There is, however, one venomous snake, of the existence of which I am assured by a native correspondent in Ceylon, no mention has yet been made by European naturalists.  It is called M[=a]pil[=a] by the Singhalese; it is described to me as being about four feet in length, of the diameter of the little finger, and of a uniform dark brown colour.  It is said to be often seen in company with another snake called in Singhalese Lay Medilla, a name which implies its deep red hue.  The latter is believed to be venomous.  It would be well if some collector in Ceylon would send home for examination the species which respectively bear these names.]

[Footnote 3:  See DAVY’S Ceylon, ch. xiv.]

[Footnote 4:  Daboia elegans, Daud.]

[Footnote 5:  Naja tripudians, Merr.]

[Footnote 6:  Trigonocephalus hypnale, Merr.]

In like manner, the tic-polonga, particularised by Dr. Davy, is said to be but one out of seven varieties of that formidable reptile.  The word “tic” means literally the “spotted” polonga, from the superior clearness of the markings on its scales.  Another, the nidi, or “sleeping” polonga, is so called from the fact that a person bitten by it is soon prostrated by a lethargy from which he never awakes.[1] These formidable serpents so infested the official residence of the District Judge of Trincomalie in 1858, as to compel his family to abandon it.  In another instance, a friend of mine, going hastily to take a supply of wafers from an open tin case which stood in his office, drew back his hand, on finding the box occupied by a tic-polonga coiled within it.  During my residence in Ceylon, I never heard of the death of a European which was caused by the bite of a snake; and in the returns of coroners’ inquests made officially to my department, such accidents to the natives appear chiefly to have happened at night, when the animal, having been surprised or trodden on, inflicted the wound in self-defence.[2] For these reasons the Singhalese, when obliged to leave their houses in the dark, carry a stick with a loose ring, the noise[3] of which as they strike it on the ground is sufficient to warn the snakes to leave their path.

[Footnote 1:  The other varieties are the getta, lay, alu, kunu, and nil-polongas. I have heard of an eighth, the palla-polonga.

Amongst the numerous pieces of folk-lore in Ceylon in connexion with snakes, is the belief that a deadly enmity subsists between the polonga and the cobra de capello, and that the latter, which is naturally shy and retiring, is provoked to conflicts by the audacity of its rival.  Hence the proverb applied to persons at enmity, that “they hate like the polonga and cobra.”