30 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 



characters, and it was said of old that they formed 

 the words: 



If I could hear as well as see, 

 No man of life would master me. 



Probably these letter-like markings on the creature's 

 belly, like the minute black lines, resembling writ- 

 ing, on the pale bark of the holly tree, suggested 

 some other more important meaning to the priests 

 of an ancient cult, and gave the adder a peculiarly 

 sacred character. 



To conclude, let me relate here how I once had 

 to congratulate myself on having hurriedly snatched 

 at and captured an adder at the moment of seeing 

 it, and of its attempted escape. I was cautiously 

 strolling along, hoping to see some good thing, in 

 a copse in private grounds in the New Forest, a 

 place abounding in adders and other interesting 

 creatures. Night- jars were common there, and by 

 and by one rose almost at my feet over the roots 

 of an oak tree, and casting my eyes down at the 

 spot from which it had risen, I spied a large adder, 

 which, alarmed either at my step or the sudden 

 flight of the bird, was gliding quickly away over 

 the bed of old dry bleached leaves to its refuge at 

 the roots of the tree. Oddly enough, it was not the 

 first occasion on which I had come upon a night- jar 

 and adder dozing peacefully side by side. It was 

 a beautiful adder of a rich tawny yellow hue, with 

 an intensely black broad zigzag mark, and as 

 there was no time to lose, I dashed at and managed 

 to catch it; then holding it up by the tail, what 



