I agreed, and after the usual remuneration or bucksheesh, with a little extra, had passed hands, away went our friend down the road to the bazaar.
The following week he sent word that he was coming on a particular day, and that if I got some friends to come he would repeat the trick. The more friends, the more bucksheesh!
I gathered a few people in to have tea, and in due course the magician arrived, and with our head servant again performed the trick with the same wonderful result.
This time I solved the mystery. I told the performer my impressions of it and was glad to get his corroboration.
There was of course no collusion with the volunteer assistants.
The secret of the trick lies in a bag suspended mouth downwards from a string round the magician's waist so that it lies between his legs. This bag contained the three snakes and the small crocodile. The mouth of the bag was threaded with a string, and naturally remained closed until the string was pulled right away when the weight of the wriggling contents caused the mouth to open and the reptiles to fall upon the ground beneath. The crouching position of the magician enabled him to get his legs spanning the ground immediately beneath the orderly's hands, and the earth falling in a dust prevented the possibility of our seeing the snakes during the brief interval of their falling from under the dhotie to the ground. Needless to say that the cobras had had their fangs extracted, that the third snake was harmless, and that the baby crocodile was too small to inflict any damage, though all four participants could hiss like a young steam engine.
It was, as I say, the best trick I have ever seen in India, and from a magician's artistic point of view, the beauty of it lies in the fact that the bag is concealed through the modesty of the performer, and that in consequence the trick is not likely to be found out except by reasoning and the careful watching of all his movements.