But the problem of life cast no shadow on the Jolly Rovers, and they paddled on contentedly, finding something new to admire every few minutes.
Nugget was more than usually happy that morning. The past few days had taught him the bright side of canoeing, and he fondly hoped to find the future just as smooth and free from snags.
He was dipping his paddle from side to side in a leisurely way when his eyes chanced to rest on the bottom of the cockpit. Right between his knees was a flat little head with two bead-like eyes and a red tongue that darted quickly in and out. Attached to the head was a long gracefully coiled body, mottled like the skin of a brook trout.
The yell that burst from Nugget's lips would have done credit to a Sioux warrior. It scared the snake half out of its wits, and the reptile wriggled under the bottom board.
"Help! Murder! Snakes!" roared Nugget, partly rising and clutching the combing with both hands. "Help me, help me! I'll be bitten. I'll die."
"Where is it?" cried Ned, paddling alongside.
"Stamp on it," shouted Randy. "Throw it out and I'll shoot it."
Nugget only yelled the more and shook the canoe so violently by his antics that it threatened to tip over.
"Be careful," Ned warned him. "You will upset. Paddle to shore and we'll take the snake out for you."
"I can't, I can't," shrieked Nugget. "My paddle fell overboard. There it goes."