Baderoon came running in. “Me kill’m! Me catch’m tailie! Me kill plenty snake on Bouru!” he yelled, begging the curator for permission to show them.
The latter smiled quietly. “Clear out, boys—and watch the fun!” he said, picking up the lamp off the table and sweeping a lot of small things out of the way. “Ever see a native kill a python? I guess the house will stand it! Go get’m Baderoon-fellah!”
Baderoon jumped for the rafters, and there was a violent commotion in the thatch as he dropped down with the tip of the boa’s tail in both hands. He and Sadok tugged away at it, soon ripping down about ten feet of the writhing coils, while the others ran laughing for the door. The commotion inside increased, and then there was a heavy thump and the crash of chairs and tables upset and flying about, and then Baderoon emerged, running down the steps with about thirty feet of snake behind him, twisting and lashing with its thick coils. The python swept everything with him and made a last stand with its neck hooked about a veranda post, while the boys yelled and catcalled with glee. Then Baderoon tore him loose and, running fast, flew with him toward the jungle, where, stopping suddenly, he snapped the snake’s long body like a whiplash and smashed his head against a tree.
“Whee!” yelled Nicky, delightedly, from the veranda. “Me for the next one! Gee! I’d like to try that stunt!”
But the python was not nearly dead yet, and he started to squirm off into the cane. Baderoon was on him like a flash, and, grabbing the tail, he snapped him against the tree again. Nicky, prancing down from the veranda, dashed in and fumbled at the writhing coils, to try it himself; but with a quick twist the powerful tail fastened itself around his ankle, and a huge, thick loop of the snake rose and curled itself tight around his waist. The boy gasped, crushed breathless, and it looked serious for a time as Dwight and the curator rushed down to the rescue, but suddenly there was a bright flash of steel, and Sadok’s parang met the next loop coming down over the boy’s head and clove it nearly in two.
“Me sorry, Orang-kaya,” said Sadok, as the snake collapsed and Nicky squirmed free of the aimless coils. “Me spoil’m specimen?”
“You did just right, Sadok!” said the curator, heartily. “He could have crushed Nicky to death, even in his last throes—”
“Him plenty debbil-debbil!” interrupted Baderoon, coming up from freeing Nicky. “White boy nebber, nebber let snake-fellah catch’m first! Mus’ run with him-a tailie—fast!” he explained, earnestly.
“Well,” said the curator, after the Fat One had been guyed to everybody’s satisfaction, “le’s go in for a look-see. Perhaps some more interesting creatures are camping out in our bungalow!”
They explored every nook and cranny of the hut, dislodging a few kangaroo mice, which were captured and added to the collections after hilarious chases, but no larger visitors were found, and no poisonous snakes, rare throughout the archipelago, were discovered. The curator set the lamp on a table out on the veranda, after supper, and they sat around it, collecting the rare moths and beetles attracted by its light. As a nightcap, the brilliant and wonderful clear-winged moth came fluttering in, and the curator snatched at it avidly with his net.