CHAP. VII.

If there is happiness below,

In such a home she’s shrin’d.

The human heart can never know

Enjoyment more refin’d,

Than where that sacred band is twin’d

Of filial and parental ties;

That tender union all combin’d,

Of nature’s holiest charities!

The morning was dry, but gloomy, and the fire cheerfully burning in the

breakfast-room, when he was conducted thither by the delighted children,

was no unpleasant object to Mr. Elmer; who both from his advanced

age, and from the effects of a long residence in the torrid regions,

was very susceptible of the autumnal changes of temperature. Warmth

and cheerfulness soon however pervaded his frame and his spirits, in

the family circle of his daughter, aided by that most social of meals

the morning’s repast, which was protracted by the relation of many an

anecdote, and the passing of many a joke. Reverting to the removal of

the menagerie, Harry said “if we could have seen it again, grandpapa,

should we have seen the great serpent that is named in the bill?” “The

_boa constrictor_ do you mean?” “Yes, grandpapa. Joanna says she should

not like to see it, it must be so frightful.” “Its magnitude makes it

terrible, my dear; and indeed all the serpent tribe convey unpleasant

ideas to the mind, but if we can divest ourselves of this feeling,

they are beautiful to behold, from the vividness and variety of their

colours. Your mention of this enormous serpent, my dear Harry, reminds

me of a species I have frequently seen and admired in Asia; it is called

the _boiga_, remarkably beautiful, combining the most lively colours of

the richest gems with the splendour of burnished gold, mingled with dark

brown shades, which contrast and display the more brilliant hues. The

whole under surface of the head and body is of a silver white, separated

from the changing blue of the back by a golden chain on each side the

whole length of the body. This fine blue and silver, ornamented with

gold, by no means however gives a full idea of the beautiful embroidery,

as it may be termed, of the _boiga_. We must take it in all the

reflected tints of silver colour, golden yellow, red, blue, green and

black mingled, and ever changing in the most extraordinary and beautiful

manner possible; so that when about to change its skin, it seems studded

with a mingled assemblage of diamonds, emeralds, topazes, sapphires, and

rubies, under a transparent veil of bluish chrystal. Thus in the rich

and torrid plains of India, where the most splendid gems abound, nature

seems to have chosen to reunite them all together with the noble metals

to adorn the brilliant robe of the _boiga_. It is one of the most slender

of serpents in proportion to its length, which but rather exceeds three

feet, yet not more than a few lines in diameter. The tail is nearly as

long as the body, and like a needle for fineness at the extremity, yet

is somewhat flattened on all sides so as to be in some measure square.

From the delicacy of its form, its movements are naturally agile, so

that doubling itself up several times, it can spring to a considerable

distance, with great swiftness. It can twine and twist itself most

readily and nimbly around trees or other similar bodies, climbing or

descending, or suspending itself, with the greatest facility. The _boiga_

feeds on small birds, which it swallows very easily, notwithstanding the

small diameter of its body; as, like other serpents, it has the power

of distending its throat and stomach. It conceals itself under the

foliage of trees, on purpose to surprise the small birds, and is said to

attract them by a peculiar kind of whistling, to which the term of song

has been applied, certainly with great impropriety, as its long divided

tongue and the conformation of its other organs of sound are not adapted

to a melodious continuity of tones. Yet although nature has not ranked

the _boiga_ amongst the songsters of the woods, it certainly seems to

possess a more perfect instinct than other serpents, united to more agile

movements and more beautiful exterior. In the isle of Borneo [_note

3_], the children play with the _boiga_ without the smallest dread;

they carry it in their hands, and twist it about their necks, arms, and

bodies in a thousand directions. It returns caress for caress with the

Indian children, who fondle it apparently pleased to be intwined about

their little hands and arms. The appearance of these nimble and innocent

animals in the forests, is extremely beautiful, displaying their splendid

colours and gliding swiftly from branch to branch, without possessing the

smallest noxious quality. We may perhaps almost regret, that this species

require a degree of heat greatly surpassing that of our regions, and that

it can only subsist near the tropics, in Asia, Africa, and America. In

fact, the _boiga_ seems not only to possess superior beauty, but may be

said to personify the old maxim of combining the wisdom of the serpent

with the harmlessness and gentleness of the dove.”

