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Story
July 7, 1898
Turner County Herald
Hurley, Turner County, South Dakota
What is this article about?
In Burma, a man named R.A. narrowly escapes a poisonous snake bite when the reptile strikes his shirt cuff instead of his hand in a dark bedroom, leaving poison on the fabric but no injury.
OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
An Inch from Death.
We were sitting on the veranda of our bungalow one evening in far-off Burmah, R. A. and I, enjoying our after-dinner cheroot. The waters of the bay lapped lazily at the sands at our feet, for our house was "builded on the sands" of the shore. All the world seemed at peace, only the plunk! plunk! of the monotonous night bird in the jungle, and the occasional weird note of the jackal, signaling in the distance to his comrades, were heard.
The moon had come up from behind a rocky island just over in the bay, and spread a flood of golden-yellow light over the silver-topped breakers, rolling in over a neighboring coral reef. It was so calm and beautiful that it seemed that all that was wicked and bad had gone out of the world, and yet death lurked just at my friend's elbow, as he puffed unconsciously at his cheroot.
We had been discussing in a leisurely manner something that had happened at home. To prove some point my friend arose, and stretched himself lazily, sauntered into his bedroom to get a paper bearing on the matter we had been discussing. Usually lights were placed in all the bedrooms, but this evening, for some unaccountable reason—probably the moonlight—the servant had not performed his duties.
I could hear my friend fumbling about on his dressing-table, and then suddenly gave a quick cry of horror and rushed out to the light.
"I have been struck by a snake," he gasped, and his face was deadly pale.
"Where is it? Quick! Show me!" I exclaimed, as I whipped out a knife.
He held out his right arm. There was no mark on the hand, which I examined critically, but on the cuff of the shirt were two tiny scratch-like punctures, and two little globules of poison sinking into the starched linen, and leaving a sickly, greenish yellow mark.
"You've had a close call, old man," I exclaimed, with a great sigh of relief. "and I think you need a peg to brace up your nerves, but first let us settle the snake."
We found him coiled up on a small mirror which lay on the table, and an ugly looking customer he was, too ready to strike again.
He was a very poisonous snake known as the Deboae Russelli, but after my friend had finished with him, it would have been difficult for any naturalist to have placed him in his proper genus.
We were sitting on the veranda of our bungalow one evening in far-off Burmah, R. A. and I, enjoying our after-dinner cheroot. The waters of the bay lapped lazily at the sands at our feet, for our house was "builded on the sands" of the shore. All the world seemed at peace, only the plunk! plunk! of the monotonous night bird in the jungle, and the occasional weird note of the jackal, signaling in the distance to his comrades, were heard.
The moon had come up from behind a rocky island just over in the bay, and spread a flood of golden-yellow light over the silver-topped breakers, rolling in over a neighboring coral reef. It was so calm and beautiful that it seemed that all that was wicked and bad had gone out of the world, and yet death lurked just at my friend's elbow, as he puffed unconsciously at his cheroot.
We had been discussing in a leisurely manner something that had happened at home. To prove some point my friend arose, and stretched himself lazily, sauntered into his bedroom to get a paper bearing on the matter we had been discussing. Usually lights were placed in all the bedrooms, but this evening, for some unaccountable reason—probably the moonlight—the servant had not performed his duties.
I could hear my friend fumbling about on his dressing-table, and then suddenly gave a quick cry of horror and rushed out to the light.
"I have been struck by a snake," he gasped, and his face was deadly pale.
"Where is it? Quick! Show me!" I exclaimed, as I whipped out a knife.
He held out his right arm. There was no mark on the hand, which I examined critically, but on the cuff of the shirt were two tiny scratch-like punctures, and two little globules of poison sinking into the starched linen, and leaving a sickly, greenish yellow mark.
"You've had a close call, old man," I exclaimed, with a great sigh of relief. "and I think you need a peg to brace up your nerves, but first let us settle the snake."
We found him coiled up on a small mirror which lay on the table, and an ugly looking customer he was, too ready to strike again.
He was a very poisonous snake known as the Deboae Russelli, but after my friend had finished with him, it would have been difficult for any naturalist to have placed him in his proper genus.
What sub-type of article is it?
Extraordinary Event
Survival
Curiosity
What themes does it cover?
Misfortune
Survival
Fate Providence
What keywords are associated?
Snake Strike
Near Death
Poisonous Snake
Burma
Bedroom Incident
Deboae Russelli
What entities or persons were involved?
R. A.
I
Where did it happen?
Far Off Burmah, Veranda Of Bungalow By The Bay
Story Details
Key Persons
R. A.
I
Location
Far Off Burmah, Veranda Of Bungalow By The Bay
Story Details
While relaxing on the veranda in Burma, R.A. enters a dark bedroom to fetch a paper and is struck by a poisonous snake, but it hits his shirt cuff instead of his hand, leaving poison on the fabric; the snake is killed.