Swiss Family Robinson Part 35

'May we not attack it, father?' exclaimed the brave boy.

'Only with the greatest caution,' returned I. 'It is far too formidable, and too tenacious of life, for us rashly to attempt its destruction. Thank G.o.d we are at Rockburg, where we can keep in safe retreat, while we watch for an opportunity to destroy this frightful enemy. Go up to your mother now, and a.s.sist in preparing the firearms; I will join you directly, but I must further observe the monster's movements.'

Fritz left me unwillingly, while I continued to watch the serpent, which was of gigantic size, and already much too near the bridge to admit of the possibility of removing that means of access to our dwelling. I recollected, too, how easily it would pa.s.s through the walls. The reptile advanced with writhing and undulatory movements, from time to time rearing its head to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and slowly turning it about, as though on the look-out for prey.

As it crossed the bridge, with a slow, suspicious motion, I withdrew, and hastily rejoined my little party, which was preparing to garrison our fortress in warlike array, but with considerable trepidation, which my presence served in a measure to allay.

We placed ourselves at the upper openings, after strongly barricading everything below, and, ourselves unseen, awaited with beating hearts the further advance of the foe, which speedily became visible to us.

Its movements appeared to become uncertain, as though puzzled by the trace of human habitation; it turned in different directions, coiling and uncoiling, and frequently rearing its head, but keeping about the middle of the s.p.a.ce in front of the cave, when suddenly, as though unable to resist doing so, one after another the boys fired, and even their mother discharged her gun. The shots took not the slightest effect beyond startling the monster, whose movements were accelerated.

Fritz and I also fired with steadier aim, but with the same want of success, for the monster pa.s.sing on with a gliding motion, entered the reedy marsh to the left, and entirely disappeared.

A wonderful weight seemed lifted from our hearts, while all eagerly discussed the vast length and awful though magnificent appearance of the serpent. I had recognized it as the boa constrictor. It was a vast specimen, upwards of thirty feet in length.

I explained to the children that its name in South America is Boaguacu; the first syllable of that name, with the Latin addition, which indicates that it kills its prey by pressure, or 'constriction,'

gives the name by which it is commonly known.

The near neighbourhood of this terrific reptile occasioned me the utmost anxiety; and I desired that no one should leave the house on any pretence whatever, without my express permission.

During three whole days we were kept in suspense and fear, not daring to stir above a few hundred steps from the door, although during all that time the enemy showed no sign of his presence.

In fact, we might have been induced to think the boa had pa.s.sed across the swamp, and found his way by some cleft or chasm through the wall of cliffs beyond, had not the restless behaviour of our geese and ducks given proof that he still lurked in the thicket of reeds which they were accustomed to make their nightly resting place.

They swam anxiously about, and with much clapping of wings and disturbed cackling, showed their uneasiness; finally, taking wing, they crossed the harbour, and took up their quarters on Shark's Island.

My quandary increased, as time pa.s.sed on. I could not venture to attack with insufficient force a monstrous and formidable serpent concealed in dense thickets amidst dangerous swamps; yet it was dreadful to live in a state of blockade, cut off from all the important duties in which we were engaged, and shut up with our animals in the unnatural light of the cave, enduring constant anxiety and perturbation.

Out of this painful state we were at last delivered by none other than our good old simple-hearted donkey; not, however, by the exercise of a praiseworthy quality, but by sheer stupidity.

Our situation was rendered the more critical from having no great stock of provisions, or fodder for the animals; and the hay failing us on the evening of the third day, I determined to set them at liberty by sending them, under the guidance of Fritz, across the river at the ford.

He was to ride Lightfoot, and they were to be fastened together until safely over.

Next morning we began to prepare for this by tying them in a line, and while so engaged my wife opened the door, when old Grizzle, who was fresh and frolicsome after the long rest and regular feeding, suddenly broke away from the halter, cut some awkward capers, then bolting out, careered at full gallop straight for the marsh.

In vain we called him by name. Fritz would even have rushed after him, had not I held him back. In another moment the a.s.s was close to the thicket, and with a cold shudder of horror, we beheld the snake rear itself from its lair, the fiery eyes glanced around, the dark deadly jaws opened widely, the forked tongue darted greedily forth--poor Grizzle's fate was sealed.

Becoming aware on a sudden of his danger, he stopped short, spread out all four legs, and set up the most piteous and discordant bray that ever wrung echo from rocks.

Swift and straight as a fencer's thrust, the destroyer was upon him, wound round him, entangled, 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 ma.s.s: 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 ma.s.s 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 b.a.l.l.s 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 circ.u.mspection, and holding Franz tightly by the hand. 'I was half-afraid to come, I a.s.sure you.'

'See this dreadful creature dead at our feet; and let us thank G.o.d 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 poisonous snakes can be eaten without danger; as, for instance, the rattlesnake, from which can be made a strong and nourishing soup, tasting very like good chicken broth--of course, the cook must be told to throw away the head, containing the deadly fangs.

'It is remarkable that pigs do not fear poisonous snakes, but can kill and eat them without injury. An instance of this occurs to my memory. A vessel on Lake Superior, in North America, was wrecked on a small island abounding in rattlesnakes, and for that reason uninhabited.

'The vessel had a cargo of live pigs. The crew escaped to the mainland in a boat, but the pigs had to be left for some time, till the owner could return to fetch them, but with the small hope of finding many left alive.

'To his surprise, the animals were not only alive, but remarkably fat and flourishing, while not a single rattlesnake remained on the island.