“Thank you, my dear grandpapa,” said the ever-ready spokesman, Harry,

delighted to listen to these accounts of his venerable relative,

who justly thought this oral instruction, in the hours of familiar

intercourse, was infinitely more likely to impress the youthful mind,

than mere reading-works of natural history; he therefore lost no

opportunity of describing what he had seen or heard likely to interest

the children.

“You have seen the serpents in India taught to dance, have you not, my

dear father?” asked Mrs. Monson. “Serpents dance, mamma,” said Harry,

laughing, “I should as soon have thought our favorite elephant could

dance a reel.” “I have however,” said Mr. Elmer, “several times seen the

serpents in India dance, and those too very different in disposition

to the innocent _boiga_, for among the arts of the Indian jugglers and

mountebanks, the most remarkable is, that they make one of the most

venemous serpents, the _naja_, or hooded snake, called by the Portuguese

_cobra de capello_, what they term dance. This serpent is most dangerous

to man, infusing by his bite a deadly poison into the wound. Those who

are so unfortunate as to be bitten by it, are immediately seized with

fits and dreadful oppression, and expire in convulsions, unless speedy

assistance is given; at least they hardly escape mortification in the

injured part, the cure of which is very difficult, if antidotes are not

instantly applied. This serpent, which belongs to the class of vipers, is

from three to four feet in length, and of a middling thickness; its skin

is scaly, beautifully striped, rough, dark brown, and the under part of

its body white. When provoked, it has the singular property of puffing up

the skin on both sides of the neck and extending it like a fillet, which

on the reverse side shows like a pair of spectacles distinctly marked

with a white colour, the circles of which are visible in the skin, which

is spread round the head: thus with its body raised, and with extended

jaws, displaying two rows of sharp teeth, it darts upon the enemy with

surprising swiftness. That this formidable animal should be brought by

singing to make, before spectators, movements resembling a dance, is

almost incredible to those who only hear of it, and an astonishing, if

not agreeable sight to those who witness it.”

“Oh pray tell us more about the serpent-dance, grandpapa, if it is not

too much trouble,” said Harry, riding astride Mr. Elmer’s knee, and

looking all eager curiosity. “It is all very natural, my boy, as you

will find when I describe the dance. A juggler, or charmer of serpents

as they call themselves, who intends to display his art, before he does

any thing, takes a piece of a certain root, of which he always carries

some in his girdle, in his right hand, closing it firmly; this root he

declares, defends him against all attacks from serpents; so that he can

do any thing with them without being endangered. After this, he throws

the serpent on the ground, out of the vessel in which he carries it

about, and gently irritates it with a stick, or with the clenched hand

in which he holds the root. The provoked animal, resting upon the point

of its tail, raises up its whole body, and darts upon the fist which he

holds out to him, with flaming eyes and extended jaws, from which the

hissing tongue is protruded.” “Oh how frightened I should be to see it,”

said Joanna, timidly. “The charmer,” resumed Mr. Elmer, “now begins

his song, at the same time moving his fist backwards and forwards, up

and down, according to the time. The serpent, with its eye constantly

directed towards the fist, imitates its movements with its head and whole

body, so that without quitting its place, and resting on its tail, it

extends its head two spans long, and moves to and fro, together with the

body, in beautiful undulations, which is called dancing: this, however,

does not last more than half a quarter of an hour; for exhausted by the

erect position and movements to the musical time, the serpent throws

itself upon the ground and escapes. To avoid this, the charmer breaks

off his song a little before, when the serpent lays itself quietly upon

the ground, and suffers itself to be brought back to its receptacle.”

