"But," said Franz, "how can the snake separate the flesh from the bones without teeth? And is this kind of snake poisonous?"
"No, dear child," said I, "only fearfully strong and ferocious. And it has no need to tear the flesh from the bones. It swallows them, skin, hair, and all, and digests everything in its stomach."
"It seems utterly impossible that the broad ribs, the strong legs, hoofs, and all, should go down that throat," exclaimed Fritz.
"Only see," I replied, "how the monster deals with his victim; closer and more tightly he curls his crushing folds, the bones give way, he is kneading him into a shapeless mass. He will soon begin to gorge his prey, and slowly but surely it will disappear down that distended maw!"
The mother, with little Franz, found the scene all too horrible, and hastened into the cave, trembling and distressed.
To the rest of us there seemed a fearful fascination in the dreadful sight, and we could not move from the spot. I expected that the boa, before swallowing his prey, would cover it with saliva, to aid in the operation, although it struck me that its very slender forked tongue was about the worst possible implement for such a purpose.
It was evident to us, however, that this popular idea was erroneous.
The act of lubricating the mass must have taken place during the process of swallowing; certainly nothing was applied beforehand.
This wonderful performance lasted from seven in the morning until noon. When the awkward morsel was entirely swallowed, the serpent lay stiff, distorted, and apparently insensible along the edge of the marsh.
I felt that now or never was the moment for attack!