He threw it on the ground in front of the unbelievers, and it laid there, stiff, inert, but yet terribly lifelike.
The men recoiled.
The Mahdi laughed.
“And are you frightened of a poor snake skin?” he asked, sneeringly. “Wait and see.”
He took up the snake by the end of the tail and it remained stiff.
The thing looked as if it was expanding.
“Surely it is moving,” exclaimed Ibrahim.
“Yes; look. Isn’t it splendid?” asked Max, admiringly.
There was no mistake about it. The thing was endowed with life.
Its forked tongue shot in and out its ugly mouth. Its body writhed and wriggled, as if it resented being so tightly grasped by its tail.