“‘Surely,’ thought we, ‘he is not going to encounter the rattlesnake—the most terrible of all reptiles.’ But the constrictor understood one chapter of herpetology better than we—for the next moment we saw him drop to the ground; and, almost as quick as thought, appear lapped in sable folds around the speckled body of the ‘crotalus!’
“It was a singular sight to see those two creatures writhing and wriggling over the grass; and it was some time before we could tell how they battled with each other. There was no great difference between them, in point of size. The black snake was longer—by a foot or so—but much more slender in the body, than his antagonist. He possessed, however, an advantage that soon made itself apparent—his activity, which was ten times that of the rattlesnake. We saw that he could easily evolve or wind himself at pleasure around the body of the latter—each time compressing him with those muscular powers which have entitled him to his name ‘constrictor.’ At each fresh embrace, the body of the ‘crotalus’ appeared to writhe and contract under the crushing influence of his sable adversary.
“The rattlesnake had but one weapon, which he could have employed with effect—his fangs. These were already locked in the body of the squirrel, and he could not use them upon his adversary. He could not get rid of that hairy morsel, that, like a barbed arrow, was now sticking in his throat. We could see that the squirrel still remained there; for, as the two reptiles struggled over the grass, its bushy tail was seen waving in the midst of their tortuous contest.
“At length, the battle began to flag. The motions of both combatants waxed slower and slower. We could now see how they fought. We could see—strange it appeared to us—that, instead of battling head to head—face to face—the fangs of the ‘constrictor’ were buried in the rattles of the ‘crotalus!’ Stranger still, the tail of the former rose and fell with a muscular and powerful impetus, whipping the latter to death!
“The contest was soon ended. The rattlesnake lay stretched at full length—evidently dead; while the black constrictor still continued to hug the speckled body, as though it was an object to be loved. This lasted for a moment or so; and then slowly unwinding himself, the conqueror turned round, crawled head to head with his victim, and proceeded to appropriate the prey. The ‘scene’ was over, and we all leaped to our feet to enact the finale. I should have spared the constrictor, after the good service he had done in destroying the rattlesnake; but Cudjo, who hated all sorts of creeping things, was ahead of me; and, before I could come up, I beheld the victor suspended upon his spear!”
Chapter Twenty Five.
The Sugar-Tree.
“In the evening, we returned to our house, carrying with us, on the back of Pompo, a good-sized bag of salt. We had evaporated enough to cure our venison, and to last us for several weeks to come. When it should be used up, we knew where to go for more. There was no danger of the spring going dry. We had noticed, previous to the discovery of the salt creek, that the water of the lake was perceptibly brackish; but we had never reflected on the cause. Doubtless, this fact had prevented us from yearning—as we might otherwise have done—for the valuable substance we had now obtained in such plenty.