Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam. Fenn George Manville

Sree has exaggerated as to the reptile's length, and I shall be glad to get rid of such a neighbour."

      "It's not moving now," said Harry, in a whisper.

      "Yes, I can hear it," said Phra, whose ears were preternaturally sharp; "it's creeping towards where it can see the light shine through, and it will come out right on the roof."

      The little party hurried out to where Mike and the three Siamese were anxiously watching the hole in the corner of the verandah, the three latter armed with bamboo poles, and their long knives in their waist-folds, while Mike had furnished himself with a rusty old cavalry sword which he had bought in London, and brought with him because he thought it might some day prove to be useful.

      Their watching in the verandah came to an end on the appearance of the little party, and they were posted ready to rush in to the attack of the reptile if it should be shot and come wriggling down off the attap thatch.

      But for some minutes after the whole party had commenced their watching there was no sign of the escaped prize, not the faintest rustle or crackle of the crisp, sun-dried roof.

      Phra began to grow impatient at having to stand in the hot sun holding a heavy gun ready for firing, and Harry was little better, for the effort of watching in the dazzling glare affected his eyes.

      "Can't you send somebody inside to bang the ceiling with a stick, Mr.

      Kenyon?" said Phra at last.

      "Yes," said that gentleman. "This is getting rather weary work. Here, Mike, go indoors and listen till you hear the snake rustling over the ceiling of my room, and then thump loudly with a bamboo."

      "Yes, sir," said Mike promptly, and he took two steps towards the house, and then stopped and coughed.

      "Well, what is it?" said Mr. Kenyon.

      "I beg pardon, sir; but suppose the beast has taken fright at seeing you all waiting for him, and got into the house to hide."

      "Yes?" said Mr. Kenyon.

      "And is scrawming about all over the floor. What shall I do then?"

      "Don't lose a chance; hit it over the head or tail with all your might."

      Mike looked warmer than ever, and began to wipe the great drops of perspiration off his forehead.

      "Yes, sir," he said respectfully.

      "We must not stop to be nice now, for it seems to be hopeless to think of capturing the reptile again, and I can't have such a brute as that haunting the place."

      "No, sir, of course not," said Mike.

      "Well go on," said Mr. Kenyon sharply. "You are not afraid, are you?"

      "Oh no, sir, not a bit; but – "

      Mr. Kenyon shrugged his shoulders and strode into the house, while the two lads burst out laughing.

      "I say, Mike, you are a brave one!" cried Harry.

      "Now, look here," cried the man, "don't you go making the same mistake as the master. I'm not a bit afraid."

      "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Phra.

      "No, sir," said the man angrily; "not a bit afraid; but I've got a mother in England, and I don't like to be rash."

      "You never are, Mike."

      "No, sir, and I won't be. I'm sure every one ought to look before he leaps when it's over a dangerous place, and – Ah! look out; here he comes."

      There was a yell, too, from Sree and his two men, who dashed forward together, as all at once the great serpent seemed to dart suddenly from under a fold of the palm-leaf thatch, make an effort to glide along the slope from the neighbourhood of those who were waiting for it, and then failing from the steepness of the incline, rolled over and over, writhing and twining, towards the edge where the bamboo supports formed the pillars of the verandah.

      "Here, hi! stop!" roared the boys; but it was all in vain, for the excited Siamese men were deaf to everything save their own impulses, which prompted them to recover the escaped prize, and obtain their promised reward.

      "Here, I don't want to shoot one of them," cried Phra, stamping in his disappointment.

      "No, no, don't fire," cried Harry, throwing up his gun. "Here, hi, Mike! Now's your time; go and help. Lay hold of his tail, but don't be rash."

      For the serpent had rapidly reached the edge of the thatch and fallen into one of the flower beds with a heavy thud which proclaimed its weight. But the next minute that was a flower bed no longer.

      The serpent began the work of destruction by struggling violently as it drew itself up into a knot, and the three Siamese finished the work. They seemed to have not the slightest fear of the great glistening creature whose scales shone in the sun, but dashed at it to try and pinion it down to the ground.

      There was a furious hissing, mingled with loud shouts, panting, rustling, and the sound of heavy blows delivered on the earth and the bamboo flooring of the verandah, as the serpent freed its tail and lashed about furiously. Then there was a confused knot composed of reptile and men, rolling over, heaving and straining, and a gaily coloured sarong was thrown out, to fall a few yards away.

      "Can't you get a shot at it, boys?" cried Mr. Kenyon, as he rushed out.

      "Impossible, father."

      "Yes, impossible," repeated Mr. Kenyon.

      "What fun!" cried Phra excitedly. "They want to catch him alive. Look,

      Hal, look."

      Harry was doing nothing else, and forgetful of all his repugnance he approached so near the struggling knot that he had a narrow escape from a heavy flogging blow delivered by the serpent's tail, one which indented the soft earth with a furrow.

      "Ugh! you beast!" cried Harry, kicking at one of the reptile's folds, which just then offered itself temptingly; but before the boy's foot could reach it the fold was a yard away and the struggle going on more fiercely than ever.

      It was the fight of three stout, strong men against that elongated, tapering mass of bone and muscle, with fierce jaws at one end, a thick, whip-like portion at the other, and the men seemed to be comparatively helpless, being thrown here and there in spite of the brave way in which they clung to the writhing form. The end soon arrived, for the reptile made one tremendous effort to escape, wrenched itself free enough to throw a couple of folds of its tail round the thick bamboo pillar which supported the roof, took advantage of the purchase afforded, and threw off its three adversaries, to cling there with half its body undulating and quivering in the air, its head with its eyes glittering fiercely, and its forked tongue darting in and out, menacing its enemies and preparing to strike.

      The men were up again in an instant, ready to resume the attack, Sree giving his orders in their native tongue.

      "I'll get hold of his neck," he panted, "and you two catch his tail. Keep him tight to the bamboo, and I'll hold his head close up and ask the master to tie it to the upright."

      "Stand back, all of you!" cried Mr. Kenyon. "Now, boys, get into the verandah and fire outward. You have a fine chance."

      "No, no, Sahib," cried the hunter imploringly. "The snake is nearly tired out now, and in another minute we shall have caught it fast."

      "Nonsense," cried Mr. Kenyon; "it is far too strong for you. You are all hurt now."

      "A few scratches only, Sahib, and we could not bear to see so fine a snake, which the master would love to have, killed like that."

      "Thinking of reward, Sree?" said the merchant, smiling.

      Harry whispered something to Phra, who nodded.

      "Let them have another try, father," cried the boy. "Phra and I don't mind missing a shot apiece."

      "Very well," said Mr. Kenyon, and turning to the men – "Take it alive, then, if you can."

      From wearing a dull, heavy look of disappointment the faces of the Siamese were all smiles once more, and they prepared to rush in at their enemy on receiving a word from Sree, who now advanced with one of the bamboo poles he had picked up, and held out the end toward the quivering,