At this moment--it seemed a strange and incongruous thing--there broke in upon the eager spiritual colloquy a sound so ridiculously common and familiar that, uneasy as he was, Tom could almost have laughed. It was the discordant rattle with which, in India, a snake-charmer and conjuror calls his audience together. The sounds came from behind Tom. Turning in haste, he saw a hooded snake rearing up its ugly neck and head within a few feet of him. Behind the snake, sitting crouched together and eyeing him curiously, was an old man, with coal-black face, white hair, and supernaturally bright eyes. He was wrapped in a dirty white chuddah; a cloth, containing his implements of trade, lay outspread before him, and he held in his hand a light wand, with which he was directing the movements of the snake. When Tom turned he stopped his jabber for a moment to beg him not to be afraid, adding impressively that if he would only have patience, he would behold such a sight as he had never seen before. 'Others kill,' cried the old man, looking round on the soldiers who, pleased at any sort of fun, were crouching about him. 'They bring you a mongoose. There is a fight. The monster is killed. He lies stiff and stark before you. You clap your hands like silly children. But what is that? Nothing. I snap my fingers at them. No mongoose here, good sirs! No killing! I did not say no fight. Yes, you love fighting, and a fight you shall see! But a man will fight the monster; a man with his naked hands, and it shall be--not killed--but tamed! That is the true triumph, my masters--the true revenge! My enemy's blood, what is it? For a moment it fills my nostrils with its savour, in the next it is gone. But to tame him, to see him lie down at my feet and lick my hand, to spurn him once, and yet again; day after day to behold him grovel more deeply before me. This is joy! This is ecstasy! And it is this, in little, which I call you to behold.' He spoke in a high key, and with the most extraordinary rapidity, holding his wand, as he spoke, over the head of the cobra, which moved uneasily from side to side as if it were trying to escape from some fascinating influence. His voice dropped and there was a lull. The serpent gazed at him sleepily. He crooned a low song, which seemed to have a stupefying effect upon it, for it dropped and lay like dead. The soldiers, meantime, stirred to the entrails by his address, showed all the symptoms of intoxication; some rolling about in speechless ecstasy, others dancing, singing, and shouting, so that, in a few moments, the camp was changed into a field of demons.