Unlike Us, Snakes Don't Fight

Last week, I was in the garden when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I turned to look and there it was; a snake with a flying lizard in its mouth. The snake was about five feet long, brown in colour with a golden strip on its side running the length of its body. It was inside the drain with its head raised high and it obviously had seen me too and looked unsure of what to do next. I stepped back to allow it to enjoy its meal undisturbed.

Now the lizard was a permanent resident in my garden, often hiding among the sugar cane, lily, hibiscus and morning glory plants. Sometimes it would also be in my chiku tree or my flowering bauhinia bush. At times, it would even come right up to my door! Friendly chap, this lizard.
It was about seven inches long, thin, golden brown in colour with a fine long tail. It had a thin web that connects its front leg with its back leg on both sides of its body and it actually glides rather than fly. I had seen it once gliding from the tall trees on the hill that faces my house onto the bauhinia bush in my garden.
I had tried to chase it away but it always returned. Maybe it likes me but I think it likes the other visitors to my garden even more – the bees, butterflies, ants, dragon flies, ladybirds, etc. Well, this morning it had finally left but my guess is, its cousin would soon be around.

The snake reminds me of another encounter I had some time back. Once I had seen two pythons mating! These were huge and they were “standing” about six feet tall, facing each other with their mouths interlocked like a dancing couple kissing. They were moving sideways with such speed and force that the small trees and shrubs in the clearing, the size of two basketball courts, were all crushed and broken. This went on for about an hour! Can they be fighting? No! I don’t think so because their “dance” looked very much like the Tango – besides, unlike us, snakes don’t fight. At least, not much.

My house is at the foot of a number of hills. The land used to be a rubber estate through which runs a small stream, shaded by the tall rubber trees. It was in this cool and fast-flowing stream that, a long time ago, my brother and I caught the Tiger Barb fish and the “Kwachi” fish. The Tiger Barb is a diamond – shaped fish with red fins and vertical black lines along its body rather like the stripes of a tiger. The “Kwachi” is a slim and silvery fish with a triangular purple patch at the rear end of its body. We were kids back then and we sure enjoyed ourselves – swimming, camping, climbing trees, climbing hills, fishing, etc. Sigh … Those were the days.
In the nearby hills was another rubber estate. On a few occasions, I had followed the rubber tappers when they went to work early in the morning when it is still dark. Every one of them had a lamp on their heads and they headed up the hill in groups, singing Chinese love songs at the top of their voices, before splitting up with each of them tapping rubber in a certain area, still singing. In the darkness, I can see the light of their lamps bobbing around like fireflies and I can hear their songs resounding through the hills. I don’t think I can ever forget this tremendous spectacle!
I believe the singing is to frighten away the wild animals such as tigers, wild boars, snakes, civet cats, etc that may have stolen into the estate from the neighbouring hills during the night and to let each other know that they are alright.

Alas, the rubber estate is no more and has been replaced by a housing estate and the hills are now covered by roof-tops instead of tree-tops. Rows of houses now stand where once were rows of rubber trees. And, the kid who once roamed these hills has now become an old man.