"Probably the snake's fangs have been pulled," put in Burton. "I know the tricks of these snake fakirs."
"He got very good fangs, sahib," declared the Hindoo, dropping the flute and getting up. "He pretty bad snake, hard to handle. Now, watch."
Leaning forward, the Hindoo made a quick grab and caught the snake about the neck with one hand. After whirling it three times around his head, he let it fall on the earth in front of him. To the surprise of the boys and Burton, the cobra lay at full length, rigid and stiff, and straight as a yardstick.
The serpent charmer then walked around the cobra, singing a verse of Hindustani song.
"La li ta la, ta perisi,
La na comalay ah sahm-re,
Madna, ca-rahm
Ram li ta, co-co-la lir jhi!
La li ta la, vanga-la ta perisi."
"Jupiter!" exclaimed Burton. "I've heard the Bengal girls chant that song when they went to the well, of an evening, with their water pitchers on their heads. That's the time I was in India after tigers."
"Dekke!" cried the Hindoo; "I have killed my snake, my beautiful little snake! But I have a good cane to walk with."
Then, taking the rigid reptile up by the tail, he pretended to walk with it.
"How you like to buy my cane, sahib?" he asked, swinging the cobra up so that its head was close to the young motorist's breast.
Matt shook his head and stepped quickly back.