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

OF trying TO extricate myself from the
vicelikc embrace that appeared to clutch
me as in a rubber mold at terrible ten
sion. from the waist down. 1t wa, only
a n ghtmare, which would pass away in
little while. And yet, it couldn't be
a nightmare, for was 1imly conscious
Of being awake after all, and not asleep
and dreaming
Realizing this, by a supreme effort of
the will aroused my well,nigh dormant
faculties to sense that something terri.
bic was the matter. The numbness had
not reached my arms, and tried to raise
myself up-I was lying face downward
As | strove to rise | was dragged back
ward several feet along the ground.
Horrified and bewildered, raised myself
up with frantic effort, sufficient to
look toward my helpless extremity. My
! God. was half engulfcd in the throat
Of monster boa. THIS bideous reptile,
finding me lying at length on the ground,
stupefied, had deliberately set about
swallowing me.
Now | was thoroughly aroused; the
sensation was as though some powerful
1 suction-pump were emp'oyed in drag
ging me remorselessly down, down,
down, inch by inch, into the Shiny
depths Of my devourer's stomach. Twas
suffering no physical pain to speak of;
the dreadful pressure on the lower half
ofthe body created only numbness there;
above was a sense OF oppressiveness, but
there was an utter absence Of acute
pain.
An indescribably sickening odor also
emanated from the monstrous reptile
that was leisurely working me down its
throat. 1t was the breath from the foul
and Shiny stomach that already entombed
my feet and legs, and would ere long
close over my head. Maddened at the
loathsome prospect. gave a Mortified
scream Of agony, and, Olutching franti-
cally at the ground, struggled to re-
lease myself from the deadly embrace Of
the serpent's throat.
AS well might some modern Canute
try to stay the tidal waves resistless
force as to struggle for freedom from
that living wise stretched like rubber
about every hairbreadth Of what it en-
quilted. As struggled could feel the
hooked fangs Of my devourer clutch the
buckskin jacket l was wearing, and hold
me like par Of hungry nippers, while
the horrible suction-pump below seemed
to be worked with anxious energy
AS soon as | realized the utter hope
lessness of accomplishing anything by
struggling a complete change came over
me. became as calm and collected as
if there was nothing to be alarmed at in
my pc 'ition. SO cool and philosophical
did l begin to review the situation that
concluded / mus, have suddenly gone
mad.
If there was the slightest hope Of es-
cape, I argued with myself, it would be .
in keeping my presence Of mind and re-
naming perfectly quiet. Every struggle
might make to get loose, would land me
an inch further down into the depths of
the boa's slippery tomb. by bringing into
play the hooked fangs. and arou.ing the
activity Of that horrible suction force
within.
From my schosl-boy recollections of
natural history came the conclusion that
my devourer must have been q good
twenty four hours engulfing me up to
he waist, and that by ,ering a merely
passive resistance might keep my head
and shoulders outside as long as life re-
manned. From the time ! discovered
myself to he in the boa's lethiferous grip
until the above sensible resolve was ar
rived at could hardly have been three
minutes.
For the first time since recovering
consciousness my thoughts now found
opportunity to wander from my own sen
sations, and my first thought was of
Murilla. What had become of him2
Was he, too, being devoured, or was he
already destroyedi A CLEAN of hope
shot through my brain at the query.
Perhaps he is unframed, and when he
RECEIVERS from the Supplying effects of
the berries will be able to render me