Off we started in the delicious cool morning, sheltered from the horizontal sun by the tall stems of the palms and cocoa-nuts, through which his red face glinted like an open furnace door. Following the noble road to Colombo, just opened, and as smooth and level as the most zealous Macadamite would have desired, we struck at the end of a mile off to the left into the jungle, each making the best path he could for himself through the low underwood, briars, and grass. We were all threading through the latter knee-high, when Dan turned round and said:
“I say, old boy, I’ll tell you what, I wouldn’t have believed myself doing this a mouth ago.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? on account of the snakes, that’s why.”
“There’s plenty of snakes, though we don’t see them: make as much noise as you can in stepping through the underwood, and they scuttle away a-head.”
“Snakes!” said Will Jephson: “nonsense; who cares for them?”
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, than Master Will made a jump on one side, quick as thought itself; and then, pale as ashes, stood gazing at a clump of lemon grass, behind which the short, stumpy tail of a snake was disappearing into the brushwood. It was a Ticopolonga, the most deadly brute probably known in the world; he huskily said he had almost trod on it as it was lying asleep; and, indeed, had slightly touched it with his foot.
“How long,” said Dan to the Doctor, “after biting, does the poison begin to act?”
“Well, sir,” replied the Doctor, “he couldn’t bite, I think, through a boot, but if he had struck at the leg, and got into the skin, the gentleman would possibly have been dead in ninety-two seconds!”
We all paused for a minute to think on the fact. Will Jephson pulled off’ his broad-brimmed pith hat, and wiped his forehead where the beads were standing out as thick and large as young currants on a bunch.
“It’s very warm,” he said faintly.
It was getting warm, certainly; but ninety-two seconds between this world and the next was even warmer work for the brain than ninety-two degrees in the shade for the body!
In a few minutes we emerge from the wood into the paddy fields, where the young rice is sprouting tenderly above the hot reeking mud; and changing the seething morass into lakes of waving green, through which little raised dykes, six or eight inches wide on top, ran chequer-wise in all directions. Along these we walked in Indian file three weary miles, the sun increasing in power each moment: there is nothing half so bad as the morning sun in my opinion, not a breath of air stirring, while the awkwardness of the causeway increased the pain of the march in a very large degree. Many times I inwardly groaned, and asked myself whether it was worth while to endure such sickening heat for the sake of any sight; and oh! what a relief it was to jump off that miserable ledge, and throw myself on the ground beneath the trees in a little oasis or island common in the midst of these immense rice lakes. Here the villagers who lived on this island came to meet us, and we heard that on the other side we should see the city of which we were in search, and should reach it by crossing another rice-field, about a mile in breadth. The palm grove in which we lay was full of parroquets, which screamed and sailed over our heads in all directions; we should have fired at them, but the Doctor strongly advised forbearance if we wished to see the foxes in their usual state of repose. Starting up, we crossed the island, and as we emerged from the grove at the opposite end, sure enough across the green plain we beheld a strange and unexpected sight, which the Doctor pointed at in great triumph. About a mile distant there was another island in the midst of this vegetable sea, looking like a great black coal set in aqua marine. That was all I could make of it at first, and it was only in drawing nearer to it in crossing the narrow viaduct that E could separate the resemblance from the reality. Then, indeed, I beheld the most astonishing thing I ever yet saw; although I have travelled in many countries, far and wide, yet this was so unique in its way as to eclipse all others completely. The island, which was about a mile in diameter, was covered with tall trees utterly bare of leaves, indeed there was not a vestige of a leaf to be seen; and from every bough, approaching in the least to horizontality, there hung clusters of that gigantic bat which bears the name of the flying-fox.[1] Suspended with their heads down, and their bodies entirely covered, except the tips of their noses, with their huge leathery wings, they looked for all the world like so many black Norfolk turkeys suspended from a huge poulterer’s shop about Christmas time in Leadenhall market. They hung there perfectly motionless, evidently asleep, for they are nocturnal by habit, roving about sunset for many miles all round, and making sad havoc with the fruit trees and orchards of the natives; a terrible curse to the country; the wonder being that no means are taken to extirpate the bats, a matter of no difficulty with plenty of powder, shot, and pea-rifles or air-guns, considering their gregarious nature, and the conspicuous objects they are to fire at. As it was, when nearly within range our fingers itched for the trigger, but the Doctor put up his hand gently, and whispered:
“Not yet, please, let us go into the place and look well at them first.”
Into the city we crept, quite softly, not to disturb the inhabitants; the very brushwood was bare of leaves; the ground was over an inch covered with guano; and their skeletons and skulls lay thickly in all directions. We advanced into the heart of the place, and selecting the most flourishing poulterer’s establishment for our aim, waited the doctor’s signal.
“Fire together!” said he, hoarsely. “One, two, three—fire.”
Bang went our eight barrels, and down tumbled near a dozen foxes. And now we saw why the Doctor wished us to fire together. In an instant,- ↑ The Royal Zoological Society of London have recently added to their magnificent collection of animals in Regent’s Park some specimens of the Flying-Fox.
