A very remarkable instance of a constricting snake thus using its coils is related by Dr. Elliott Coues, of the United States army, late surgeon and naturalist to the United States Northern Boundary Commission. He witnessed one of those frequent combats between the Racer and the Rattlesnake, in which the former—and in far less time than it takes to read one line of this page—threw two folds or coils round his adversary, one coil of the anterior portion of his own body round one part, and a second coil of the posterior portion of his own body round another part, and then, by a sudden extension of himself, tore the rattlesnake in halves. And this was done with greater ease and swiftness than we could snap a thread which we must first secure round the fingers of our two hands. As if indeed possessed of two hands, the constrictor snapped his foe in twain. This is Lawson’s ‘Whipster,’ p. 182. The coiling of the constricting snakes is like lightning; you cannot follow the movements. In this case death must have been instantaneous, and indeed it is doubtful whether any beast or bird of prey puts his victim to a more speedy and less torturing death than the constrictors when following their own instincts. Repairing to the Zoological Gardens in the hope of witnessing the wonderful adaptation of coils to manual uses, after reading what Roget and Owen had affirmed, one soon had a favourable opportunity in watching a python. It was, I think, in June 1874, and the poor python had a ruptured side. In spite of which—as my zoological notes record—‘it helped by the folds of its body to get the wings of the duck down flat and close, so as to swallow it more easily. With reason does Roget say, “Its whole body is a hand,” for it used its loops to hold and to push and to flatten in a manner truly intelligent.’ Such was my first entry and observation. Subsequently, and indeed almost on every feeding day, the same kind of thing was to be seen at the Gardens. Many such examples are recorded in my notebook; but of these one or two later notes will suffice to illustrate the subject. [Illustration: ‘Totsey,’ a python born in the Gardens, June 30, 1877, taking her supper, Sept. 24, 1880.]