"Are you barefooted?" asked the convict in surprise.
"Yes."
"Then if you value your life, put on your boots again, and keep them on as long as you are in the mines. You are liable at any moment to step upon a poisonous snake; and if bitten, no power on earth can save you. The natives pretend to cure bites, but I have some doubts on the subject."
Smith spoke seriously, and as there might be much truth in what he said, Fred willingly complied, although he groaned with pain as he drew on his boots, and once more hobbled along beside the team.
"About three months ago, I was freighting a party up to the mines," said Smith, "and a youngster became foot-sore. He took off his boots, although I told him there was danger of treading upon snakes in the dark. He laughed at me; but before his mirth had ceased, he uttered a yell, and sprang wildly towards the team, which I had suffered to get a little in advance.
"When he started, I suspected the cause, and groping carefully about in the dust with my whip, soon discovered a small snake, not larger in circumference than my lash, but which I readily recognized as one of the most poisonous in the country. The natives call them capi-ni-els, or what signifies little devils. As the impudent scamp was hissing and darting out his tongue at me, I gave him a blow on the head, ground him into powder with the heel of my boot, and then passed on to overtake the team.
"It had got some distance from me; but before I reached it, my young passenger could no longer walk, and by the time I had checked the oxen, he had swollen to twice his usual size, and was lying panting by the side of the road, incapable of moving or speaking. I got a large quantity of brandy down his throat; but it had no effect, and in twenty minutes' time he was a dead man. We buried him where he fell, and I'll show you his grave when we reach it."
"I for one shall take good care to keep my boots on," I replied, after the convict had finished his story.
"Why do they frequent a road in preference to other parts?" asked Fred, who seemed to have almost forgotten his lameness, while listening to Smith's yarn.