“Its chief food consists of larger prey, which calls for the use of its venomous weapon. Small field-rats, field-mice, meadow-mice, moles, sometimes frogs and even toads, are its usual victims. The animal attacked by the reptile is first stung with the venomous fangs, whereupon it is immediately overcome with agony. As soon as the prey is dead the viper twines its folds about the lifeless body, squeezes it tightly, and subjects it to a sort of kneading process in order to make it smaller; for the victim must be gulped down in one mouthful even if it exceeds the serpent itself in size. This preparation finished, the gullet opens to its utmost width and the two jaws, seeming almost to fly apart, seize with their sharp teeth, which point backward toward the throat, the head of the mole or field-mouse or whatever the small game may be. A flow of saliva then streams over the body to make it slip down more readily, but it is so large a mouthful that the viper manages to swallow it only by a violent effort. The throat dilates and contracts, the jaws move alternately from right to left and from left to right, to coax the unwieldy mass downward, and so it is that this laborious swallowing is protracted sometimes for hours, sometimes for a whole day. Indeed, it not seldom occurs that the forward half of the prey is already undergoing digestion in the stomach while the hind quarters still stick in the throat or protrude from the mouth. “Let us pass on to the common snakes. These have no venomous fangs in the jaw; their teeth are small and even and lacking in strength, useful as an aid in holding the captured prey and helping in the swallowing of it (which is as difficult as with the viper), but incapable of inflicting a serious wound. These creatures, too, are extremely timid, fleeing at the slightest alarm; but if retreat is cut off they put on a bold front to impose on the enemy, coiling themselves in a spiral, erecting the head, swaying this way and that, hissing, and trying to bite. There is no need, however, to be afraid; a scratch of no more importance than a pin-prick would be the worst that could befall one. You would suffer far greater injury by thrusting your hand into a bramble-bush.” “If it isn’t any more dangerous than that,” Jules declared boldly, “I shan’t mind taking up snakes in my hands.”