raises its body in curves, and propels itself with a corkscrew motion by pressure against the ground where the coil of its body touches. The movement is suggestive of leaps taken by the aid of feet. A large rat snake, perfectly harmless, and which might have been left to go its way in peace, was once pursued through my compound by a band of excited coolies. As it sped along the edge of the carriage drive, out-distancing the yelling enemy, it had the movement of a rope twisted by a rotary motion of the hand. Where it touched the ground the sand was pushed into a little ridge. Not being troubled with an instinctive antipathy to the serpent tribe, I rejoiced that the poor thing escaped. The coolies were of a different mind. They intended to put it in the curry-pot, if they had succeeded in killing it. Its flesh is said to be quite as good as eel.
It is difficult to understand how a snake can drink milk with a cleft tongue. It manages to imbibe the liquid somehow. Of all the offerings presented by its worshippers, milk finds the greatest favour, and will draw it from its hole when nothing else will tempt it. There is a belief that a snake will suck the milk from a cow, but with such a tongue this is an impossibility.
According to legend, the tongue of the serpent was not always slit. In the old mythological days, there existed upon the earth with Rakshas and demons a race of terrible serpents. It was through their audacity that the curse of a split tongue descended upon the whole species. The legend relates that certain treasures were lost during a deluge that drowned the world. The gods were anxious for their recovery. At that period the world was surrounded by seven concentric circular seas. One of these was of milk, and it was in this sea that the treasures were submerged.
Vishnu turned himself into a tortoise and stationed
