the garden to another, for some minutes stopped at a part of the wall much injured by age, and intimated that a Serpent was within. He then played quicker and his notes were louder, when almost immediately a large Cobra di Capello put forth its hooded head, and the man ran fearlessly to the spot, seized it by the throat, and drew it forth. He then showed the poison-fangs, and beat them out; afterwards it was taken to the room where his baskets were left, and deposited among the rest.” “The snake-charmer,” observes the same writer, “applies his pipe to his mouth, and sends forth a few of his peculiar notes, and all the Serpents stop as though enchanted; they then turn towards the musician, and approaching him within two feet, raise their heads from the ground, and bending backwards and forwards, keep time with the tune. When he ceases playing, they drop their heads and remain quiet on the ground.”
The “Penny Magazine” for April 1833, contains the following very precise and circumstantial narrative, communicated by a gentleman of high station at Madras. “One morning as I sat at breakfast, I heard a loud noise and shouting among my palankeen-bearers. On inquiry, I learned that they had seen a large Hooded Snake, and were trying to kill it. I immediately went out, and saw the Snake creeping up a very high green mound, whence it escaped into a hole in an old wall of an ancient fortification; the men were armed with their sticks, which they always carry in their hands, and had attempted in vain to kill the reptile, which had eluded their pursuit, and in his hole had coiled himself up secure,
