Original subtitles

A very long time ago, when I was 20, I was working for a large company out in

East Africa in Dar es Salaam.

And one morning, while I was shaving in the bathroom, I happened to glance out

of the window at the gardener who was raking the gravel on the driveway down

below.

Behind him, right at that moment, I saw a black mamba, six feet long, moving

over the gravel toward him.

Look out, Ndisho, I yelled. Behind you, a snake.

He swung round.

Too late.

The mamba bit him on the ankle.

I got him to hospital in ten minutes, but he died that day.

The krait, K -R -A -I -T, is another of the killer snakes.

And this one is almost more frightening than the mamba because he is so tiny.

He looks like a twig on the ground.

This story is about a krait.

Understand Amara.

Better than the whole world without India.

Harry Pope was on the wagon and doing very well. He hadn't touched the drop

three weeks.

He'd just been asked by Cable from his boss in Melbourne a very serious

question.

In accordance with the revised policy, which jobs in his English teaching

department could now be Indianized? That is handed over to trained Bengali

teachers.

Harry had Cable back immediately with just one word, mine.

He hated India.

Cutting out the drink was all part of the plan for a new, rejuvenated Harry

Pope. Vital, dynamic, and posted home at last.

It's nightingales, and our garden is India.

Handle the way!

All right, Sandra!

Why not?

Tell Bobby Timberwood to take me home.

Tell me, why'd they call you Timber? Because my name is Woods.

I'm so glad you won.

How's Harry? Don't worry, he'll be fast asleep.

I thought you were taking me home, darling.

I am, by way of the bungalow, darling.

You bachelor, so wild.

Not a care in the world.

So Harry's going home to England then?

Mm -hmm.

Changed man. Hasn't touched a drink for three weeks.

Resisting temptation.

Unlike some, I'm glad to say.

You said he'd be asleep.

Shh. We sit all night.

What about a nice drink?

Lovely. Good.

Timber.

Timber.

Shh. Did you hear something? No, no, no. Listen.

Timber.

Sounds ill.

Don't say he's gone back to the bottle. Oh, darling, take no notice. Wait a

minute.

Timber, come here.

Quiet. Timber, for God's sake.

Sounds bad.

You haven't been drinking, have you?

What's up?

You look terrible.

Don't move.

Take your shoes off.

Oh, I get it.

Take your shoes off.

You mustn't move.

Timber? Oh, slowly.

How long are you going to be?

Who's that?

Sandra. Oh, great.

Tell him who I am.

Please.

I suppose he's drunk again.

Not so far, Hunter.

Just look at him. I am. Awful. Like Bobby after squash.

Right, Harry.

Now, what is the problem?

A crate.

Snake. I knew that.

Get your shoes off.

Get some ice out of there.

A real boy scout.

What is the matter with you?

Can't you guess?

Heaven's sake.

That is stupid thinking you can do something for a crowbird.

A little cat stuck up a poison.

Make -believe. They're fatal.

Well, what do you suggest?

Do you need adoption, of course?

Sandra, you're brilliant. I'll ring Dr. Kunzler. No.

Why not? Because he knows me.

He'll see me and he'll tell my husband.

Well, you'd better go then, hadn't you? Before he comes.

How? I can't walk.

Oh, hell. Take that through and put it on his forehead.

We've got the doctor coming, Harry.

Dr. Kunzru.

Lord! For God's sake, can't you even... I'm doing my best.

Dr.

Kunzru, Timberwoods.

It's an emergency.

Yes, Harry.

Harry Pope.

A crite.

No, he hasn't been bitten yet.

Timber says I have to put this on your forehead.

No.

Nothing.

Please. Yes, yes. It's on his stomach.

Yes, good.

Fine.

Right.

He says he doesn't want the ice.

Come on, Harry, it'll do you good. No. I'll cool you down. Don't.

I need a drink.

I'm not a bloody night nurse. Never was and never will be.

Don't.

I wouldn't disturb it. I promise you.

You damn fool.

The light would frighten it.

It's dark under there now.

Amber?

I'll get rid of her.

Just hold on.

The doctor's coming soon.

Darling, you need a drink.

I don't.

And nor do you.

That's what you think. I need something.

Sandra.

Oh, look what I've done.

Oh, God, I'm such a mess.

Thank God the doctor's here. No, don't forget.

He mustn't see me. For God's sake, Sandra.

I am not here.

Now I'm driving home. Bloody well, stay here.

Doctor. Has he been bitten yet? No. Good. Then it's hope.

Don't worry, Mr. Pope.

There is plenty that can be done.

It is quite a simple matter, but don't.

Good. Very good.

You're an excellent fellow.

Now, with the theorem in the book, you're all right,

even if you are bitten.

yet. I'll be back in just two ticks.

We talk here, yes? No, no. The kitchen.

But the serum must give some protection, surely?

Yes, it might. It might not.

You mean your serum is no bloody good? Mr. Woods.

The crite is possibly the most poisonous snake in the world. And there it lies

on his stomach. If it bites him there, it goes straight to his bloodstream.

We must try and think of something else.

Well, we pull the sheet back fast and... No, no, no, no.

It is not a matter to be gone into a board -headed.

Well, we must do something. I mean, he's been lying there for hours.

Paper. A piece of paper. Yeah.

Make a funnel, you know.

We introduce an anesthetic to the creature where it lies.

Splendid and excellent idea.

No, but it's not such a splendid idea because, as you know, a snake is a cold

-blooded animal and it won't work quickly enough.

Chloroform, Will.

Chloroform. And you have chloroform? Yes, in my bag. So you get the paper,

The paper, please.

Good, fine.

Later. Later.

Look, Bobby will be going crazy. Soon, soon. Please drive me home.

Don't do it, I dare you. Of course I do.

Later, for God's sake.

More speed, less haste, Mr. Pope.

Three minutes, Rafa.

Okay.

Don't move, mister.

Where?

We must be careful. It could be anywhere. It could have gone inside his

Stay still.

The last.

It's gone.

It's bloody gone.

Are you certain you saw it, Mr. Pope?

Yes, under the sheet. I felt it.

It's gone.

It's a miracle.

You didn't dream it, Mr. Pope?

You're calling me a liar?

Harry, for God's sake.

You dirty little sewer covercher.

Take it easy, Harry.

You bloody failed M .D. Calcutta. That's quite enough.

You're telling me, you native bloody wizard, that I imagined it?

Or dreamt it?

Or drank too much?

I'm afraid there's been a bit of a mix -up.

Well, good night to you both. Excuse me.

Doctor, there's something I must explain. Please don't.

Mr. Pope has made himself quite clear.

I thought I'd left my keys here.

No, perhaps in the car.

Yes, I came so quickly.

My car! It's gone!

Exactly, that's what I was going to say. I can't drive without my car.

It's my life, blood.

You know, cars are dearer than gold here. Don't worry.

Don't worry.

I know where it is. But, Mr. Wood... I'll drive you.

Doctor, I must apologize for Harry.

You did an excellent job.

Thank you.

Thank you.

And I'm not a failed M .D.