At the Major's questioning look he pointed toward Terry: "He shot it. Pistol."
The Major surveyed Terry steadfastly, striving for appropriate expression of what was in his heart.
Then, "Terry, I am much obliged. If I ever—if ever you—I'm much obliged!"
It was dark when they reached the house. Later they heard the triumphant shouts which announced the arrival in the village of the men bearing the carcass of the snake, which had haunted the neighborhood for a generation. The celebration of its passing lasted far into the night. After dinner Lindsey and Terry strolled to the village to measure the python, and Lindsey ordered it skinned immediately.
You may still see the trophy in the Davao Club, its scaly length stretched along the molding on two sides of the library, where the Major asked Lindsey to place it with this legend:
This python attacked Major John Bronner, P.C.,
on the Lindsey Plantation.
Length................24 feet, 9 inches
Greatest diameter.............14 inches
Major Bronner owes his life to the wonderful
pistol marksmanship of his friend,
Lieut. Richard Terry, P.C.
The ride home through the dewy night stiffened the Major's sore muscles and strained joints intolerably. Terry called in the Health Officer, fat Doctor Merchant, who looked him over and pronounced him uninjured, leaving some vile-smelling liniment. The Major winced under Matak's too efficient rubbing of bruised areas.
"Horse dope!" he snorted.
Later, dozing, he waked to see Terry's door close and open again after a few minutes. Puzzled as on the preceding night, he fell asleep over the problem.