Guy, who was not used to snakes, didn't half like the idea of stalking such a monster; but as his cousin galloped on, he touched his pony with the spur and rode after him. Nearer and nearer they drew towards the rustling grass. Suddenly the movement ceased, and the huge, evil-looking head rose before them. The serpent was undeniably angry, and a big python in a rage is a formidable opponent.
"Shoot," whispered Tom in a steady voice.
Guy needed not incitement. Already his gun was up; they fired together, and as the double report rattled out, the great serpent, stricken in the head and neck, fell writhing into the pale grass. One of the two shots had luckily broken its backbone a foot or so below the head; but the huge serpent was by no means disabled, and now, half impotent though it was, it struggled furiously to reach its adversaries. Beating and flapping the earth in its agony and rage, it writhed itself towards the two horsemen, who now separated and gave it another shot apiece. Then, recharging their guns, they returned, and finished the wounded monster with a couple more charges.
Having ascertained that the snake was really dead, they dismounted and approached it; then, stretching out the reptile to its full length, Tom took a tape measure from his pocket and ran over its dimensions.
"Eighteen feet," he remarked, rising from his task. "The biggest python killed in these parts!"
"Have you many of these brutes about the place?" asked Guy, turning over the monster with his foot, and comparing the greenish white of its underparts with the brilliant markings of its upper colouring.
"No, not many," answered Tom. "They're shy, secretive beggars, and one very seldom, indeed, comes across them. I've not heard of one for two or three years."
"Thank goodness for that," rejoined Guy. "I must say, if I thought there were many of these creatures in the neighbourhood, I should come bird-shooting precious seldom, especially on foot. Surely they are dangerous? They're not poisonous, I suppose?"
"No, they're not poisonous, luckily," returned Tom. "But they can constrict. Whether they can kill a man I don't know. I shouldn't like to try the experiment. Father says they can't. Still, they can try; and if they were big enough--like this one, for example--they might give you a very unpleasant time of it. They certainly do kill small buck occasionally. Three years ago a python--rock snakes, the colonists call them--which father had shot was found to contain the bones of a duyker in its stomach; and our native boys killed another, with their knobkerries, which had killed and eaten a steinbuck just before, and was completely gorged and stupid after its meal."