“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. You can’t think of what agony it will be. They must have half-an-hour, and it will seem like a week. You take my advice, sir. I’m sure it’s right.”
“Very well,” said Jack, and they kept on going to and fro, breaking enough to keep on feeding the fire, and trying hard not to think about what was cooking, as they still piled on the twigs and branches of dead wood, Ned busying himself in breaking them up, far more than was necessary in his desperate determination not to be tempted to draw out a single tuber before they were done.
“I know what ’taters are, sir,” he said between his teeth, “and as bad as can be really raw, but the gloriousest things as ever were for a hungry man when he has got nothing else. But what a pity it is! If we’d had our guns we could soon have brought down a skewerful or two of those green and scarlet parrots to roast, and— Oh, don’t talk about it. Makes my mouth water horribly.”
“Think they’re done now, Ned?” said Jack, after three or four journeys to and fro.
“No, sir, nor yet half. The sand underneath has to get hot. I tell you what, we’ll dig up some more and put them in the hot ashes after these are done, to cook and take away with us. They’ll do all right while we’re eating our dinner.”
“Very well,” said Jack, as he tried hard to curb his impatience, “but it’s terrible, this waiting.”
“Try not to think about it, please, sir. There, let’s make up the fire once more, and then go and dig.”
The wood was fetched and thrown on, both standing a little back afterward, and having a hard struggle to keep from raking out two or three of the potatoes to try if they were done, but they mastered themselves bravely, and hurried to the spot where they had dug before, to find it taken possession of by a larger and thicker snake than the one that had been killed. It was coiled up on the dry sand which they had cleared of leaves, and rose up menacingly at their approach.
“What shall we do—go somewhere else?” said Jack.
“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?”