"Give me a masheer rod, and
we'll poke 'em down."
"They'll hide among the roof beams," said Strickland. "I can't stand snakes
overhead. I'm going up. If I shake 'em down, stand by with a cleaning-rod and
break their backs."
I was not anxious to assist Strickland in his work, hut I took the loading-rod
and waited in the dining-room, while Strickland brought a gardener's ladder
from the veranda and set it against the side of the room. The snake tails drew
themselves up and disappeared. We could hear the dry rushing scuttle of long
bodies running over the baggy cloth. Strickland took a lamp with him, while I
tried to make clear the danger of hunting roof snakes between a ceiling cloth
and a thatch, apart from the deterioration of property caused by ripping out
ceiling-cloths.
"N o n s en s e " said Strickland. "They're sure to hide near the walls by the
cloth. The bricks are too cold for 'em, and the heat of the room is just what
they like." He put his hands to the corner of the cloth and ripped the rotten
stuff from the cornice. It gave great sound of tearing, and Strickland put his
head through the opening into the dark of the angle of the roof beams. I set my
teeth and lifted the loading-rod, for I had not the least knowledge of what
might descend.
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