I sighed in relief; scriptural reinforcement of one's natural
instincts is not always forthcoming.

It so happened that I never saw Master at close quarters with a
leopard or a tiger. But a deadly cobra once confronted him, only
to be conquered by my guru's love. This variety of snake is much
feared in India, where it causes more than five thousand deaths
annually. The dangerous encounter took place at Puri, where Sri
Yukteswar had a second hermitage, charmingly situated near the Bay
of Bengal. Prafulla, a young disciple of later years, was with
Master on this occasion.

"We were seated outdoors near the ashram," Prafulla told me. "A
cobra appeared near-by, a four-foot length of sheer terror. Its
hood was angrily expanded as it raced toward us. My guru gave a
welcoming chuckle, as though to a child. I was beside myself with
consternation to see Master engage in a rhythmical clapping of
hands. {FN12-8} He was entertaining the dread visitor! I remained
absolutely quiet, inwardly ejaculating what fervent prayers I could
muster. The serpent, very close to my guru, was now motionless,
seemingly magnetized by his caressing attitude. The frightful hood
gradually contracted; the snake slithered between Master's feet
and disappeared into the bushes.

"Why my guru would move his hands, and why the cobra would not
strike them, were inexplicable to me then," Prafulla concluded. "I
have since come to realize that my divine master is beyond fear of
hurt from any living creature."

One afternoon during my early months at the ashram, found Sri