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You cannot imagine a more savage-looking creature than Cullingworth is when his temper goes wrong. He gets a perfectly fiendish expression in his light blue eyes, and all his hair bristles up like a striking cobra. He isn't a beauty at his best, but at his worst he's really phenomenal. At the first danger signal his wife had ordered the maid from the room. "What rot you do talk, Munro!" he cried.
Of course, it was the thought of Carlin imprisoned in the playhouse that broke him. Starting to run when he first saw the cobra on the threshold, he counted Failure. That burst of speed for ten steps had put the king into fighting mood. Skag had beaten thin in his own mind the possibility of ever committing Failure again. A man must not lose his nerve in the stress of a loved one's peril.
"We won't," Godfrey promised, and crossed the hall to the door leading into the little entry. Then he paused and looked around at Goldberger. "Better go slow here," he cautioned. "The adept has a pet cobra." "A snake?" "The deadliest snake in the world." Goldberger drew back a little, as did all the others. "I don't think it will bite us, though," added Godfrey, cheerfully, "if we don't crowd it.
"Well, I can feel no real pleasure without security; if I am to be ever on the alert, and turning my eyes in every direction, that I may not tread upon a puff adder, or avoid the dart of the cobra capella, I can feel little pleasure in looking at the rich hues of those flowers which conceal them.
One instant it lies passive, or slowly whirled in a careless circle the next its noose darts out like the head of a striking cobra, the coil falls and fastens, and then it draws tighter and tighter, remorselessly as a boa constrictor, paralyzing life. Something of all this went through the mind of Bard as he lay watching the limp noose of the cowboy's lariat, and then he nodded smiling.
A civil or military officer from the station, taking a solitary walk, sometimes finds himself at the Cobra Bungalow, and turns in to wander among its old trees and unswept paths, obstructed by overgrown and untended shrubs, and wonders how it got its name.
Temples in many places are erected to it, of which there is one of great celebrity in Mysore. When the festival occurs at this temple, great crowds of people come together to offer sacrifices to this creeping god. Many serpents besides the Cobra Capella live within it, in holes made especially for them. All of these are kept and well fed by the Brahmins with milk, butter, and plantains.
"The Government of India offers a reward for an antidote to the poison of the cobra. Why then do the bunis not claim it, rather than let thousands of people die helpless?" "The Brahmans would never suffer that.
I was to tell you that his heart rejoiced, at the thought of seeing you again, and that his love for you is as warm as it was when you were a boy and girl together." "This is my son, Rajbullub. He has often heard me speak of you." "Yes, indeed," Dick said, warmly. "I heard how you saved her from being bitten by a cobra, when she was a little girl." "Ah!
He has explored the arid jungles of Africa, drawn forth the spotted cobra by his prehensile tail, snowballed the Russian bear on the snowy slopes of Alpine forests, and sold wooden nutmegs to the unsuspecting innocents of Patagonia. He has peddled patent medicines in the Desert of Sahara, and hung his hat and carved his name on the extreme top of the North Pole.
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