Just how this was to be accomplished was not yet quite clear to him. But he had hopes that it would be done.
Harding and Pomp pushed on through the grass.
They had nearly reached its termination when a thrilling incident occurred.
Pomp was in advance, and came to what in the shadows looked like a huge log across the path.
He was about to step over it when quick as a flash it rolled itself in hideous coils about him.
It was a monster python of the most wonderful species. Pomp was but a child in the folds of the monster.
A wild yell escaped the darky’s lips.
“Golly—golly!” he cried, in agonized accents. “Marse Harding, dis chile am done gwine fo’ to be killed. Lor’ sabe mah soul!”
Harding was horrified beyond expression.
For a moment he was riveted to the spot in helpless horror. The sight of the monster snake was to him most terrifying.