THE STRICKEN PYTHON. 143 



Such, indeed, proved to be the case. There was un- 

 doubtedly a second monster in the den, and almost as large 

 a one as the first. As the snake on our side now thrust 

 out its head several feet, and was swaying it to and fro as 

 if it meditated bolting (not my carcass, by any means, but 

 its own) from its lair, I retreated a few paces and planted a 

 charge of buckshot in it, about two feet behind the head. 

 This at once doubled it up, literally, without much damag- 

 ing its coat. 



The scrimmage in the den, a portion of the interior of 

 which we could now see tolerably plainly, was tremendous, 

 as the huge coils of the stricken python, in its death-struggles, 

 became entangled, as it were, with those of its living com- 

 panion. The latter, however, showed a decided disinclina- 

 tion to quit its dwelling, where it remained screwing itself 

 about, seemingly in a great state of alarm, and seeking safety 

 from danger, like the " ostrich of the sandy desert," by at- 

 tempting to hide its head. After just securing such a fine 

 specimen of the serpent family, killing this apparently harm- 

 less member of it also would have been wanton butchery. 



When the violent contortions of the dying monster had 

 somewhat subsided, we hauled it out and hoisted it on to 

 the elephant, not, however, without some trouble from its 

 enormous weight, and the excessive slipperiness of its smooth 

 skin. We left the remaining python in undisputed posses- 

 sion of its now lonely abode, from which it still seemed loath 

 to depart. A Goorkha, when out with his gun a day or two 

 after, came across it in the jungle not far from its old haunt, 

 and being unaware of my merciful intentions towards the 

 creature, shot it and brought it to me as a grand trophy. 



I have already given the dimensions of the large one as it 

 lay unstretched. It was beautifully and brightly marked 

 with yellow and black. It is now a cleverly executed 

 specimen of taxidermy by the late H. Ward of Vere Street, 

 and forms a prominent if not a very elegant addition to my 

 small collection of shikar trophies. 



