‘The battle was obstinate,’ says Le Vaillant, describing one of these conflicts, ‘and conducted with equal address on both sides. The serpent, feeling the inferiority of his strength, in his attempt to flee, and regain his hole, employed that cunning which is ascribed to him, while the bird, guessing his design, suddenly stopped him, and cut off his retreat by placing herself before him at a single leap. On whatever side the reptile endeavoured to make its escape, his enemy was still found before him. Then, uniting at once bravery and cunning, he erected himself boldly to intimidate the bird, and hissing dreadfully, displayed his menacing throat, inflamed eyes, and a head swelled with rage and venom. Sometimes this threatening appearance produced a momentary suspension of hostilities, but the bird soon returned to the charge, and covering her body with one of her wings as a buckler, struck her enemy with the horny protuberances upon the other, which, like little clubs, served the more effectually to knock him down as he raised himself to the blow; at last he staggered and fell, the conqueror then despatched him, and with one stroke of her bill laid open his skull.’
The secretary-eagle has now been successfully acclimatised in the West Indies, where he renders himself useful by the destruction of the venomous snakes with which the plantations are infested.
ADJUTANT.
Gravely, ‘with measured step and slow,’ like a German philosopher cogitating over the nature of the absolute, but, as we shall presently see, much more profitably engaged, the adjutant wanders among the reeds on the banks of the muddy Ganges. The aspect of this colossal bird, measuring six feet in height and nearly fifteen from tip to tip of the wings, is far from being comely, as his enormous bill, his naked head and neck, except a few straggling curled hairs, his large craw hanging down the forepart of the neck like a pouch, and his long naked legs, are certainly no features of beauty. Suddenly he stops, dips his bill among the aquatic plants, and immediately raises it again triumphantly into the air, for a long snake, despairingly twisting and wriggling, strives vainly to escape from the formidable pincers which hold it in carcere duro. The bird throws back his head, and the reptile appears notably diminished in size; a few more gulps and it has entirely disappeared. And now the sedate bird continues his stately promenade with the self-satisfied mien of a merchant who has just made a successful speculation, and is engaged in the agreeable calculation of his gains. But, lo! again the monstrous bill descends, and the same scene is again repeated. The good services of the giant heron in clearing the land of noxious reptiles, and the havoc he is able to make among their ranks, may be judged of by the simple fact, that, on opening the body of one of them, a land-tortoise ten inches long and a large black cat were found entire within it, the former in the pouch, as a kind of stock in trade, the latter in the stomach, all ready for immediate consumption.
The Marabou Storks, though so intensely ugly, furnish in their superb white and downy plumes, which grow under their wings, a highly prized ornament of beauty. To procure these valuable feathers, of which each bird generally yields but four serviceable ones, they are bred in some villages in the neighbourhood of Calcutta, but may also be seen stalking about the streets of the ‘City of Palaces,’ where, on account of their scavenger utility, a heavy fine is imposed upon their destruction.
Brehin, who chased the Marabou on the banks of the White Nile, found him a most provoking game, always regulating his steps after those of his pursuer and keeping at a safe distance of two or three hundred paces. Such is his caution that he places sentinels to give notice of approaching danger, which is the more remarkable as he is one of the most voracious of birds.
Trusting to his agility and the certainty of his eye, the Indian ichneumon or Mongoos attacks without hesitation the most venomous serpents. The cobra, which drives even the leopard to flight, rises before the little creature with swelling hood and fury in its eye; but, swift as thought, the ichneumon, avoiding the death-stroke of the projecting fangs, leaps upon its back, and fastening his sharp teeth in the head, soon despatches the helpless reptile.
The serpents sometimes even feed upon their own brethren. Thus a rat-snake in the Zoological Gardens was once seen to devour a common Coluber Natrix, but not having taken the measure of his victim, he could not dispose of the last four inches of his tail, which stuck out rather jauntily from the side of his mouth, with very much the look of a cigar. After a quarter of an hour the tail began to exhibit a retrograde motion, and the swallowed snake was disgorged, nothing the worse for his living sepulchre, with the exception of the wound made by his partner when first he seized him.
A python in the same collection, who had lived for years on friendly terms with a brother nearly as large as himself, was found one morning sole tenant of his den. As the cage was secure, the keeper was puzzled to know how the serpent had escaped. At last it was observed that the remaining inmate had swollen remarkably during the night, when the truth came out.