the slightest sound would send it gliding rapidly out of sight.

We approached then in the most stealthy way, Morgan holding his fork the while as if it were a gun, and we were advancing upon the enemy.

Low growth had sprung apace about the clearing, so that we could not get a sight of the spot till we were close by, when Morgan softly parted the bush-like growth, peered out, drew back, and signed to me to advance, moving aside the while, so that I could pass him, and peer out in turn.

I was not long in availing myself of the opportunity; and there, not a dozen feet from me, lay twisted about, something like a double S, a large specimen of the serpent I had so often heard about; and a curious shrinking sensation came over me, as I noticed its broad flat head, shaped something like an old-fashioned pointed shovel, with the neck quite small behind, but rapidly increasing till the reptile was fully, as Morgan said, thick as his wrist; and then slowly tapering away for a time before rapidly running down to where I could see five curious-looking rings at the end of the dull grey tail.

“A rattlesnake,” I said to myself, as with a kind of fascination I eagerly looked at the line which marked the gaping mouth showing plainly in an ugly smile; then at the dull creamy-brown and grey markings, and the scales which covered the skin, here and there looking worn and crumpled, and as if it was a trifle too big for the creature that wore it as if it were a shirt of mail.

I should have stood there staring at the repellent-looking creature for long enough, had not Morgan softly drawn me back, and then led the way round to our left, so that we could have the sun behind us, and approach the dangerous reptile without having to rustle through the bushes close at hand.

“Mind you keep back, my lad, till I’ve got him safe,” whispered Morgan, “then hit him hard.”

“Is it as dangerous as they say?” I asked.

“Worse, look you; that’s why I want to pin him first. I might hit him a good crack, but snakes are hard to kill, and he might throw his head about and bite even then, though I arn’t quite sure even now that they don’t sting with their tails.”

“I’m sure they don’t,” I whispered back.

“Ah, that’s all very well, Master George, but I don’t see as you can know much better than me. Anyhow, I’m going to risk it; so here goes, and when I say ‘now,’ bring down that rake-handle as big a whop as you can with both hands, right on his back.”

I nodded, and we stood out now on the barren, stony patch close to the fir-trees, with the sun casting our shadows in a curious dumpy way on the earth, and our enemy about thirty feet away.

Morgan signed to me to stand still, and I obeyed trembling with excitement, and eagerly watching as he cautiously approached with his pole extended before him, ready to make a dart at the snake, whose head lay half turned for him, and its neck temptingly exposed, ready for the fork which should hold it down.

On went Morgan, inch by inch, his shadow just before him, and in spite of his injunction, I could not refrain from following, so as to get a good view of the encounter; and besides, I argued with myself, how could I be ready to help unless I was close at hand?

Consequently I stepped on nearer too, till I could see the reptile quite clearly, distinguishing every scale and noting the dull, fixed look of its eyes, which did not seem to be closed, for I was not familiar then with the organisation of snakes.

As Morgan went on the stillness of the clearing seemed terrible, and once more I could not help thinking of what a treacherous act it was to steal upon the creature like that in its sleep.

But directly after, the killing instinct toward a dangerous enemy grew strong within me, and I drew in my breath, my teeth were set fast, and my fingers tightened about the rake-handle, ready to deliver a blow.

All this took very few minutes, but it seemed to me to last a long time, and thought after thought ran through my mind, each one suggestive of danger.

“Suppose Morgan misses it,” I said to myself; “it will be frightened and vicious, and strike at him, and if he is bitten I shall be obliged to attack it then, and I shall not have such a chance as he has, for the head will be darting about in all directions.”

Then I began to wish I had gone first, and hit at it as it lay, with all my might.

Too late now, I knew; and as I saw in imagination Morgan lying helpless there, and myself striking hard at the snake, never taking into consideration the fact that after a deadly stroke the animal would rapidly try to escape, and glide away.

Morgan was now so near that I saw the shadow of his head begin to creep over the snake, and it loomed so black and heavy that I wondered why the reptile did not feel it and wake up.

Then I stood fast as if turned to stone, as I watched my companion softly extend the pole he carried, with the fork nearer and nearer the creature’s neck, to remain perfectly motionless for a moment or two. There was a darting motion, and Morgan stood pressing the staff down as the serpent leaped into life, writhing, twining, and snapping its body in waves which ran from head to the tail which quivered in the air, sending forth a peculiar low, dull, rattling noise, and seeming to seek for something about which to curl.

“I’ve got him, Master George. Come along now; it’s your turn.”

I sprang forward to see that the evil-looking head was held down close to the ground, and that the jaws were gaping, and the eyes bright with a vindictive light, literally glittering in the sun.

“Can you hold him?” I said, hoarsely.

“Oh, yes; I’ve got him pretty tight. My! See that? He is strong.”

For at that moment the snake’s tail struck him, and twined about his left leg; untwined, and seemed to flog at him, quivering in the air the while, but only after writhing horribly, twisting round the pole which pressed it down, and forming itself into a curious moving knot.

“I can’t hit at it now,” I said, hoarsely; “it will strike away the pole.”

“Yes; don’t hit yet. Wait a bit till he untwissens himself; then give it him sharp, look you.”

“You won’t let it go?” I said.

“Not a bit of it, my lad. Too fond of Morgan Johns to let him stick his fangs into me. Now you’ve got a chance. No, you haven’t; he’s twisted up tighter than ever. Never mind, wait a bit; there’s no hurry.”

“But you are torturing it so,” I cried.

“Can’t help it, Master George. If I didn’t, he’d torture me and you too. Well, he does twissen about. Welsh eel’s nothing to him.”

For the snake in its rage and pain kept twining about the pole, treating that as the cause of all its suffering. Morgan stood there full of excitement, but though longing to deliver a blow that should paralyse if it did not kill our enemy, I could not get the slightest chance.

“Ah, we ought to have had a cut at him before he twined about my pole,” said Morgan, after this had been going on for some minutes; “but it wasn’t your fault; there wasn’t time.”

“No,” I said, gloomily, “there was no time. Now then, hold tight.”

I made a rapid stroke at the long, lithe body which suddenly untwisted to its full length, but my rake-handle only struck the ground, for the serpent was quicker than I, and it threw itself once more in a series of quivering folds about Morgan’s pole.

“Well, he is strong,” cried the latter. “But I have it. I’m getting a bit ’fraid he’ll work quite a hole, and get out, and I’m not at all sure that the nails arn’t giving. Look here, Master George; put your hand in my pocket, and pull out and open my big knife ready for me. Then you shall hold the pole, and I’ll go down and try and cut his head off.”

“But will that be safe?” I said. “Hadn’t we better leave go and run away?”

“What,