thon--small for a python--to hunt a pangolin--who was as like a thin
pineapple with a long tail, if you understand me, as it was like
anything, or like a fir-cone many times enlarged, only it was an
animal, and a weird one--into that den of thieves.

Mrs. Mesomelas, she appeared to shoot straight from dreamless slumber
on to the pangolin's back in some wonderful way, and Mr. Mesomelas, he
bounced from the arms of Morpheus into--the jaws of the snake? No,
sirs; on to the nape of that snake's neck, if snakes may be said to
have napes to their necks. But to get hold of the neck of a python is
one thing, to keep there quite a different, and very risky, affair; and
our jackal, who was no pup, knew that. If that legless creation of the
devil could only have got his tail round something, our jackal might
have been turned into food for his food, so to speak. Wherefore,
possibly, he was frightened. It was like taking hold of a live wire by
the loose end. Moreover, the space was confined, and there were the
whelps and all, and I rather fancy black-back was more frightened to
leave go and stay than he was to hold on and run.

Anyway, he held on and ran.

An old, fat zebra stallion, round-barreled and half-asleep, snorted
suddenly, and stared with surprise at the sight of a black-backed
jackal galloping as fast as circumstances would permit him, with the
wide-mouthed head of a python in his jaws, and the remaining long,
painted body trailing out behind. The snake was not going with any
pleasure, and his wriggling tail was feeling for a hold every inch of
the way, and if he could have got one--oh, jackal! But he could not,
for the jackal kept on going, and the snake's after-length kept on
trailing out straight, like a loose rope behind a boat, through the
perishing glare and the heat-flurry that seemed to be making the whole
world jump up and down, as it does when you look at it over the top of
a locomotive-funnel.

Snakes take a long time to die, or to _seem_ dead, even with a double
set of glistening sharp teeth scrunching as hard as their owner knows
how into their neck. At last, however, after a final series of efforts
to get, and keep, in the shape of a letter S, the python's tail
gradually ceased to feel for a hold, and the writhing strain in the
jackal's jaws relaxed. Still, our Mesomelas was taking no chances, and
he galloped home with his capture before he stopped, as proud and happy
an old dog, rascally jacka