his hands two baskets, one containing tame Snakes, the other empty: these, and his musical pipe were the only things he had with him. I made the snake-catcher leave his two baskets on the ground, at some distance, while he ascended the mound with his pipe alone. He began to play: at the sound of music the Snake came gradually and slowly out of his hole. When he was entirely within reach, the snake-catcher seized him dexterously by the tail and held him thus at arm's length; whilst the Snake, enraged, darted his head in all directions, but in vain: thus suspended, he has not the power to round himself, so as to seize hold of his tormentor. He exhausted himself in vain exertions; when the snake-catcher descended the bank, dropped him into the empty basket, and closed the lid: he then began to play, and after a short time, raising the lid of the basket, the Snake darted about wildly, and attempted to escape; the lid was shut down again quickly, the music always playing. This was repeated two or three times; and in a very short interval, the lid being raised, the Snake sat on his tail, opened his hood, and danced quite as quietly as the tame Snakes in the other basket, nor did he again attempt an escape. This, having witnessed with my own eyes, I can assert as a fact.”
Fatal accidents, however, sometimes occur to the professors of the psyllic art, for there are still to be found “deaf adders,” “which will not listen to the voice of the charmer.” “In Madras,” says a writer in “Chambers's Miscellany,” “this belief [in the powers of the charmers] received a sad shock by a circumstance that occurred. One of the most noted serpent-charmers about the
