, disappearing very quickly in the undergrowth. Uncle Joe stood up, with the basket in his hand.