The spectators were silent now; the whole thing was so strange and mysterious that they had no words to express their feeling.
The juggler said something which Mr. Hunter translated to be a request for all to resume their places.
“That is a wonderful trick,” the Doctor said to Bathurst. “I have never seen it done that way before, but I once saw a juggler throw up a rope into the air; how high it went I don't know, for, like this, it was done at night, but it stood up perfectly stiff, and the juggler's attendant climbed up. He went higher and higher, and we could hear his voice coming down to us. At last it stopped, and then suddenly the rope fell in coils on the ground, and the boy walked quietly in, just as that girl has done now.”
The girl now placed herself in the center of the open space.
“You will please not to speak while this trick is being performed,” the juggler said; “harm might come of it. Watch the ground near her feet.”
A minute later a dark object made its appearance from the ground. It rose higher and higher with an undulating movement.
“By Jove, it is a python!” the Doctor whispered in Bathurst's ear. A similar exclamation broke from several of the others, but the juggler waved his hand with an authoritative hush. The snake rose until its head towered above that of the girl, and then began to twine itself round her, continuously rising from the ground until it enveloped her with five coils, each thicker than a man's arm. It raised its head above hers and hissed loudly and angrily; then its tail began to descend, gradually the coils unwound themselves; lower and lower it descended until it disappeared altogether.
It was some time before anyone spoke, so great was the feeling of wonder. The Doctor was the first to break the silence.
“I have never seen that before,” he said, “though I have heard of it from a native Rajah.”
“Would the sahibs like to see more?” the juggler asked.