Selwyn stretched out a ravenous hand for the gun. He planted his legs wide apart and put it to his shoulder. The great serpent, head flattened down, stared from callous eyes. Gripper showed every tooth. Scabbyback had found business in the distance. Mrs. Selwyn closed her eyes and summoned all her fortitude. There was a moment when everybody waited. A roar sounded underneath the house. The snake whipped his head up and down again in a single movement. His coils fell apart in the twinkling of an eyelid, and riot was let loose. Selwyn, scrambling back, knocked the lantern to the ground, and the light jumped up and went out.
The python thrashed the wooden piles, embraced them, rolled free again, knotted itself upon the ground, and fell in a writhing agony among the hunters.
"Give me the lamp, girl," Power cried out, "and get out quick."
Maud held out the lamp. Power took the lamp. Power bounded back. Something struck him across the leg. He leapt farther back. The python in hideous pain beat at the piles and at the air. Power heard Selwyn beside him mutter "Magnificent, magnificent."
"Shoot, man; shoot!" Power cried. Selwyn raised the gun. Power pushed forward the lantern to make best use of it. Selwyn fired point blank. The uproar in the confined space was immense. There was a heave of the coils. The python was blown in half.
The company drew slowly near, and Selwyn fell into a grand attitude, "A-ha," he said. "The old hand has not lost its cunning. A right and left, and there he lies. Fifteen foot if an inch, by Jove!"
Very terrible the python looked in death, torn about on the bloody sand with muscles yet twitching. Mrs. Selwyn closed her eyes. "Hilton, every day you have less consideration for my feelings."
"He'll be a fair size stretched," said the old man, poking with his stick. "I'm sorry about that pullet. Hold that lamp straight, Maud. Ye'll have the glass smoked. Some of you had better get this mess cleaned before the ants come. Shall we go back to the verandah, Mrs. Selwyn? Snakes don't get through the fly-netting."
They persuaded Selwyn back to everyday, and Power and he were mourners at the funeral. While they went about the ceremony, Maud and King wandered a little way into the dark. They could watch the sextons going in and out of the lamplight, Power moving quickly about the matter, and Selwyn very full of his past performance. Their own employment—finding seats on the warm stones—was the better one, for the night was hot, as are most nights when you go to live at Surprise.
"Have you nothing to say to-night, Mr. King? Are a cigarette and the dark all you want these latter days? Be wise, and give up looking for copper by Pelican Pool. I tell you gold would not be worth the labour. Give by, give by, and gain your right mind among the ledgers over there."