to get out of
his way, and if he treads on one, there is nothing between its fangs and
his skin. Again, the huts of the natives, being made of wattle and daub
and thatched with straw, offer to snakes just the kind of shelter that
they like, and the wonder is that naked men, sleeping on the ground in
such places, and poking about dark corners, among their stores of fuel
and other chattels, meet with so few accidents. It says a great deal for
the mild and inoffensive nature of the snake. Still, the total number of
deaths by snake-bite reported every year is very large, and looks
absolutely appalling if you do not think of dividing it among three
hundred millions. Treated in that way it shrivels up at once, and when
compared with the results of other causes of death, looks quite
insignificant.

The natives themselves are so far from regarding the serpent tribe with
our feelings that the deadliest of them all has been canonised and is
treated with all the respect due to a sub-deity. No Brahmin, or
religious-minded man of any respectable caste, will have a cobra killed
on any account. If one takes to haunting his premises, he will
propitiate it with offerings of silk and look for good luck from its
patronage.

About snakes other than the cobra the average native concerns himself so
little that he does not know one from another by sight. They are all
classed together as _janwar,_ a word which answers exactly to the
"venomous beast" of Acts xxviii. 4; and though they are aware that some
are deadly and some are not, any particular snake that a _sahib_ has had
the honour to kill is one of the deadliest as a matter of course. I have
never met a native who knew that a venomous snake could be distinguished
by its fangs, except a few doctors and educated men who have imbibed
western science. In fact they do not think of the venom as a material
substance situated in the mouth. It is an effluence from the entire
animal, which may be projected at a man in various ways, by biting him,
or spitting at him, or giving him a flick with the tail.

The Government of India spends a large sum of money every year in
rewards for the destruction of snakes. This is one of those sacrifices
to sentiment which every prudent government offers. The sentiment to
which respect is paid in this case is of course British, not Indian.
Indian sentiment is propitiated by not levying any tax on dogs, so the
pariah cur, owned and disowned, in all stages of star