The Boy and the Snake

Stories for Another Day

Once a boy was playing around in the bushes when he disturbed a snake. The snake leapt up and wrapped itself around his arm. At the very last minute, the boy grabbed hold of the snake’s tail.

“I’ve got you!” the boy shouted. “Let go of my arm!”

“No, I’ve got you!” the snake retorted. “Let go of my tail!”

“No! I’ve caught you!” the boy said, and so they went on arguing. Neither would let go and neither would give in.

The funny thing was that neither of them really meant to catch the other. The boy was far too big for the snake to eat, and the boy had no reason to kill the snake. But both of them were afraid to be the first one to let go, because of what the other one might do.

After half an hour of stubbornly arguing and not letting go of each other, and lunchtime getting nearer and nearer, they did the only thing they could both agree on: they went to ask Shukshu, the Old One, who should let go first.

Shukshu, the hawksbill turtle, was the oldest of all the creatures on the land and in the water, and so everyone felt he must be the wisest.

“Tell this annoying child to let go of my tail,” the snake said to Shukshu. Now it wasn’t wise to speak to Shukshu like this, without asking how he was or passing the time of day first, and perhaps offering a small gift, like an orange or a sweet, juicy melon.

“Make this stupid snake let go of my arm,” the boy said, even more rudely.

Shukshu was even more offended, but he said nothing.

The snake naturally thought that Shukshu would be on her side because, after all, they were both cold-blooded. The boy on the other hand expected Shukshu to be on his side, because after all, the snake was a silly female.

“She is hurting my arm,” the boy complained. “I can see it starting to turn purple!” He tightened his grip on the snake’s tail in return.

The snake said, “My tail! My tail! Let go!”

Shukshu said, “You should both let go at the same time. I will count to three, then both of you release the other. One, two, three!” But of course, the boy did not trust the snake so he waited until he could feel the snake’s grip loosen, and the snake did not trust the boy, so she also waited. So neither of them let go.

“Three! I said three!” Shukshu said, getting annoyed.

“I’ll let go if she will,” said the boy.

“I will if he will,” said the snake. They waited, watching each other, but of course neither let go.

Shukshu was getting hungry and and he had no patience for these two foolish creatures. He said, “If neither of you will listen to sense, then let there be a contest between the two of you, and the loser must release the other first.”

“Agreed,” said the two.

“Let it be a running race,” said the boy.

“No! Let’s see who can open their jaw the widest,” said the snake.

“No!” said the boy. The thought of seeing the snake’s fangs made him feel a little green. “High jumping!”

“No!” said the snake. “Spelling!” She was very good at forming letters with her long, lithe body.

“No!” said the boy. In fact, he was a terrible speller. “Arithmetic!”

“No!” said the snake, for sadly, having no fingers, she had never learned to count. “Singing!”

Now singing was something the boy felt he could do, and do well. “Yes, singing!” he said.

“Very well,” said Shukshu. “There will be a singing contest, and the winner will order the other to let go. Agreed?”

“Agreed!” they said.

“Me first!” said the boy, and opened his mouth to sing.

“Wait!” commanded Shukshu, who was, in fact, very wise. “A contest like this deserves a proper stage.”

He took them up to a high, flat rock overlooking the river. “Now, sing,” he said.

The boy sang very nicely, although the snake cheated a little by giving his arm an extra tight squeeze when he was singing his high note, making him squeak. The snake had her turn, and sang very nicely too, for a snake.

Shukshu pondered, then he announced, “The snake is the winner.”

“No!” said the boy. “All she did was hiss!”

“It was better than the noise you made,” the snake said. “It was all yowling!” And they began to argue all over again over who had won the competition.

Finally Shukshu shouted, “Enough!” The noise was giving him a headache, and besides, by now he was very hungry.

“There will be one final competition,” he said. “Flying!” As he said this, he pushed them both off the rock.

The boy scrabbled frantically and grabbed at the trunk of a young tree with both hands. The snake leapt into the tree and wrapped itself around one of the branches. And Shukshu smiled to himself and went off to get his dinner.