“As I said this, the snake had drawn its body closer to the tree, and raised its flat head up against the trunk, throwing out its tongue as if it was licking the bark.
“The orioles, evidently believing that it was about to climb up, had now descended to the lowest branches, fluttering from one to the other, and screaming all the while either with rage, or terror, or both combined.
“The snake, seeing them approach almost within range of his hideous maw, gathered himself into a coil, and prepared to strike. His eyes scintillated like sparks of fire, and seemed to fascinate the birds; for, instead of retiring, they each moment drew nearer and nearer, now alighting on the ground, then flapping back to the branches, and anon darting to the ground again—as though they were under some spell from those fiery eyes, and were unable to take themselves away! Their motions appeared to grow less energetic—their chirping became almost inaudible—and their wings seemed hardly to expand as they flew, or rather fluttered, around the head of the serpent. One of them at length dropped down upon the ground—within reach of the snake—and stood with open bill, as if exhausted, and unable to move farther. We were expecting to see the snake suddenly launch forth upon his feathered victim; when, all at once, his coils flew out, his body was thrown at full length, and he commenced retreating from the tree! The birds, apparently released from the spell that had bound them, flew up to the higher branches, and ceased their screaming!
“For a while, my companion and I stood silent, wondering at this unexpected termination of the scene.
“‘What can have driven him off?’ asked Frank, turning to me with a look of inquiry.
“Before I could make any reply, an object appeared upon the edge of the thicket which attracted the attention of both of us. It was an animal about the size of a wolf, and of a dark grey or blackish colour. Its body was compact, round-shaped, and covered—not with hair, but—with shaggy bristles, that along the ridge of its back were nearly six inches in length, and gave it the appearance of having a mane. It had very short ears, no tail whatever, or only a knob; and we could see that its feet were hoofed, not clawed as in beasts of prey. But, whether beast of prey or not, its long mouth, with two white tusks protruding over the jaws, gave it a very formidable appearance. Its head and nose resembled those of the hog more than any other animal; and, in fact, it was nothing else than the peccary—the wild hog of Mexico. As it came out from the long weeds and grass, we saw that two smaller animals, of a dark reddish colour—two young peccaries—were following at its heels. Like the opossum, it was a mother and her brood.
“The three soon drew near the pawpaws; and the orioles seeing them, once more set up the scolding concert. But the old peccary paid no attention to the birds. They were nothing to her; and she passed on with her nose to the ground, occasionally stopping to pick up a seed or a nut.
“In going away from the thicket, she crossed the track by which the serpent had retreated. All on a sudden she stopped, tossed up her nose, and scented the air. The fetid smell of the moccason had reached her, and seemed at once to rouse all her energies. She ran for some moments from side to side with her nose to the ground, and lifting the trail like a hound. She first followed it back to the tree, but there was a double trail—that by which the snake had come, as well as the one he had just made in retreating—and this for a moment puzzled her. She took the wrong trail at first, and galloped nimbly out upon it; but, almost in the same breath, returned to the tree, and then started upon the other.
“During all these manoeuvres, the snake was crawling off as fast as he could—which at best was only a very tardy gait, for the moccason is but a slow traveller. We could see that he kept as much as possible under the grass, occasionally raising his flattened head, and glaring behind him. He was making for the cliffs, that were only about a stone’s throw distant.
“He had got scarce half-way, when the peccary running up the fresh trail almost trod upon him; and, seeing the object of her pursuit, she suddenly stopped, erected her long bristles, and uttered a shrill grunt. The snake, finding that he was overtaken, threw himself into a coil, and prepared to give battle; while his antagonist, now looking more like a great porcupine than a pig, drew back, as if to take the advantage of a run; and then halted. Both for a moment eyed each other—the peccary evidently calculating its distance,—while the great snake seemed cowed, and quivering with affright. Its appearance was entirely different from the bright semblance it had exhibited but a moment before, when engaged with the birds. Its eyes were less fiery, and its whole body seemed more ashy and wrinkled.