M. De Vaillant, a famous French traveller, gives an account of a remarkable engagement, of which he was a witness, between a falcon and a snake. The falcon is the chief enemy of the serpent in all the countries which it inhabits, and the mode in which it wages war with it is very peculiar. When the falcon approaches a serpent, it always carries the point of one of its wings forward, in order to parry off its venomous bites. Sometimes it finds an opportunity of spurning and treading upon its antagonist, or else of taking him upon its pinions, and throwing him into the air. When, by this system, it has, at length, wearied out its adversary, and rendered him almost senseless, it kills and swallows him at leisure. On the occasion which Vaillant mentions, the battle was obstinate, and conducted with equal address on both sides. The serpent, feeling at last his inferiority, endeavored to regain his hole; while the bird, apparently guessing his design, stopped him on a sudden, and cut off his retreat, by placing herself before him at a single leap. On whatever side the reptile endeavored to make his escape, the enemy still appeared before him. Rendered desperate, the serpent resolved on a last effort. He erected himself boldly, to intimidate the bird, and, hissing dreadfully, displayed his menacing throat, inflamed eyes, and a head swollen with rage and venom. The falcon seemed intimidated for a moment, but soon returned to the charge; and, covering her body with one of her wings as a buckler, she struck her enemy with the bony protuberance of the other. M. Vaillant saw the serpent at last stagger and fall. The conqueror then fell upon him to despatch him, and with one stroke of her beak laid open his skull. [Illustration] The Papyrus. In a former number of the Museum we gave some account of the _Papyrus_, a kind of three-cornered reed which grows in Egypt, and from the pith of which the ancients made thin paper. We give a cut representing some of these reeds growing in the edge of the water. They are still to be found in the environs of Damietta, and on the banks of Lake Menzaleh, and nowhere else in Egypt. Perhaps the reason of this is, that, formerly, the government, in order to have a monopoly of the making of paper, caused it to be pulled up and eradicated in many parts of Egypt, and only allowed it to grow where its preparation could be superintended.