The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1889-02-23

his throat.
/ The heavy odor of the reptiles breath
was like some overpowering drug, which,
if distilled and applied in moderation,
might even be tolerable to the nostrils.
Darkness came, and added to the
terror of my situation. bly, nerves were
now badly shattered, and il the dark
ness my plight was pitiable in the ex-
treme. How shall describe tho weird
horror. of that dreadful night 1t
seemed an eternity spent amid all the
blackness aud the mental tortures of hell
itself.
Morning dawned at last, slthough I
never thought it would come and find
me in possession Of my senses. Why it
didn't find me a raving maniac or a
numbering idiot seemed the strangest
thing that had yet happened.
My first thought was to ascertain
whether the gutta- pcrcha-like opening
in my living tomb had gained on me
during these awful hours of darkness or
not. | was lying all this time face down
ward, and although by this time
weakened almost to state of helpless.
ness, used my left hand to feel the taut
rim Of the boa constructors jaws. They
were three full inches higher up my
body than yester eve. The excitement of
the night | had just passed through had
exhausted my emotions, and remember
that this sinister discovery awakened in
me no sense Of uneasiness.
l tried to form some plan of putting
An end to my existence; but my brain
refused to make connection between nv
dim, disjointed flights of thought. 1t
was no longer equal to the concentra-
ton of q definite idea. / was now
beyond all active emotions. Once
fancied l heard the cry Of some animal
or human being near by; but 1 was too
for gone to pay any attention.
At last all seemed to be over with me.
1t was as though the darkness Of night
had gradually closed over me again; a
roaring noise in my ears continued for a
while in the darkness, and then all was
silent. had sank into the unconscious
ness of complete exhaustion.
i remember nothing more until came
to my senses again in our camp on the
river bank. A couple of days nursing by
Murilla brought me around SO that
could sit up and listen to his account of
my rescue. The cry Ifancied heard just
before sinking into Inconsistencies was
from Murila. The effects of the berries
had kept him stupefed until the dawn
of the second day, the close of the night
so full Of horrible experiences to me. He
had awakened, weak and burning with
thirst. Rising up he beheld not a dozen
yards away my head and shoulders pro-
truding from the mouth of . monster
boa, whose scaly body lay in serpentine
lengths among the debris Of decaying
forest fungus
Taking it for granted that was dead,
and chilled with terror, he uttered the
Mortified cry which l had dimly heard
and rushed away to camp. Being an ex-
pert woodman he had no difficulty in
finding mis- way. The Indians had about
given us up for lost They had searched
for Us. but had never happened to visit
the right place. They were out search
ing when he reached the camp. Trem-
bling with weakness and terror, he told
the Indians the fate that had befallen
me.
Returning with axes and crocodile
spears, the party attacked the boa, chop
ing him completely in two Just below
the bulge in his body caused BY my feet
and legs, before he could escape. At the
first blow of the AK the monster made
spasmodic efforts to disgorge in order to
attack his assailants. He tried hard to
escape, but the axes were skillfully ap-
piled. and he was rendered powerless.
The severed head and neck had to be
slit open before could be released At
first they thought was dead, but were
soon re DICED at discovering a lingering
spark of life. Carrying me to the camp.
resuscitative remedies were applied. and
I was. as you have seen, finally brought
around.
In few days my health was restored