“Never.”
“Sure it was a water-snake, Dan?”
“Yes. I’ve seen the time early in the month when a fellow walking along the shore of Six Town Pond would stir up hundreds of these fellows—little chaps a good many of them. The last time I was here—and that is more than a year ago—I saw a lively fight between a water-snake and a brown thrush.”
“Which won? What were they fighting about?”
“I don’t know, though I suspect that the snake had been robbing the thrush’s nest. Probably had stolen the eggs or had swallowed the young ones. The old bird was screaming and flying at the snake’s eyes and head, while his snakeship was doing his best to get back to the water. He’d crawl a few feet as lively as he could go and then he’d have to stop and defend himself when the thrush would get in some fine work. It was a lively tilt, let me tell you.”
“Did the snake get away?”
“Yes; though I’m sure he had a headache.”
“We’ll come back and get this fellow!” said Walter eagerly. “Why can’t we come to-morrow?”
“Because we’re both to play ball.”