“Now, Piang, now!” softly whispered Kali. Calculating the distance, Piang jerked the ratan cable, and the noose tightened around the snake’s throat.
In a moment the fence was lashed to pieces, and the pickets were flying about like so many chips, as the serpent fought and struggled. Piang and his helpers secured the cable to a post and rushed into the campong. Catching hold of the other cables, they pulled them tighter and tighter until the snake was unable to move.
The clouds were heavy and the moon shone fitfully.
“Torches!” yelled Kali, and the women scurried about in search of them. Piang and Tooloowee cautiously approached the monster’s head, holding on a stick some cotton soaked with poison. Savagely the python bit at the extended stick, and the cotton caught on the long recurved teeth. Try as it would, it could not get rid of its mouthful. The Moros congratulated themselves, thinking the danger past, little knowing what the fatal consequences would be. Under the stimulus of the poison the python began to expand, until the loops of ratan creaked and snapped. The snake did not plunge or struggle, but quietly, steadily pulled. That python broke green ratan thongs half an inch in diameter, and soon twisted out of all its fastenings except the one about its neck. Catching hold of the mango-tree with its tail, it pulled until its eyes bulged from the sockets, but the ratan held. Releasing its hold on the tree, it flopped about the campong, pulling and straining at the cable.
Finally it lay perfectly still, its dull, lidless eyes rolling upward. Without any warning, its lithe tail shot outward, swept the crowd of bystanders, and those fatal, living rings closed around Sicto, compressing the unfortunate boy with such force that he gasped for breath. Without a thought for the helpless boy, the women dropped the torches and fled screaming through the night, leaving the campong in darkness.
Only Piang came to the none too popular mestizo’s assistance. He hurled himself at the reptile’s head, campilan raised to strike, but instead of falling upon the mark, his knife severed the one remaining cable and set the monster free. Perceiving its new antagonist, and feeling its freedom, the snake rapidly unwound its tail from Sicto, who fell to the ground with a dull thud. Darting forward with lightening rapidity, it caught Piang in its circular embrace, and, coiling its tail around the tree, flattened the boy against it, as if in a mill. Tighter, closer hugged those massive, chilling rings, but Piang fought bravely.
“A light! a light!” screamed Tooloowee, as he dragged the insensible Sicto away, and, out of a nearby hut dashed a slender, graceful figure in response to the call, a fresh torch streaming its smoke and sparks around her head.
“Quick, Papita,” urged Tooloowee, and the girl came fearlessly to the aid of Piang.
“Piang!” she wailed. “Why didn’t you let it have Sicto!” Her voice seemed to put new life into the suffocating boy. With one supreme effort Piang managed to loosen his arm and struck once, twice. The python, now bleeding profusely, hissed and writhed, still tightening around the boy. Once again Piang thrust, at last reaching the creature’s heart. The rings loosened, relaxed, and Tooloowee’s well-aimed blow severed the awful head, which bounced and rolled to Papita’s feet.