THE SNAKE-BIRD. 
109 
and as she swims, she wreathes her long neck, 
and, as it rises and falls, you might very well 
fancy it was a snake ; and this is why she is 
called the snake-bird. 
But the naturalist, who is eager to carry 
home a specimen, is never so deceived. He 
has seen her perching on the bough, and marked 
her as his victim. His approach, be it ever 
so cautious, startles her; down she drops, leav- 
ing not a ripple in the pool, and then he 
knows what a hazardous chase is before him. 
He must creep round the pool, up to the knees 
in mud and marsh, regardless of alligators, 
gnats, and mosquitoes, till presently a slender 
bill divides the water, but many hundred 
yards in advance of him, and quite out of his 
reach. If his gun has wounded her as she 
sat upon the bough, she will drop down, and 
make her way, beneath the water, to such 
a distance, that he never sees her again. And 
if she cannot swim far, because of her wound, 
she will clutch, with her feet, the plants at the 
bottom of the pool, and remain there till life 
is extinct. 
The snake-birds are abroad only in the 
day-time ; and return every night to the same 
