120 
ORPHEUS AT THE ZOO 
In the next cages to these were some small boas, 
and Madame Paulus’s pythons, with which that lady 
used to perform in a tank at the Royal Aquarium. 
The pythons showed no signs of interest, except by 
a quickened respiration ; but a boa was at once 
attracted by the music. As it worked along the 
rounded rim of its circular bath in the direction of 
the sounds, it gave a beautiful exhibition of that 
snake-movement for which we have no name — 
neither crawling nor creeping, but gently enveloping 
portions of the surface on which it lay with its lower 
scales, and advancing noiselessly and almost im- 
perceptibly. Arrived at the side of the bath nearest 
to the door, it extended its head with a kind of 
tremulous motion until it obtained a view of the 
violin. It remained for some minutes motionless, 
with its eye fixed upon the instrument, until the 
music became loud and strident. Then, in sinuous 
folds, it dropped like some viscous fluid to the ground, 
and slowly advanced to the door, from which it was 
gently put back by its keeper. 
But the cobra is the snake to which all tradition 
points as most susceptible to musical sounds, and 
we prepared to watch its attitude towards the violin 
with no little excitement and curiosity. The accounts 
of Indian residents mainly agree in saying that the 
snake-charmer does influence these serpents by the 
monotonous notes of his little bagpipes ; that as soon 
as the sound is heard, the snake rises, spreads its 
hood, and often waves its head from side to side in 
