Swiss Family Robinson

enfolded, compressed him, all the while cunningly avoiding the convulsive kicks of the agonized animal.
    A cry of horror arose from the spectators of this miserable tragedy. `Shoot him, father! Oh, shoot him--do save poor Grizzle!'
    `My children, it is impossible!' cried I. `Our old friend is lost to us for ever! I have hopes, however, that when gorged with his prey, we may be able to attack the snake with some chance of success.'
    `But the horrible wretch is never going to swallow him all at once, father?' cried Jack. `That will be too shocking!'
    `Snakes have no grinders, but only fangs, therefore they cannot chew their food, and must swallow it whole. But although the idea is startling, it is not really more shocking than the rending, tearing and shedding of blood which occurs when lions and tigers seize their prey.'
    `But,' said Franz, `how can the snake separate the flesh from the bones without teeth? And is this kind of snake poisonous?'
    `No, dear child,' said I, `only fearfully strong and ferocious. And it has no need to tear the flesh from the bones. It swallows them, skin, hair and all, and digests everything in its stomach.'
    `It seems utterly impossible that the broad ribs, the strong legs, hoofs and all, should go down that throat,' exclaimed Fritz.
    `Only see,' I replied, `how the monster deals with his victim; closer and more tightly he curls his crushing folds, the bones give way, he is kneading him into a shapeless mass: He will soon begin to gorge his prey, and slowly but surely it will disappear down that distended maw!'
    My wife, with little Franz, found the scene all too horrible, and hastened into the cave, trembling and distressed. To the rest of us there seemed a fearful fascination in the dreadful sight, and we could not move from the spot. I expected that the boa, before swallowing his prey, would cover it with saliva, to aid in the operation, although it struck me that its very slender forked tongue was about the worst possible implement for such a purpose.
    It was evident to us, however, that this popular idea was erroneous. The act of lubricating the mass must have taken place during the process of swallowing; certainly nothing was applied beforehand. This wonderful performance lasted from seven in the morning until noon. When the awkward morsel was entirely swallowed, the serpent lay stiff, distorted, and apparently insensible along the edge of the marsh.
    I felt that now or never was the moment for attack!
    Calling on my sons to maintain their courage and presence of mind, I left our retreat with a feeling of joyous emotion quite new to me, and approached with rapid steps and levelled gun, the outstretched form of the serpent. Fritz followed me closely.
    Jack, somewhat timidly, came several paces behind; while Ernest, after a little hesitation, remained where he was.
    The monster's body was stiff and motionless, which made its rolling and fiery eyes, and the slow spasmodic undulations of its tail more fearful by contrast.
    We fired together, and both balls entered the skull: the light of the eye was extinguished, and the only movement was in the further extremity of the body, which rolled, writhed, coiled and lashed from side to side.
    Advancing closer, we fired our pistols directly into its head, a convulsive quiver ran through the mighty frame, and the boa constrictor lay dead.
    As we raised a cry of victory, Jack, desirous of a share in the glory of conquest, ran close to the creature, firing his pistol into its side, when he was sent sprawling over and over by a movement of its tail, excited to a last galvanic effort by the shot.
    Being in no way hurt, he speedily recovered his feet, and declared he had given it its quietus.
    `I hope the terrific noise you made just now was the signal of victory,' said my wife, drawing near, with the utmost circumspection, and holding Franz tightly by the hand. `I was half-afraid to come, I assure you.'
    `See this dreadful creature dead at our feet; and let us thank God that we have been able to destroy such an enemy.'
    `What's to be done with him now?' asked Jack.
    `Let us get him stuffed,' said Fritz, `and set him up in the museum amongst our shells and corals.'
    `Did anybody ever think of eating serpents?' inquired Franz.
    `Of course not!' said his mother. `Why, child, serpents are poisonous--it would be very dangerous.'
    `Excuse me, my dear wife,' said I. `First of all, the boa is not poisonous; and then, besides that, the flesh even of