boughs, and traversing with marvelous celerity the whole length and
breadth of the thicket, was truly surprising. One thinks of the great
myth of the Tempter and the "cause of all our woe," and wonders if the
Arch One is not now playing off some of his pranks before him. Whether
we call it snake or devil matters little. I could but admire his
terrible beauty, however; his black, shining folds, his easy, gliding
movement, head erect, eyes glistening, tongue playing like subtle
flame, and the invisible means of his almost winged locomotion.

The parent birds, in the mean while, kept up the most agonizing
cry,--at times fluttering furiously about their pursuer, and actually
laying hold of his tail with their beaks and claws. On being thus
attacked, the snake would suddenly double upon himself and follow his
won body back, thus executing a strategic movement that at first
seemed almost to paralyze his victim and place her within his grasp.
Not quite, however. Before his jaws could close upon the coveted prize
the bird would tear herself away, and, apparently faint and sobbing,
retire to a higher branch. His reputed powers of fascination availed
him little, though it is possible that a frailer and less combative
bird might have been held by the fatal spell. Presently, as he came
gliding down the slender body of a leaning alder, his attention was
attracted by a slight movement of my arm; eyeing me an instant, with
that crouching, utter motionless gaze which I believe only snakes and
devils can assume, he turned quickly,--a feat which necessitated
something like crawling over his own body,--and glided off through the
branches, evidently recognizing in me a representative of the ancient
parties he once so cunningly ruined. A few moments after, as he lay
carelessly disposed in the top of a rank alder, trying to look as much
like a crowded branch as his supple, shining form would admit, the old
vengeance overtook him. I exercised my prerogative, and a