`The vessel had a cargo of live pigs. The crew escaped to the mainland in a boat, but the pigs had to be left for some time, till the owner could return to fetch them, but with the small hope of finding many left alive.

`To his surprise, the animals were not only alive, but remarkably fat and flourishing, while not a single rattlesnake remained on the island. The pigs had clearly eaten the serpents.'

`But might not some other cause have been assigned for their disappearance?' asked Ernest. `Suppose, for example, that a great flight of secretary birds had arrived, they might have cleared the island of rattlesnakes.'

`Oh, what is a secretary bird?' interrupted Franz. `I thought a secretary meant a man who wrote letters?'

`So it does, Franz, and the bird Ernest spoke of has curious long feathers projecting from either side of its head, something like pens stuck behind a man's ear; hence its name.

`It is perfectly true that it lives on snakes, lizards, toads, and frogs, but, Ernest, I cannot give up my pigs; for, in the first place, the secretary bird is an inhabitant of Southern Africa, and is never seen in North America, neither does it ever fly in a flock; still, so ravenous is its appetite, that, no doubt, even one or two, had they by some miracle found themselves on Lake Superior, would have been able to give a very good account of the deadly reptiles, and at least shared in the glory of their extermination.'

My wife having gone to prepare dinner, we continued talking as we rested in the shade of some rocks, near the serpent, for a considerable time. The open air was welcome to us after our long imprisonment; and we were, besides, desirous to drive off any birds of prey who might be attracted to the carcase, which we wished to preserve entire.

My boys questioned me closely on the subject of serpents in general; and I described to them the action of the poison fangs; how they folded back on the sides of the upper jaw, and how the poison-secreting glands, and reservoir are found at the back and sides of the head, giving to the venomous serpents that peculiar width of head which is so unfailing a characteristic.

`The fangs are hollow,' said I, `and when the creature bites, the pressure forces down a tiny drop of the liquid venom, which enters the wound and, through the veins, quickly spreads over the entire system. Sometimes, if taken in time, cures are effected, but in most cases the bite of a serpent is followed by speedy death.'

The children were much interested in my account of the snake-charmers of India, how they fearlessly handle the most deadly of the serpent tribe, the Cobra di Capello-or hooded cobra-, cause them to move in time to musical sounds from a small pipe, twine the reptile about their arms and bare necks, and then, to prove that the poison fangs have not been removed, make them bite a fowl, which soon dies from the effects.'