FASCINATING POWER OF SERPENTS. 55 



birds, supposed to be fascinated, originated in an endeavour 

 to protect their nest or young. 



The rattle-snake does not climb trees ; but many other 

 species do. When a bird sees its well-known enemy gliding 

 up the tree to attack its nest and devour its young, it natu- 

 rally endeavours to defend them ; and she attacks the snake 

 with her wing, her beak, or her claws, and frequently drives 

 it away, although sometimes she approaches so near as to 

 fall a prey to her enemy. This contest is by no means so 

 unequal as might be supposed. The bone on the top of the 

 head of the rattle- snake is thin and brittle ; so much so that 

 it is thought that a stroke from the wing of a thrush or robin 

 would be sufficient to break it. A thrush was observed seated 

 on the back of a large black snake, which it was pecking 

 with its beak. The snake was in the act of swallowing a 

 young bird ; and as soon as the snake was killed, the old bird 

 flew away. The cries and actions of this bird exactly resem- 

 bled those ascribed to fascination. The rattle- snake lives 

 chiefly on the great frog (Rana ocellata), and birds are very 

 rarely found in its stomach. Birds and squirrels are by no 

 means the principal food of serpents ; and yet this influence 

 is chiefly exerted upon them : so it can hardly be considered 

 as designed to secure food for these reptiles. The black snake 

 is often obliged to use great ingenuity to get at his food, 

 which consists chiefly of eggs and young birds. If it pos- 

 sessed the power of fascination, it might secure for itself 

 abundance of food, when the woods are swarming with birds, 

 without having recourse to the artifice of suspending itself by 

 its tail from a bough over a nest, the contents of which could 

 not be reached by it in any other way. 



[It seems strange that this extraordinary faculty should 

 have been ascribed solely to these already formidable reptiles, 

 when the cries of distress and the signs of alarm, which gave 

 rise to the story, are really to be referred to the love of the 

 mother for her young, and to the fear of death ; feelings which 

 must be continually operating in every animal at the sight 

 of another, whose appetite is to be satisfied only by her own 

 destruction. 



Fear sometimes entirely deprives an animal of the power 

 of escape. I have seen a Spanish greyhound so overwhelmed 

 with dread at the sight of a terrier, which was flying at it, 

 that it appeared as if under the influence of fascination, stood 

 perfectly still, neglecting its swiftness of foot, which would 

 soon have placed it out of danger, and would have fallen, a 

 victim to its antagonist, had not the latter been arrested by 

 the blow of a heavy stick.] — From a Correspondent. 



