Chapter 28 | How to Deal With an Asp | Yussuf the Guide

For some minutes Lawrence Grange stood motionless as if turned to stone, and though the sun was shining down with tremendous power, he felt cold to a degree. His eyes were fixed upon the scaly creature which he held out at arm’s length, and he could neither withdraw them nor move his arm, while the reptile twined and heaved and undulated in its efforts to withdraw its head from the tightly closed hand.

The boy could think little, and yet, strange as it may sound, he thought a great deal. But it was of people who had been bitten by reptiles of this kind, and who had died in a few minutes or an hour or two at most. He could not think of the best means of disembarrassing himself of the deadly creature. He could do nothing but stand with his eyes fixed upon the writhing beast.

It was an asp. He knew it was from the descriptions he had read of such creatures, and then the desire to throw it off—as far as he could, came over him, and his nerve began to return.

But only for a moment, and he shivered as he thought of the consequences of opening his hand. He saw, in imagination, the serpent clinging tightly with its body and striking him with its fangs over and over again.

But had it not already bitten him on the hand as he held that vicious head within his palm.

That he could not tell, only that he could feel the rough head of the hideous creature, and the scales pressing into his wrist. But the probability was that the creature had not bitten him, though it was heaving and straining with all its force, which, like that of all these creatures, is remarkably great for their size.

Once, as he stood there staring wildly, a peculiar swimming sensation came over him, and he felt as if he must fall; but if he did, it occurred to him that he must be at the mercy of this horrible beast, and by an effort he mastered the giddiness and stood firm.

How long he stood there he could not tell, only that the horror of being poisoned by the reptile seemed more than he could bear, especially now that life was beginning to open out with a new interest for him, and the world, instead of being embraced by the dull walls of a sick-chamber, was hourly growing more beautiful and vast.

All at once he started as it were from a dream, in which before his misty eyes the hideous little serpent was assuming vast proportions, and gradually forcing open his hand by the expansion of what seemed to be growing into a huge head. For from just behind him there was a hoarse cry, and then a rush of feet, and he found himself surrounded by the professor, Mr Burne, Yussuf, and the Turk at whose house they stayed.

“Good heavens, Lawrence! what are you doing?” cried the professor.

“Hush! don’t speak to him,” cried Yussuf in a voice full of authority. “Let me.”

As he spoke he drew his knife from his girdle. “Lawrence effendi,” he said quickly, “has it bitten you?”

The lad looked at him wildly, and his voice was a mere whisper as he faltered:

“I do not know.”

“Tell me,” cried Yussuf, “have you tight hold of it by the head?”

There was a pause, and Lawrence’s eyes seemed fixed and staring, but at last he spoke.

“Yes.”

Only that word; and as the others looked on, Yussuf caught Lawrence’s right hand in his left, and compressed it more tightly on the asp’s head.

“There, effendi,” he said as he stood ready with his keen bare knife in his right hand, “the serpent is harmless now. Take hold of it by the tail, and unwind it from his wrist.”

A momentary repugnance thrilled Mr Preston. Then he seized the little reptile, and proceeded to untwine it from its constriction of Lawrence’s wrist.

It seemed a little thing to do, but it was surprising how tightly it clung, and undulated, contracting itself, but all in vain, for Mr Preston tore it off and held it out as straight as he could get the heaving body, encouraged in his efforts by Yussuf’s declaration that the head was safe.

Had it not been for his strong grasp the asp would have been torn from Lawrence’s failing grasp, for he was evidently growing giddy and faint, when, placing his knife as close to the neck as he could get it, Yussuf gave one bold upward cut and divided the reptile, Mr Preston throwing down the writhing body while the head was still held tightly within Lawrence’s hand.

“Do not give way, Lawrence effendi,” said Yussuf in the same stern commanding voice as he had used before. “Hold up your hand—so. That is well.”

He twisted the lad’s clasped hand, thumb upwards, as he spoke; and those who looked on saw a few drops of blood fall from the serpent’s neck as it moved feebly, the strength being now in the body that writhed among the stones.

“Let him throw it down now,” cried Mr Preston. “He may be bitten, and we must see to him.”

“No,” said Yussuf; “he must not open his hand yet. The head may have strength to bite even now. A few minutes, effendi, and we will see.”

He watched Lawrence curiously, and with a satisfied air, for instead of growing more faint, the lad seemed to be recovering fast—so fast, indeed, that he looked up at Yussuf and exclaimed:

“Let me throw the horrid thing away.”

“It did not bite you?” said Yussuf quickly.

“No, I think not. It had no time,” replied Lawrence.

Yussuf said something to himself, and then, as he retained the hand within his, he exclaimed:

“Tell us how you came to seize the dangerous beast.”

