Ill-tempered and hanging from a tree, a giant anaconda staring with lidless round eyes watched closely as the sun flickered off hair the color of copper. The troll canoeing in his lake had caught his attention. The snake had been trying without much luck to digest an unlucky deer captured the night before. Instead of enjoying himself basking in the warm sun, he was having a difficult time thinking of anything other than his stomachache. Now, here was this troll on his lake!
The previous evening, the “king of snakes” had been especially hungry. Cleverly camouflaged in green and blackish-brown and with a perpetual smile on his face, the serpent had lain in wait. His patience finally paid off when he sensed the body heat of a lone deer.
With strong jaws and a talent for surprise attack, there was simply no escape once the anaconda looped several muscular coils around the deer’s middle and began to squeeze. Each time the deer would breathe out, he squeezed ever tighter—unable to catch his breath, the deer suffocated.
Every self-respecting anaconda swallows its prey head first. The limbs of the deer, or possibly a tasty troll, fold neatly inward rather than creating an obstacle that leads to stomachache. Nevertheless, on this particular evening he was fueled by a voracious appetite. Ignoring fifty-eight million years of evolution in the proper way to eat a deer, he wrapped his extended jaws around, of all places, the feet of the deer. Swallowing slowly, and with the help of back-slanting teeth, the young snake worked his way to the deer’s head.
Now, the sight of this red-haired troll on his lake made him forget his indigestion. He had only one thought in his small, primitive brain and that was to capture his favorite food—troll meat. He carefully measured the troll’s size, all the while taking comfort in puffs of flatulence as his long flickering tongue hissed a sigh.
With his mind made up and his stomachache forgotten, he ever so slowly uncoiled his prehensile tail and lowered his forty-foot body down from the tree. He silently slid to the edge of the lake, gliding into the deep, murky water with barely a sound or ripple. The creature had eyes and nostrils that sat high on its wicked skull. The water boa could breathe, smell, and still see his prey as he moved through the dark water. Keeping most of his body hidden, he swam sinuously toward the troll’s canoe.
Odin and Manti, still preoccupied with the chilling memory of the female oil trolls and their hunting ritual, were unaware of the anaconda’s spiritless eyes watching them. The sun sparkling off the water’s surface obscured Punga’s vision of the approaching snake’s rhythmic movements.
Punga was first to spot the triangular head and several feet of an undulating green body headed toward the bow of the canoe. He jerked on Odin’s beard to get his friend’s attention. Odin watched the serpent’s sleek body, rising and falling in the water. He was trying hard to control the fear in his voice as he warned Manti of the great snake that was just about to ruin their day.
Though her eyesight was bad, Manti could still see the approaching water snake. She was confident of her own powers and did not share Odin and Punga’s fear. The bog witch knew she was smarter than a simple-minded snake!
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
In the opossum-skin pouch that hung from her neck, she kept dried plants and remedies for all occasions. With little time for her glasses, she could only feel for the fuzzy leaf of the turkey mullein; one leaf was enough. She pulled out two horse chestnuts for their trace of soap juice. To make the recipe complete, she added just a pinch of powdered ghost berries and butterfly peas. She rubbed the ingredients together in her rough palms to make a concoction that would stupefy the anaconda, but not harm him.
As Manti calmly worked on her potion, Odin and Punga watched as the snake dived down and disappeared in a flurry of foam, descending deeper into the black water. Frothy bubbles rushing against the canoe hid the bone-crushing boa. Odin and Punga feared that at any moment the snake would rear his ugly head and capsize their small canoe. The young mountain troll broke out in a cold sweat. How could they escape the anaconda once they were in the water? Odin could swim, but what would happen to Manti and Punga? An eerie silence swept over Odin and Punga as they helplessly waited.
Manti, ignoring her panicked friends, sprinkled the mixture into the bubbling water surrounding the canoe. Quickly, the potion spread atop the water.
Odin and Punga watched the surface of the water for what seemed an endless time. A dark shadow moved along the side of the canoe. The sly boa poked his narrow head atop the black water. His large nostrils opened to capture their scent, while his cold- blooded eyes caught and held Odin’s eyes for a split second. Odin felt his knees weaken as he returned the stare.
The impulsive young snake was determined to eat the troll bobbing about on his lake. After slowly circling the canoe, the boa suddenly plunged forward for an attack. But before he could do so, in what appeared to be slow motion, the anaconda fell backwards. Fighting the effect Manti’s potion had on his body, the king of snakes coiled then uncoiled; trembling, he passively rolled into helplessness. Floating on the surface of the shifting water, the snake was now as tranquil as a lone water lily.
If not for the small space in the canoe, Odin would have dropped to his shaking knees in thankfulness for the albino witch and her potions.
Both Manti and Odin were determined to keep the magnificent snake alive; there was no reason to kill this creature just for the sake of killing. With Punga safely wrapped in Odin’s hair, they slipped carefully from the canoe into the dark water. Manti moved effortlessly as the water supported her crooked body. Odin listened to the witch and worked with her to find a clever way to keep the great snake buoyant so it would not drown. They pulled the anaconda through the water to the mouth of a shallow cave at the water’s rocky edge.
Manti could see, from the bulge in the snake’s gut, that he had recently consumed a deer and swallowed the unfortunate creature feet first. The wise witch knew that if the anaconda did not digest his food, he could die from the bacteria. She again reached into her opossum-skin bag for dandelion leaves to cure his indigestion. Manti and Odin placed the potion into the snake’s flaccid mouth. She had learned the habits of snakes that creep into the bog’s murky waters. Manti was sure the anaconda, once he regained consciousness and was again his crotchety self, would slither up a nearby tree and end his stomachache by basking in the warm sun.
Manti was relieved to be on solid ground. The canoe’s rocking movements and her struggle with the anaconda’s bulky length made her old body ache. Entering the forest, they trotted a safe distance from the sullen snake before Manti had to sit and rest. By now, dusk had fallen and the sunless forest spread out before them. The threesome watched mesmerized as blinking pastel lights darted amidst the black tree trunks.