Murtagh was either too long in hearing, or too slow in giving heed to it.

He was a step or two in advance of the others, carrying in his arms some implements from the boat.

In looking around and above he saw the snake sweeping about in its grand circular vibrations, and at the same time perceived that he was within their range.
It was but the simple obedience of instinct to leap to one side, which he did; but as ill luck would have it, hampered by the _impedimenta_ carried in his arms, he came in violent collision with one of the stems of the banyan, which not only sent him back with a rebound, but threw him down upon the earth, flat on his face.

He would have done better by lying still, for in that position the snake could not have coiled around and constricted him.

And the python rarely takes to its teeth till it has tried its powers of squeezing.
But the ship-carpenter, ignorant of this herpetological fact, and as an Irishman not highly gifted either with patience or prudence, after scrambling a while upon his hands and knees, stood once more upon his feet.
He had scarcely got into an erect attitude when his body was embraced by a series of spiral annulations that extended from head to foot--huge thick rings, slimy and clammy to the touch, which he knew to be the foldings of the python.
Had there been any Lanoons, or Dyak pirates, within a mile's distance, they might have heard the cry that escaped him.