Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs -
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putrid pond-like smell wafted out of the conservatory. The agents could just
make out piles of white eggs in the dusty corners, an enormous long-legged
bird lying motionless by the chambers and the body of a man in grey by the
door, with a rifle next to him.
"Get back!" shouted Shukin and began to retreat, pushing Polaitis with
his left hand and raising his revolver with his right. He managed to fire
nine hissing shots which cast flashes of green lightning all round. The
noise swelled terribly as in response to Shukin's shots the whole
conservatory was galvanised into frantic motion, and flat heads appeared in
all the holes. Peals of thunder began to roll over the farm and echo on the
walls. "Rat-tat-tat-tat," Polaitis fired, retreating backwards. There was a
strange four-footed shuffling behind him. Polaitis suddenly gave an awful
cry and fell to the ground. A brownish-green creature on bandy legs, with a
huge pointed head and a cristate tail, like an enormous lizard, had
slithered out from behind the barn, given Polaitis a vicious bite in the
leg, and knocked him over.
"Help!" shouted Polaitis. His left arm was immediately snapped up and
crunched by a pair of jaws, while his right, which he tried in vain to lift,
trailed the machine-gun over the ground. Shukin turned round in confusion.
He managed to fire once, but the shot went wide, because he was afraid of
hitting his companion. The second time he fired in the direction of the
conservatory, because amid the smaller snake-heads a huge olive one on an
enormous body had reared up and was slithering straight towards him. The
shot killed the giant snake, and Shukin hopped and skipped round Polaitis,
already half-dead in the crocodile's jaws, trying to find the right spot to
shoot the terrible monster without hitting the agent. In the end he