While watching this snake-eater over his dinner, one is struck with the remarkable tenacity of life exhibited in the victim, or the slow action of the venom if poisoned in the first grasp. The Ophiophagus seizes it anywhere, that is, at whichever part happens to come first, and then, after holding it quietly for a time, works his jaws up to the head in the usual hand-over-hand, or “jaw-after-jaw” fashion, invariably swallowing the snake head first. On one occasion when I watched attentively, Ophio, having seized a ring-snake by the middle, held it doggedly still for one quarter of an hour, while the lesser snake did its very best to work its way out of the jaws, and also to fetter its captor by twirling itself over his head and coiling round his neck. This continued while Ophio, with his head and neck raised, remained motionless, and after the quarter of an hour commenced to work his jaws up towards the head of the ring snake, which, as more and more of its own body was free for action, twirled itself about, and at length coiled its tail round the bit of branch nailed into the cage.
Persistently, like a sailor making his vessel fast to the windlass, the ring snake lashed as much of himself as was free round the branch a foot off, and so pulled and pulled till he looked in danger of severing himself in two. Meanwhile Ophio, slowly but surely advancing, caused its head and neck to disappear, grasping tightly with his venomous jaws, as if he would say, “We’ll see who is master.” It was a close tussle, so firmly did the little coluber retain his hold on the “tree”; but as the upper part of him was gradually drawn into those unrelaxing jaws, he by degrees gave way, and by and by was gone.
Not far short of an hour was occupied in this meal, during which the victim showed no signs of being poisoned, nor were his coils round the stump relaxed in the slightest degree, till Ophio reached the tail. The ring snake is not a constrictor, yet he thus tied himself round the tree by the coils of his tail.
One more singular case of tenacity of life must be recorded. A ring-snake had been caught in the usual way, and the usual struggle ensued between captor and captive. Coluber, with its head tightly gripped in the jaws of his enemy, had still all the rest of himself at liberty and in full activity, and after wriggling a violent protest, he coiled what was left of himself so closely round the neck of his persecutor that the latter made little or no progress with his dinner for a time. He seemed to be deliberating how to proceed next, and asking, “What is the meaning of this?” then shook his head, lowered it to the shingle, and tried to rub off the coils. The only result thus achieved was that the extreme end of Coluber’s tail was loosened for a moment, but only to coil afresh around Ophio’s jaws, which nevertheless slowly and surely advanced.
For nearly an hour the progress was very slow; but when the ring-snake was nearly all swallowed except a few inches of tail, these became so tight a muzzle that Ophio in turn was the victim. Shaking his head and vainly endeavoring to free his jaws of this muzzle, a minute or two elapsed, during which he seemed to suffer some discomfort, when suddenly his mouth opened widely, and out crawled Natrix, apparently none the worse for this temporary entombment. He had turned round when two or three feet from daylight, and come back to see the world once more. But it so happened that Ophio closed his jaws in time over the few inches of tail which still remained between them. Nor did he once relax his grasp of this, but quickly and patiently began to work his way up to the head and recommence his meal, and this time with better success. An hour and a quarter I watched, nor was any evidence of poison seen, so as to reduce the powers of the bitten snake; for bitten it must have been in those prolonged and forcible grasps.
In these conflicts one could but observe a dogged stupidity on the part of the venomous snake, who, had he but brought coils to his aid, might have simplified matters so easily. The little Heterodons, and even the Lacertines, often assist themselves with coils in managing their prey, though not themselves constrictors; but the venomous ones have not the slightest notion of helping themselves in this way, as if confident that in time their venom would do its work.
