Snake and Sword | Page 9

plan? To attempt gradually to inure him--or to
guard him absolutely from contact with picture, stuffed specimen,
model, toy, and the real thing, wild or captive, as one would guard him
against a fell disease?
Could he be inured? Could one "break it to him gently" bye and bye, by
first drawing a wiggly line and then giving it a head? One might sketch
a suggestion of a snake, make a sort of dissimilar clay model, improve
it, show him a cast skin, stuff it, make a more life-like picture,
gradually lead up to a well-stuffed one and then a live one. Might work
up to having a good big picture of one on the nursery wall; one in a
glass case; keep a harmless live one and show it him daily. Teach him
by experience that there's nothing supernatural about a snake--just a
nasty reptile that wants exterminating like other dangerous
creatures--something to shikar with a gun. Nothing at all
supernatural....
But this was "super"-natural, abnormal, a terrible devastating agony of
madness, inherited, incurable probably; part of mind and body and soul.
Inherited, and integrally of him as were the colour of his eyes, his
intelligence, his physique.... Heredity ... pre-natal influence ... breed....
Anyhow, nothing must be attempted yet awhile. Let the poor little chap
get older and stronger, in mind and body, first. Brave as a little bull-dog
in other directions! Absolutely devoid of fear otherwise, and with a
natural bent for fighting and adventure. Climb anywhere, especially up
the hind leg of a camel or a horse, fondle any strange dog, clamour to
be put on any strange horse, go into any deep water, cheek anybody,
bear any ordinary pain with a grin, thrill to any story of desperate
deeds--a fine, brave, manly, hardy little chap, and with art
extraordinary physique for strength and endurance.
Whatever was to be attempted later, he must be watched, day and night,
now. No unattended excursions into the compound, no uncensored
picture-books, no juggling snake-charmers.... Yet it must come, sooner
or later.
Would it ruin his life?

Anyhow, he must never return to India when he grew up, or go to any
snake-producing country, unless he could be cured.
Would it make him that awful thing--a coward?
Would it grow and wax till it dominated his mind--drive him mad?
Would succeeding attacks, following encounters with picture or reality,
progressively increase in severity?
Her boy in an asylum?
No. He was exaggerating an almost expected consequence that might
never be repeated--especially if the child were most carefully and
gradually reintroduced to the present terror. Later though--much later
on.
Meanwhile, wait and hope: hope and wait....
CHAPTER III.
THE SNAKE APPEARS.
The European child who grows up in India, if only to the age of six or
seven years, grows under a severe moral, physical, and mental
handicap.
However wise, devoted, and conscientious its parents may be, the evil
is great, and remains one of the many heavy costs (or punishments) of
Empire.
When the child has no mother and an indifferent father, life's handicap
is even more severe.
By his sixth birthday (the regiment being still in Bimariabad owing to
the prevalence of drought, famine, and cholera elsewhere) Damocles de
Warrenne, knowing the Urdu language and argot perfectly, knew, in
theory also, more of evil, in some directions, than did his own father.

If the child who grows up absolutely straight-forward, honest,
above-board and pure in thought, word, and deed, in England, deserves
commendation, what does the child deserve who does so in India?
Understanding every word they spoke to one another, the training he
got from native servants was one of undiluted evil and a series of
object-lessons in deceit, petty villainy, chicanery, oppression, lying,
dishonesty, and all immorality. And yet--thanks to his equal
understanding of the words and deeds of Nurse Beaton, Major Decies,
Lieutenant Ochterlonie, his father, the Officers of the Regiment, and
the Europeans of the station--he had a clear, if unconscious,
understanding that what was customary for native servants was neither
customary nor possible for Sahibs....
But he knew too much....
He knew what percentage of his or her pay each servant had to hand to
the "butler-sahib" monthly--or lose his or her place through false
accusation.
He knew why the ayah was graciously exempted from financial toll by
this autocrat. He knew roughly what proportion of the cook's daily bill
represented the actual cost of his daily purchases. He knew what the
door-peon got for consenting to take in the card of the Indian aspirant
for an interview with Colonel de Warrenne.
He knew the terms of the arrangements between the head-syce and the
grain-dealer, the lucerne-grass seller, the ghas-wallah[8] who brought
the hay (whereby reduced quantities were accepted in return for illegal
gratifications). He knew of