Before we reached the Deams' I wished that we had carried them as
mother told us, for we had lost three, and if we stopped to hunt
them, more would hide. By the time we drove them under the
floodgate crossing the creek between our land and the Deams' four
were gone. Leon left me on the gate with both switches to keep
them from going back and he ran to call Mrs. Deam. She had red
hair and a hot temper, and we were not very anxious to see her,
but we had to do it. While Leon was gone I was thinking pretty
fast and I knew exactly how things would happen. First time
mother saw Mrs. Deam she would ask her if the ducks were all
right, and she would tell that four were gone. Mother would ask
how many she had, and she would say twelve, then mother would
remember that she started us with twelve in the basket--Oh what's
the use! Something had to be done. It had to be done quickly
too, for I could hear Amanda Deam, her boy Sammy and Leon coming
across the barnyard. I looked around in despair, but when things
are the very worst, there is almost always some way out.

On the dry straw worked between and pushing against the panels of
the floodgate, not far from me, I saw a big black water snake. I
took one good look at it: no coppery head, no geometry patterns,
no rattlebox, so I knew it wasn't poisonous and wouldn't bite
until it was hurt, and if it did, all you had to do was to suck
the place, and it wouldn't amount to more than two little pricks
as if pins had stuck you; but a big snake was a good excuse. I
rolled from the floodgate among the ducks, and cried, "Snake!"
They scattered everywhere. The snake lazily uncoiled and slid
across the straw so slowly that--thank goodness! Amanda Deam got
a fair look at it. She immediately began to jump up and down and