THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 39 



jail it snake or devil matters little. I could but ad- 

 mire his terrible beauty, however ; his black, shining 

 folds, his easy, gliding movement, head erect, eyes 

 glistening, tongue playing like subtle flame, and the 

 invisible means of his almost winged locomotion. 



The parent birds, in the mean while, kept up the 

 most agonizing cry, at times fluttering furiously 

 about their pursuer, and actually laying hold of his 

 tail with their beaks and claws. On being thus at- 

 tacked, the snake would suddenly double upon him- 

 self and follow his own body back, thus executing a 

 strategic movement that at first seemed almost to 

 paralyze his victim and place her within his grasp. 

 Not quite, however. Before his jaws could close 

 upon the coveted prize the bird would tear herself 

 away, and, apparently faint and sobbing, retire to a 

 nigher branch. His reputed powers of fascination 

 availed him little, though it is possible that a frailer 

 and less combative bird might have been held by the 

 fatal spell. Presently, as he came gliding down the 

 slender body of a leaning alder, his attention was at- 

 tracted by a slight movement of my arm ; eying me 

 an instant, with that crouching, utter, motionless gaze 

 Thich I believe only snakes and devils can assume, 

 he turned quickly, a feat which necessitated some- 

 thing like crawling over his own body, and glided 

 off through the branches, evidently recognizing in me 

 a representative of the ancient parties he once so cun- 

 ningly ruined. A few moments after, as he lay care- 

 essly disposed in the top of a rank alder, trying to 



