"I have not caught it yet. But I have set a snare in a track I know—and while you dig ants' eggs I have no doubt I can get one. That does not matter, however—I can get one some time. Will you cook it for me, if I show you the ants' nest?"
The Kar-ak-ar-ook promised, for the temptation of the ants' eggs was very strong. They ate all the kangaroo-rat, and found it quite too small for their appetites: so they went to sleep hungry, and were still hungrier when they awoke in the morning. They had only a few yams for breakfast, and so they were very eager to start when Waung sauntered up to their wurley.
They all went a little way into the Bush, and then came upon the great ant-hill. At the sight, the Kar-ak-ar-ook ran forward, with their sticks ready to dig.
Waung said:
"I will go on to my snare, and come back to you."
But he went slowly. The women had not taken any notice of what he said. They plunged their yam-sticks into the hill, and began throwing out the earth quickly. Then they uttered a loud scream, for the snakes came tumbling out of the loosened earth and ran this way and that, hissing fiercely—and some ran at them.
Waung turned back at their cries.
"Hit them with your sticks!" he shouted. "Kill them."
The Kar-ak-ar-ook hit furiously at the snakes with the pointed end of their yam-sticks. But a stiff, pointed stick is not much use for killing snakes, as Waung well knew, and he called to them roughly:
"That is no good—use the thick ends!"