o undergrowth. Nothing to relieve the eye save the darker
green of a few she-oaks which are sighing above the narrow, almost
waterless creek. Nineteen miles to the nearest sign of civilization--a
shanty on the main road.

The drover, an ex-squatter, is away with sheep. His wife and children
are left here alone.

Four ragged, dried-up-looking children are playing about the house.
Suddenly one of them yells: "Snake! Mother, here's a snake!"

The gaunt, sun-browned bushwoman dashes from the kitchen, snatches her
baby from the ground, holds it on her left hip, and reaches for a stick.

"Where is it?"

"Here! gone into the wood-heap!" yells the eldest boy--a sharp-faced
urchin of eleven. "Stop there, mother! I'll have him. Stand back! I'll
have the beggar!"

"Tommy, come here, or you'll be bit. Come here at once when I tell you,
you little wretch!"

The youngster comes reluctantly, carrying a stick bigger than himself.
Then he yells, triumphantly:

"There it goes--under the house!" and darts away with club uplifted.
At the same time the big, black, yellow-eyed dog-of-all-breeds, who
has shown the wildest interest in the proceedings, breaks his chain
and rushes after that snake. He is a moment late, however, and his nose
reaches the crack in the slabs just as the end of its tail disappears.
Almost at the same moment the boy's club comes down and skins the
aforesaid nose. Alligator takes small notice of this, and proceeds to
undermine the building; but he is subdued after a struggle and chained
up. They cannot afford to lose him.

The drover's wife makes the children stand together near the dog-house
while she watches for the snake. She gets two small dishes of milk and
sets them down near the wall to tempt it to come out; but an hour goes
by and it does not show itself.

It is near sunset, and a thunderstorm is coming. The children must be
brought inside. She will not take them into the house, for she knows
the snake is there, and may at any moment come up through a crack in the
rough slab floor; so she carries several armfuls of firewood into
the kitchen, and then takes the children there. The kitchen has no
floor--or, rather, an earthen one--called a "ground floor" in this part
of the bush. There is a large, roughly-made table in the centre of the
place. She brings the children in, and makes them get on this table.
They are two boys and two girls--mere babies. She gives them some
supper, and then, before it get