“I took it for a lizard,” said the lad, who was nearly himself again, and then he related the whole of the circumstances.

“Hah! An easy mistake to make,” said Yussuf loosening his grasp. “Now, effendi, keep tight hold and raise your hand high like this; now, quick as lightning, dash the head down upon that stone.”

Lawrence obeyed, and the asp’s head fell with a dull pat, moved slightly, and the jaws slowly opened, and remained gaping.

“Let me look at your hand, Lawrence,” cried Mr Preston excitedly.

“Be not alarmed, excellency,” said Yussuf respectfully, his commanding authoritative manner gone. “If the young effendi had been bitten he would not look and speak like this.”

“He is quite right,” said Mr Burne, who was looking very pale, and who had been watching anxiously all through this scene. “But was it a poisonous snake?”

“One of the worst we have, effendi,” said Yussuf, stooping to pick up the broad flat head of the reptile, and showing all in turn that two keen little fangs were there in the front, looking exactly like a couple of points of glass.

“Yes,” said the professor, “as far as I understand natural history, these are poison fangs. Bury the dangerous little thing, or crush it into the earth, Yussuf.”

The guide took a stone and turned it over—a great fragment, weighing probably a hundred pounds—and then all started away, for there was an asp curled up beneath, ready to raise its head menacingly, but only to be crushed down again as Yussuf let the stone fall.

“Try another,” said the professor, and a fresh fragment was raised, to be found tenantless. Beneath this the head of the poisonous reptile was thrown, the stone dropped back in its place; and, sufficient time having been spent in the old amphitheatre, they returned to the Turk’s house to get their horses and ride off to see the ruins across the stream where the djins and evil spirits had their homes.

The horses were waiting when they got back, and the village seemed empty; for the people were away for the most part in their fields and gardens. Their host would have had them partake of coffee again, and a pipe, but the professor was anxious to get over to the ruins, what he had seen having whetted his appetite; so, after paying the man liberally for everything they had had, they mounted.

Quite a change had come over their unwilling host of the previous night, for as he held Mr Preston’s rein he whispered:

“Ask the great effendi with the yellow turban to forgive thy servant his treatment last night.”

“What does he say, Yussuf?” asked Mr Preston; and Yussuf, as interpreter, had to announce that if the effendis were that way again their host would be glad to entertain them, for his house was theirs and all he had whether they paid or no.

“And tell the effendis to beware,” he whispered; “there are djins and evil spirits among the old mosques, and houses, and tombs; and there are evil men—robbers, who slay and steal.”

“In amongst the ruins?” said Yussuf quickly.

“Everywhere,” said the Turk vaguely, as he spread out his hands; and then, with their saddle-bags and packages well filled with provisions for themselves, and as much barley as could be conveniently taken, they rode out of the village and turned down a track that led them through quite a deep grove of walnut-trees to the little river that ran rushing along in the bottom of the valley. This they crossed, and the road then followed the windings of the stream for about a mile before it struck upwards; and before long they were climbing a steep slope where masses of stone and marble, that had evidently once been carefully squared or even carved, lay thick, and five minutes later the professor uttered a cry of satisfaction, for he had only to turn his horse a dozen yards or so through the bushes and trees to stand beside what looked like a huge white chest of stone.

“Hallo, what have you found?” cried Mr Burne, rousing up, for he had been nodding upon his horse, the day being extremely hot.

“Found! A treasure,” cried the professor. “Pure white marble, too.”

“There, Lawrence, boy, it’s in your way, not mine. I never play at marbles now. How many have you found, Preston?”

“How many? Only this one.”

“Why, it’s a pump trough, and a fine one too,” cried the old lawyer.

“Pump trough!” cried the professor scornfully.

“What is it then—a cistern? I see. Old waterworks for irrigating the gardens.”

“My dear sir, can you not see? It is a huge sarcophagus. Come here, Lawrence. Look at the sculpture and ornamentation all along this side, and at the two ends as well. The cover ought to be somewhere about.”

He looked around, and, just as he had said, there was the massive cover, but broken into half a dozen pieces, and the carving and inscription, with which it had been covered, so effaced by the action of the lichens and weather that it was not possible to make anything out, only that a couple of sitting figures must at one time have been cut in high relief upon the lid.

“Probably the occupants of the tomb,” said the professor thoughtfully. “Greek, I feel sure. Here, Yussuf, what does this mean?”

He caught up his gun that he had laid across the corner of the sarcophagus, and turned to face some two dozen swarthy-looking men who had come upon them unperceived and seemed to have sprung up from among the broken stones, old columns, and traces of wall that were about them on every side.