“Impossible! I would not venture upon such an experiment except with a bitten subject.”
“Sorry to hear that, sir,” said Griggs thoughtfully. “Well, how would it be if I swallowed some?”
“I fear that it would be useless.”
“Very well, sir; you know best, and I must do without it. My boots will pull up a bit higher, and I’ll slip on another pair of trousers and my thick jersey over my jacket; then if one of the beauties bites, his teeth may not go through. There’ll only be my hands and face.”
“But what do you propose doing—running in, seizing the kegs, and trying to carry them out?”
“Nay, that makes the job too risky, sir. It would be just stirring the creatures up like bees in a hive, and they’d come raging out to fight. I’ve got a better plan than that.”
“Yes; what is it?” said the doctor, and Chris took a step nearer.
“Just this, sir. I’ll take a couple of the hide-ropes, knot them together, and coil them up lasso fashion. After that I’m going to make a fire and heat one of these iron tent-pegs red-hot—one of those with the eye to them. Soon as it’s well hot I’m going to bend it round into a hook, slip one end of the rope through the eye and make fast, and then I’m going to fish with that hook—throwing it in till it catches the keg chain that couples them together, and as soon as I’ve got a bite run out the line ready for a couple of us to haul the water right away clean from the snake’s nest. What do you say to that?”
“I say it isn’t fair,” cried Chris excitedly. “You, Ned, you are a sneak to go and tell him.”
“I didn’t tell him,” cried Ned indignantly.