The snake, of course, sucked it with the blood; it immediately stopped drinking, straightened its body, and rocked its head to and fro, knocking the tree-trunks and hissing desperately.
Chang, feeble and hardly able to stand, dragged himself as fast as he could out of reach on to the beach and quickly untied his boat. Nevertheless, before going out to sea, he fetched a sword and went cautiously into the wood again. The snake did not move. Chang flourished his sword, and with a mighty stroke cut the head off and ran to his boat.
He returned to the City-over-the-sea, went to bed and was ill for a month. When he spoke of his experience, he always said that, to his mind, it was the beautiful girl he had seen at first who had come again in the form of a snake.
THE SPIRIT OF THE RIVER
In a small village along the river Tsz lived a fisherman named Siu. He started every night with his nets, and took very great care not to forget to bring with him a small jar of spirits. Before throwing his cast-net, he drank a small cup of the fragrant liquor and poured some drops into the slow current, praying aloud:
"O Spirit-of-the-river, please accept these offerings and favour your humble servant. I am poor and I must take some of the fishes that live in your cold kingdom. Don't be angry against me and don't prevent the eels and trouts coming to me!"
When every fisherman on the river brought back only one basket of fishes, he always proudly bore home a heavy charge of two or three baskets full to the brim.
Once, on a rosy dawn of early spring, when the sun, still below the horizon, began to eat with its golden teeth the vanishing darkness, he said aloud:
"O Spirit-of-the-river! For many years, every night I have drunk with you a good number of wine-cups; but I never saw your face; won't you favour me with your presence? We could sit together, and the pleasure of drinking would be much greater."