Judy poked a stick into the centre of the fire. For a moment it seemed
to die down, then suddenly the big black pan seemed held aloft by a
solid cone of yellow flame.

The grease in the pan snapped, and little burnt bits of corn-meal flew
in all directions.

"Now they are cooking all right," and Judy shielded her face with her
hand, as she held the long handle and watched complacently.

Suddenly Launcelot dropped the coffee-pot.

"Take them off, take them off," he cried.

Judy, with her fork upraised, stared at him as if petrified.

"Why?" she stammered.

He snatched the pan from the fire.

"They're burning," he cried, and turned the fish up one by one.

They were as black as coals down to the very tips of their crisp little
tails!




CHAPTER VI