hatever his
length, every short hair of him, and none of the swarms of buzzing
flies around seemed anxious to settle upon him.

He picked his way across to the shade of the trees, slouching quite
casually, apparently; though how he avoided treading upon any of the
sudden deaths variously thrown about seems a mystery. And just short
of the shade of the trees he stopped. He had spotted, or scented--the
latter is most likely, for the smell beat a chemical-works, a
slaughter-house, and a whaleship rolled into one--the big snake.

The big snake remained motionless, and made no sign. Goodness knows
whether it was asleep, if snakes ever do sleep. It certainly had its
horrible eyes open, fixed in an evil stare at anything, or nothing,
after the fashion of snakes, who are cursed in that they cannot shut
their eyes to things. (Imagine the position of some people in this
world if they were afflicted like the snakes!)

For about a minute that jackal stood like a carved beast in wood, with
the original bark left on his back. Then he began to sink, slowly,
gradually, till he lay as flat as a punctured bladder. And the picture
of that little black-backed fellow--that _Canis mesomelas_, if you like
official terms--all alone there, and surrounded by a dozen deaths at
least, and all nasty, doing the stalking act upon that python was
great. He stalked. My! how he stalked! And with reason, for he was
taking on, perhaps, the biggest thing in the hunting line that he had
ever tackled, and it was a million to one that, if he did not win, he
died, and horribly, too; and he knew it. Ordinarily he would have been
the python's prey.

[Illustration: "That little black-backed fellow doing the stalking act
upon that python was great"]

There was a little snicker, as it were, in the air as his fangs closed,
and the python, waking one-twentieth of a second too late, lifted its
head. Then, short and crisp--snap!

Talk about tweaking a lightning-flash by its tail! It would have been
a wake to what followed then.

The jackal knew what to expect--by instinct, I suppose. Anyway, he did
not wait longer than it takes to scrunch as hard as possible with
canine teeth as sharp as knives, and leap clear.

Ho did it, however, and stood well back, with his ears cocked and his
head on one side. It was as if he were panting, "Now, let her
rip"--and she did.

A hurricane in a cage, a volcano in an eligible house-lot, a geyser in
a water-jug