The dart of one of these lizards upon an unfortunate fly was too quick for the eye to follow. One minute the curious little creature in its glistening armour would be creeping up to within a few inches of a fly busy at work brushing its head and wings with a care and nicety that suggested great pride in its personal appearance; the next moment there would be what seemed to be a faint streak upon the palm thatch, and the lizard would be where the fly was preening itself, but the fly was gone, and it had not been seen to fly away. It was there still, but securely enclosed, and ready to be transmuted into food.
"They are quick," thought Harry; but his attention was taken off the lizards to the action of something gliding along among the loose leaves of the thatch—something long and pale green and grey. It seemed to be so insecurely placed that it appeared to be on the point of falling, and if it had dropped it must have been upon the sleeping figure of Phra. But somehow it held on by means of the long plates or scales at the lower part of its body in one or two places, while the rest hung in limp, unsupported folds.
It was very interesting to follow the sinuous movements of this snake, a gracefully thin creature of about four feet long; and over and over again Harry laughed to himself, thinking how Phra would jump when he felt the thin, twining reptile drop upon him; but there was no fear of its falling, for it had the instinct of self-preservation strong within its fragile body, and it always appeared to be holding on tightly by one part, while the other was gliding forward seeking a fresh hold.
It was nothing new to the watcher, for Harry had seen snakes of this kind often, both living and dead, and his father had pointed out to him that it was of a perfectly harmless description, the head being softly elliptical and gently graduated off in its junction with the long, thin neck, showing no sudden swellings out caused by the possession of poison glands, which give to the dangerous little serpents the peculiar spade-shaped or triangular head with the corners bluntly rounded off.
As Harry lay watching the snake, he fully expected to see it dart its head at some of the flies buzzing about, but it went on its way quietly investigating, for it was in search of more juicy morsels than flies, its instinct having taught it that the palm thatch of such a roof as that in which it searched was exceedingly likely to contain the nest of some mouse or hole-loving bird, one of the little wren-like creatures whose fat, featherless young would form delicious morsels for a creature whose teeth were implements for holding on and not for masticating its prey.
In those days the American humourist was not born, or, as he did, Harry might have lain there and wondered in connection with their food and the great length of neck whether it tasted "good all the way down." But naturally, as he had not read the lines, he thought nothing of the kind. In fact, he paid no more heed to the little snake beyond thinking of what a number of different things there were living in that thatched edifice; for all at once there was a low, deep, humming buzz, a flash as of burnished copper, and a thick, squat beetle flew in beneath the roof, lit on one of the bamboo rafters, and began to fold up its gauzy wings perfectly neatly, shutting them up beneath their cases, into which they fitted so closely, that when all was shut up there was no sign of opening, and a casual observer would never have imagined that such a short, stumpy, armour-clad, horny creature, all spikes and corners about the legs, could fly.
That beetle took up a great deal of Harry's attention, for all was so still that when it crawled up into the thatching, holding on by its hooked legs, the rustle and scratching could be plainly heard. But at last the sound seemed to be distant, while, strangely enough, the beetle gradually appeared as if it were swelling out to a gigantic size, but grew hazy and undefined, and was apparently about to die out as if into mist, when Harry started and saw that it was just the rounded, stumpy, coppery green insect again, and he knew that he had been asleep and was startled into wakefulness by some sound close at hand.
Voices, and then the rippling of water, and as he lay perfectly still upon his back he knew that a boat was coming abreast of the landing-place and a man was talking in a haughty, contemptuous way, as if in answer to some question that had been asked.
"That Feringhee dog the King favours; he was the beginning of the swarm that invaded the country."
"Never mind," said another voice; "don't be angry: it will soon come to an end."