"Once in a land of many pigs, I worked for days and days in that part of the Jungle bending down small trees, and arranging the creepers until I had a keddah with two long sides running far out into the Jungle. Then, going beyond, I made a great noise, rushing up and down, and many of these Dwellers being possessed of fear, fled into the keddah and I devoured them."
Chita sat on his haunches and looked at Python in astonishment, his big black head low hung, and a sneer of great unbelief on his mustached lips.
"Surely this is the one great liar!" he exclaimed. "If these things be not written in the Book, then Python has most surely had such a dream as he has told us of."
"Without doubt it is a lie," declared Magh, "but for my part I am ready to believe anything of his kind. In my Jungle home never once did I climb out on a tree limb without pinching it to see whether it was wood or a vile thing such as yon mottled boaster."
"Are the stories of Python written in the Book, O Sa'-zada?" queried Mooswa.
"No," answered the Keeper, "but Python may have had this strange manner of life."
"Whether they be true tales or false tales," hissed Python, "I am now tired, and they are at an end."
"Well," said Sa'-zada, stroking the glistening scales of the big Snake's head, "it is time to cage up now. Perhaps we'll all have strange dreams to-night."
Soon the animals were sound asleep, all but Magh, who spent an hour chattering to Blitz, her Fox Terrier Pup, on the enormity of telling false tales.