Crisis On Doona by Anne McCaffrey, Jody Lynn Nye

a breather as they assessed the best vantage points before the swarm arrived.
    Todd and Hrriss decided that they’d best guard the narrow path between the two barns that lay between the snakes and their prey. Bottling them up in that space would make them easier to turn, with some scud bombs to halt them and give the ones behind pause. The older and bigger snakes were smart enough to sense the danger of such tight quarters and turn back to look for easier pickings in the marshes.
    Wayne and his family flanked the edges of the buildings, concentrating on the reptiles who would avoid the main route and try to slip around. Still watching the way the wind blew, Kelly realized that the wind carrying the pigs’ scent was blowing directly toward the worn pathway, and not back into the main mass of reptiles. If the wind shifted, they’d be surrounded in minutes. And goodbye, Boncyk Bacon.
    The defiant screams of the team’s horses echoed off the high walls to either side of them. The slower-moving snakes were nearly there. Kelly had never noticed before what a terrifying sound their bellies made, slithering on the dry grass. Oh, a single snake could be silent when it was sneaking up on its prey, but dozens and hundreds of them made the grass hiss beneath them.
    “Don’t worry about tiddlers,” Todd cried. “It’s the big ones that we need to turn back. They can swallow a sow whole.”
    “Here! I need help here!” Anne Boncyk shouted from behind the grain barn. She galloped into sight, waving an empty crossbow. “There’s a mess of them sneaking around the barn!” Kelly swiveled her head. Two of the infiltrators were lying contentedly in the gravel, engulfing the bodies of their deceased comrades without a care for the crossbow quarrels sticking straight up, but half a dozen others were making straight for the farrowing pens.
    With a sharp command, Hrriss sent his ocelots to Anne’s rescue. Gathering their haunches, the spotted cats pounced onto the back of the two largest reptiles, four meters long, and dragged them thrashing like severed air hoses out of the pens. With a quick bite behind the flat heads, the cats dispatched their prey and went for two more. The respite gave Anne time to reload both her crossbows.
    A young reptile, only about three meters long, whipped between the team’s horses. Three spears jabbed for it all at once, but all missed their mark.
    “Damn!” groaned Don, and shouted over his shoulder, “Anne, a three-meter coming through!”
    “No, I’ll take it!” Jilamey said. “I gotta get two.” He wheeled his horse about and pursued the young snake.
    Rolling his eyes at such bravado, Todd gestured for Kelly to follow Landreau. If the boy had been sent to embarrass Doona by getting killed in the Snake Hunt, Todd was determined the plan would fail. Jilamey had managed the first catch, somehow, but anything could happen here, with snakes all too close to valuable stock.
    At first, the snake was too intent on catching its meal to realize it was being pursued. Jilamey drew his miniature gun and shot at its back. He hit it square, but the low-caliber slug just bounced off the scaly hide. But the snake felt the impact and turned to see what had hit it. Seeing Jilamey bearing down, it slowed a trifle.
    Encouraged, Jilamey galloped at it, trusty quarterstaff poised above his head. “Yeee-hah!” he yelled, bringing the long stick down on the snake. It was a good, solid hit. The snake stopped dead and compressed itself into a hurt knot. Jilamey had learned a lesson during his previous misadventure. Before the snake could get a coil about the staff, he discarded it and reached for the crossbow.
    He never got a chance to use it. The snake sprang around the horse’s leg, lashing out with its tail to encircle a hind leg and bring the animal, and rider, down. The horse, instinctively lashing out behind, then reared and stumbled, falling across a young Mommy Snake which had broken through the cordon. The