192 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 
something be found? Not assuredly in the paper 
the snakist has written, nor in the monographs and 
Natural Histories; where then?—since in the 
absence of the mysterious creature itself it might 
be interesting to read it. 
It is true that in spite of a great deal of bruising 
by Christian heels the serpent still survives in this 
country, although it can hardly be said to flourish. 
Sometimes, walking by a hedge-side, a slight 
rustling sound and movement of the grass betrays 
the presence of the common or ring snake; then, 
if chance favours and eyes are sharp, a glimpse may 
be had of the shy creature, gliding with swift 
sinuous motions out of harm’s way. Or on the 
dry open common one may all at once catch sight 
of a strip of coppery-red or dull brown colour with 
a curious black mark on it—an adder lying at ease 
in the warm sunshine! Not sleeping, but awake; 
a little startled at the muffled thunder of approach- 
ing footfalls, with crackling of dead leaves and 
sticks, as of a coming conflagration; then, per- 
haps, the appearance of a shape, looming vast and 
cloudlike on its dim circumscribed field of vision; 
but at the same time lethargic, disinclined to move, 
heavy with a meal it will never digest, or big with 
young that, jarred with their parent, have some 
vague sense of peril within the living prison from 
which they will never issue. 
Or a strange thing may be seen—a cluster of 
hibernating adders, unearthed by workmen in the 
winter time when engaged in quarrying stone or 
