“Many people believe that this little creature is venomous, and even to touch it or meet its eye is thought to be very dangerous. But its evil reputation is quite undeserved. The slow-worm is really the most harmless of reptiles: it does not even offer to bite in its own defense, but contents itself with stiffening until it is as rigid as a wooden rod. It lives chiefly on beetles and earthworms.
“Now to conclude this brief account of snakes: vipers excepted, not one of our serpents is venomous, none can harm us, the bite of none is in the least dangerous. Snakes do us no injury whatever; on the contrary, they help us by destroying a multitude of insects and small rodents. Let us, then, conquer an unreasonable horror and hatred and suffer these helpers of ours to live in peace.
“Equal consideration should be shown to lizards, those agile hunters of insects and even of small fur-bearing [[270]]game such as rodents. Who does not know the little gray lizard, lover of sunny walls? It lies in wait for flies, darting its tongue in and out as if in play; and it ransacks one hole after another in quest of insects. It is the protector of wall-fruit.
Serpentiform Lizard
“When on a fine spring day the sun shines warm on some wall or hillside, the lizard may be seen stretched out comfortably on this wall or on the new grass covering the hillside. It steeps itself delightedly in the healthful warmth; it shows its pleasure by gentle undulations of its relaxed tail and by its shining eyes; and presently, perhaps, it darts like an arrow to seize some small prey or to find a spot still more to its liking. Far from fleeing at the approach of man, it seems to regard him with friendliness; but at the slightest alarming sound, as the fall of a leaf, it rolls over, falls, and remains motionless for some moments, as if stunned by the fall; or else it darts away, vanishes from sight, reappears, hides again, then comes forth once more, turns and twists until the eye can hardly follow it, folds itself over several times, and finally retires to some shelter to recover from its fright.
“As useful as it is graceful in form, the little gray lizard lives on flies, crickets, grasshoppers, earthworms, and nearly all insects that prey upon our fruit and grain; thus it would be much to our advantage [[271]]if the species were more widely scattered. The greater our supply of gray lizards, the faster should we see the enemies of our gardens disappear.
“The green lizard so common everywhere—in hedges, on the skirts of woods, in thickets having an undergrowth of wild grass—attains a length of three decimeters. The back shows an elegant embroidery of green pearls set off with black and yellow dots. This little creature is marvelously swift of foot, darting into the midst of underbrush and dry leaves with a suddenness that always takes one by surprise and causes at first a little start of fear. When it is attacked by a dog it throws itself at the assailant’s snout and plants its teeth with such determination that it will let itself be carried along and even killed rather than relax its hold. But its bite is not at all venomous; it merely punctures the skin without leaving in the wound any kind of poison. In captivity it becomes very tame, very gentle, and willingly lets itself be handled. Its food consists chiefly of insects.
“The olive-growing districts of France have another lizard, larger, stronger, heavier, and more squat in form than the common green lizard. The people of Provence call it the glass-bead, but scientists give it the name of ocellated lizard from the small black spots scattered like little eyes (ocelli, in Latin) on the bluish-green background of the creature’s back. This lizard haunts dry hillsides exposed to the full heat of the sun. It bores for itself a deep hole in some sandy spot, generally under [[272]]the shelter of a projecting stone. Trusting to its formidable bite, it is very bold. Not only does it leap at dogs’ snouts, but it will even attack man if it finds itself too hard-pressed. This courage has won for it a terrible reputation among country people, who think it very dangerous, more venomous than even the viper.
“Now, Uncle Paul, who knows this lizard as well as he knows the bottom of his own pocket, who has watched its movements for whole days in order to learn its habits, who has examined its teeth very carefully so as to be able to report with authority on its bite, and who has even let himself be bitten by it in order to leave no doubt on the subject—Uncle Paul, I say, declares that this dreaded lizard does not deserve the reputation it bears. It is not venomous in the least; it bites hard, it is true, nipping the skin and even taking away a piece, but without poisoning the wound; in a word, it is no more to be feared than the common green lizard. Its food consists of beetles, grasshoppers, and small field-rats; and therefore, despite the fear it inspires, I have no hesitation in placing the ocellated lizard in the class of helpers.” [[273]]