SHARP EYES. 21 
four inches long. The snake had captured it in the 
pool, and, like any other fisherman, wanted to get its 
prey to dry land, although itself lived mostly in the 
water. Here, we said, is being enacted a little tragedy, 
that would have escaped any but sharp eyes. The 
snake, which was itself small, had the fish by the 
throat, the hold of vantage among all creatures, and 
clung to it with great tenacity. The snake knew that 
its best tactics was to get upon dry land as soon as 
possible. It could not swallow its victim alive, and it 
could not strangle it in the water. For a while it 
tried to kill its game by holding it up out of the 
water, but the fish grew heavy, and every few mo- 
ments its struggles brought down the snake’s head. 
This would not do. Compressing the fish’s throat 
would not shut off its breath under such circum- 
stances, so the wily serpent tried to get ashore with it, 
and after several attempts succeeded in effecting a 
landing on a flat rock. But the fish died hard. Cat- 
fish do not give up the ghost ina hurry. Its throat 
was becoming congested, but the snake’s distended 
jaws must have ached. It was like a petrified gape. 
Then the spectators became very curious and close in 
their scrutiny, and the snake determined to withdraw 
from the public gaze and finish the business in hand 
to its own notions. But, when gently but firmly re- 
monstrated with by my friend with his walking-stick, 
it dropped the fish and retreated in high dudgeon be- 
neath a stone in the bed of the creek. The fish, with 
a swollen and angry throat, went its way also. 
Birds, I say, have wonderfully keen eyes. Throw 
a fresh bone or a piece of meat upon the snow in 
winter, and see how soon the crows will discover it 
and be on hand. If it be near the house or barn, the 
