"No, sir, that we won't," cried Ned fiercely. "If that long eely thing chooses to play dog in the manger over the potatoes, it must take the consequences. I'll soon finish him. Think he's poisonous?" "I feel sure of it, Ned," said Jack anxiously. "Look at the swollen poison glands." "That settles it. Seems to me like a duty to kill poisonous things. I know what it is to be poisoned, sir." He gave his shoulder a twist, and advanced toward the serpent with his spear-handle ready. "You keep back, sir, and let me have room to swing my spear round." "No; I want to kill this one, Ned." "Better not, sir. It's risky. You might miss." "You be ready to strike him if I do." "Very well then, sir; only be careful. A good swish round will do it, but snakes are quick as lightning, and we've had trouble enough without you getting bitten." The snake rose higher, and prepared to strike as Jack advanced, holding his spear in both hands, and waiting his opportunity, he brought it round with all his force, but the end passed, through his miscalculation of the distance, a couple of inches short of the reptile's head, and before the lad could recover himself to make another blow, the creature struck back, and would have fastened upon him but for Ned's quick interposition of his own spear-handle, against which the serpent struck instead. The next moment Ned struck again, full on the creature's back, and it was helpless now for attack, writhing in amongst the growth till Jack obtained another fine cut at it, and the battle was at an end. Ned picked it, up upon the end of his spear. "They say that things are good if roasted, sir. What do you say--shall we cook him?" "Ugh! No. Throw the horrible thing away." "Yes, sir; off it goes. One wants another day's starving to eat roast snake." He sent the nearly dead creature whirling through the air with a sudden jerk of his spear-handle, and then turned to Jack. "Now, sir," he said, "as quick as you can, and then--" He did not finish his sentence, but threw himself upon his knees again. Jack followed his example, and for about ten minutes they busied themselves getting another load, and then ran to the fireside and emptied all they had into a heap. "Now then," cried Ned; "but be careful, sir; they'll be horribly hot." Jack said nothing, but looked on while his companion thrust the still burning wood aside with his spear, then swept off the thick bed of glowing embers, and lastly the hot sand, before turning the potatoes out into a heap on the other side, and spreading them to cool. "Let 'em be, sir, till we've charged the oven again," cried Ned, and the fight now was harder than ever as they began to throw the fresh batch into the hot pit. But it was done, and the sand swept over them. The glowing embers followed, the wood was piled on, to begin crackling and blazing, and then, and then only, did they fall to.