“Sliding? Wasn’t it walking?”
“Yes, sliding—not rolling, as you’d expect a round thing to do down a steep like that, but jes’ gently sliding, as though it were resting on a coat. There was nothing by it, nothing at all, and it was the most surprisin’ sight I ever seed to watch that fine melon softly skimming over the grass and dodging all the stones. I was so lost, flabbergasted, unbalanced by this sight that I never saw what was awaiting the melon, down by the pool, until the last thing, when it slid, all of a sudden, into a dark hole. Into a dark hole—a sort of tunnel level with the take-off into the pool—and that hole, that tunnel, sonny, was the throat of the big devil-snake. All in a moment I saw that. The melon disappeared, the jaws of the snake came together, and a column of water shot into the air as he slid back into the pool.”
“So; and that’s where the six melons went?”
“Five, sonny; five—one of ’em was blown to smithereens by the gun. The five of ’em were swallowed by that devil-snake.”
“And how did he cut the stems so clean?”
“That’s where the mystery comes in, sonny. I expect you’ll have to take six of the best that are left, sonny; and I’m going into town next week to get some dynamite to blow the bottom outer that pool. That devil-snake might take it into his head to swallow me one of these fishing nights.”