yonder shore and cut some cedar boughs. We can set them on fire and each take one. Snakes hate fire, and they'll be sure to crawl away if we advance with the burning boughs close to the ground."
The suggestion was deemed an excellent one, and they lost no time in carrying it out. They got the driest cedar branches possible and set them into a blaze with little trouble. Then they went ashore with caution, advancing in a semi-circle on the places they thought the snakes must be.
To their amazement not a reptile was in sight!
"Did you ever see the like?" ejaculated Whopper. "Is this true, or am I dreaming?"
"I know what has happened," said Snap. "The snakes have simply gone back to their nest."
"Well, leave them there by all means!" interposed the doctor's son. "I wouldn't disturb their nap for the world."
With caution they moved around the camp, and lifted up the ends of the tent, and raised their cooking utensils.
"Who wants to stay here for breakfast?" asked Snap, dryly. "Don't all speak at once."
"Thanks, but I've engaged a place about a mile from here," answered Whopper. "You can stay if you wish—I'll move on."