“Then, grandpapa, the root has a secret power, and the song does make the

serpent harmless?” eagerly asked Harry. “These people certainly affirm

so, my dear, for they say, the root causes the serpent to do no harm, and

the singing makes it dance; but I do not believe that this is true in

either case. According to the conviction produced on my mind, by accurate

observation, I think it is fear by which these serpents are taught to

follow the motions of the master’s hand, which is held before them, and

are induced to the movements resembling those of a dance. I once saw a

Hindoo instruct such a serpent in a few days to dance, by means of a

stick and a bason which he held before it; and they are rendered harmless

by extracting the poison from the bags at the root of the canine teeth of

the upper jaw, which is done by provoking them, and making them bite a

cloth or some other soft and warm body, by repeating which several days

successively, the poison is extracted. Yet it appears from the testimony

of many respectable travellers, that there are certainly many vegetable

substances which afford security against the bite of a serpent. There is

a herb in Abyssinia so efficacious against poison, that it is stated, the

most venemous serpents immediately on touching it are as if stunned, and

whoever eats the root of this herb may be for years amongst the most

poisonous serpents without danger of injury.”

“Well, when I go to India,” said Harry, “I should like certainly to have

a little of that herb, for I cannot say I like snakes and serpents,

they seem so sly.” “Infinite wisdom has endued them with this subtilty,

my dear,” remarked Mr. Elmer, “in obedience to that grand law of

self-preservation, which pervades animated creation. Your observation of

the _slyness_ of the serpent tribe may perhaps more peculiarly and justly

be applied to that species of them called the _cerastes_, or horned

snake. This serpent is emphatically called by the orientals the _lier in

ambush_, as it lies in wait for passengers in the sand. From its lurking

place, it treacherously bites the horses’ heels, so that the rider is

thrown off backward, in consequence of the horses’ legs becoming almost

immediately torpid, through the virulence and activity of the poison.”

“O dear, what a dreadful animal,” said Joanna. “It is so, my dear,”

replied the good old man; “but yet the more we look into the works of the

Almighty, the more reason shall we find to acknowledge that nothing is

made in vain, and although there will be many mysteries beyond our finite

capacities to understand, yet we may discern ample proofs of wisdom and

goodness: we ought then to adore in silence, and wait in patience till

the veil is further removed from the ways of our great and good Creator.

Even this wily serpent, whose insidious attack seems so revolting to the

generous nature of man, is endued with the instinctive power, in order to

preserve its own existence. It is about thirteen or fourteen inches long,

and has two small excrescences on the head, resembling barley-corns, and

which the natives compare to horns. They are, however, properly feelers,

which project when the serpent is covered in the sand; when it moves

these feelers (as you doubtless have seen snails), the birds, who fancy

they are worms, fall upon them; then the _cerastes_, which is roused by

the slightest touch of its feelers, twines round the birds, and kills

and devours them. It is however apparently a very malignant animal,

for when it inclines to surprise any one who is too far from him, he

creeps with his side towards the person and with his head averted, till

judging his distance he turns round and springs upon him, fastening on

the part next to him. It has the power of easily doing this, as it moves

with great rapidity, and in all directions.” “Ah! how different from the

innocent _boiga_,” said Joanna. “But,” added Mr. Elmer, “among the great

number of serpents which abound in Hindostan, the _cobra minelle_ is

the most dangerous, although the smallest. I will conclude our notices

of this subtle tribe with the description of this fearful animal,

whose bite occasions a speedy and painful death. They are of a brown

colour, speckled with black and white, though at a distance not easily

distinguished from the ground on which they move; happy however would it

be for many who become their victims, if they confined themselves to it,

but they enter the houses, and creep upon the beds and chairs. I once

found four in my chamber.” “Well, I am happy I do not live in India,

however,” said Joanna; “for all the jewels, and grandeur, and delightful

fruits would be nothing to me from the fear I should continually have

of the serpents.” “They are indeed not very pleasant inmates,” replied

Mr. Elmer, “often being found in old walls. But what, Joanna, will you

say of a serpent which discovered to a prince a great treasure; that was

even more extraordinary than dancing, was it not?” “I think so, indeed,

grandpapa, but how was it?”

