tragedy that would have escaped any but sharp eyes. The snake, which
was itself small, had the fish by the throat, the hold of vantage among
all creatures, and clung to it with great tenacity. The snake knew that
its best tactics was to get upon dry land as soon as possible. It could
not swallow its victim alive, and it could not strangle it in the
water. For a while it tried to kill its game by holding it up out of
the water, but the fish grew heavy, and every few moments its struggles
brought down the snake's head. This would not do. Compressing the
fish's throat would not shut off its breath under such circumstances,
so the wily serpent tried to get ashore with it, and after several
attempts succeeded in effecting a landing on a flat rock. But the fish
died hard. Catfish do not give up the ghost in a hurry. Its throat was
becoming congested, but the snake's distended jaws must have ached. It
was like a petrified gape. Then the spectators became very curious and
close in their scrutiny, and the snake determined to withdraw from the
public gaze and finish the business in hand to its own notions. But,
when gently but firmly remonstrated with by my friend with his walking-
stick, it dropped the fish and retreated in high dudgeon beneath a
stone in the bed of the creek. The fish, with a swollen and angry
throat, went its way also.

Birds, I say, have wonderfully keen eyes. Throw a fresh bone or a piece
of meat upon the snow in winter, and see how soon the crows will
discover it and be on hand. If it be near the house or barn, the crow
that first discovers it will alight near it, to make sure he is not
deceived; then he will go away, and soon return with a companion. The
two alight a few yards from the bone, and after some delay, during
which the vicinity is sharply scrutinized, one of the crows advances
boldly to within a few feet of the coveted prize. Here he pauses, and
if no trick is discovered, and the meat be indeed meat, he seizes it