They are slender for their length, which may be from three to five feet, of an inconspicuous colour, but with two black lines on each side, running the whole length of their body; hence their name, ‘four-lined,’ or ‘four-rayed.’ In the present instance, there were in the same cage three of these, also one young royal python, one small common boa, and one ‘thick-necked tree boa’ (_Epicratis cenchris_), all constrictors. The day was close and warm for April, and the snakes, reviving from their winter torpor, seemed particularly active and lively. Probably they had not fed much of late, and thought now was their opportunity, for the keeper no sooner threw the birds—finches, and plenty of them for all—into the cage, than there was a general scuffle. Each of the six snakes seized its bird and entwined it, then on the part of the reptiles all was comparatively still. The rest of the poor little birds, fluttering hither and thither, were, however, not disregarded, for although each snake was constricting its captive, several of them captured another bird by pressing it beneath them, and holding it down with a disengaged part of themselves. One of the four-rayed snakes felt its held-down victim struggling, and instantaneously a second coil was thrown round it. Then another caught a second bird in its mouth, for its head and neck were not occupied with the bird already held, and in order to have coils at its disposal, slipped down its first captive, or rather passed itself onwards to constrict the second, the earlier coils not changing in form in the slightest degree, any more than a ring passed down a cord would change its form. The next moment I saw one of those two hungry ones with three birds under its control. It had already begun to eat the first, a second was coiled about eight inches behind, and a good deal of the posterior portion of the reptile was still disengaged when a bird passed across its tail, and instantly that was captured. All this was done by a sense of feeling only, as the snakes did not once turn their heads. Two of these ‘four-rayed’ snakes were so close together, so rapid in their movements, so excited and eager for their prey, that which of them first began his bird, and which one caught the third, it is impossible to affirm confidently. Whenever either of them was in the same position for one quiet minute, a few hurried strokes of the pencil fixed them in my notebook, and of the hasty though faithful sketches thus made, I present three to the reader on the opposite page. April 1st, 1881.—After this date nothing more was to be seen! Henceforth visitors were to be excluded, and the reptiles were to be fed _after sunset_.