“A prince of Persia, we are informed,” resumed Mr. Elmer, “was reduced

to great difficulties from want of a due attention to his government and

treasury (for you are ever to remember that difficulty and distress will

inevitably follow neglect and carelessness). Walking disconsolately and

anxiously one day, in an apartment of his palace, which had previously

been the residence of his enemy and rival, he perceived a serpent

putting its head out of a chink in the wall. Immediately seized with a

superstitious fear, he summoned persons to search the wall and destroy

the serpent. In opening the wall for this purpose, a secret place was

discovered in which they did not find the serpent, but a vast treasure

lodged in several coffers, in which _Jacout_, his enemy, had deposited

his most precious effects.” “Is that story true, grandpapa?” asked

Harry. “We are assured by the person that relates it of its veracity,

my dear; I cannot vouch for it.” “And do you think, grandpapa, that

they really do charm the serpents and make them harmless?” “Really, my

dear boy, you have proposed a question I find it difficult to answer.

Numerous testimonies of the fact might be collected, and truly there

are some instances in which the powers of the persons professing the

art appear extraordinary. A modern traveller in Africa (Brown) says,

after expressing his surprise at those powers, ‘the serpent most common

at Kahina is of the viper class, and undoubtedly poisonous. If one of

them enter a house, the charmer is sent for, who uses a certain form

of words. I have seen three serpents thus enticed out of a cabin of

a ship lying near the shore. The operator handled them, and then put

them in a bag. At other times I have seen the serpents twist round the

bodies of these Psythi in all directions, without having had their fangs

extracted or broken, and without receiving any injury from them.’ That

they certainly are highly susceptible of musical sounds, I have many

times had occasion to observe,” said Mr. Elmer, “and though I did not

mean to enlarge further upon the subject, I will add one other little

anecdote which occurs to my recollection. Among my drawings, I have that

of the _cobra de capello_, or hooded snake, which danced for an hour on

the table while I painted it; during which time I frequently handled

it, to observe the beauty of the spots, and especially the spectacles

on the hood, which I have described to you, not a moment doubting

that its fangs had been previously extracted, consequently that I was

caressing an innoxious animal. But the next morning a domestic, who was

a Mahometan, came to me in great haste, and desired I would instantly

retire and praise the Almighty for my good fortune. Not understanding

his meaning, I told him I had already performed my devotions, and that

my religion did not enjoin so many stated prayers as to the followers of

his prophet. Mahomed then explained the reasons I had for the immediate

act of praise, by informing me, that while he was purchasing some fruit

in the bazar, he observed the man who had attended me on the preceding

evening, entertaining the country people with his dancing snakes; they

according to usual custom sat on the ground around him, when either from

the music stopping too suddenly, or from some other cause irritating the

vicious reptile I had so often handled, it darted at the throat of a

young woman, and inflicted a wound of which she died in the short space

of half an hour.” An exclamation of horror burst from the children at the

relation of this fatal catastrophe. “Mahomed,” continued Mr. Elmer, “once

more repeated his advice for praise and thanksgiving to Alla, and did not

fail to record me in his calendar as a lucky man.” “Indeed, grandpapa, I

think he was quite right, and I dare say you thought so too, and did not

neglect his advice?” Mr. Elmer was on the point of assuring Harry that

he was truly sensible of the providence which had saved him from this

shocking and rapid death, when Mrs. Monson entered the room. “The morning

having cleared so delightfully, my dear father,” she said to Mr. Elmer,

“perhaps you would like to put in practice your intention of walking to

dame Wilson’s, for some honey. Myself and the children will be happy to

show you the way to our respectable old friend.” “I accept your offer,

my dear,” said Mr. Elmer, “provided it is not too late, but (taking out

his watch) I must be at C—— by three o’clock.” “Oh, grandpapa, there will

be plenty of time,” said Harry, delighted that he should still enjoy his

grandpapa’s company.

“Well, then,” said Mrs. Monson, “let us be quick, and prepare, while

the sun shines so gloriously and the air is so clear and balmy. I will

but tell Susan to follow us with the little ones, and we will set off

directly;” and she hastened out of the room with all a mother’s, all a

daughter’s feelings glowing at her heart and animating her countenance,

while the good old man followed her with his eyes, into which started the

tear of joyful affection.

A visit to the elephant · 第 8 / 12 题