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 leveled 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 it tail more fearful by contrast. We fired together, and both balls 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 terrible noise you made just now was the signal of victory," said my wife, drawing near, with the utmost circumspection, and holding Franz tightly by the hand. "I was half afraid to come, I assure you." "See this dreadful creature dead at our feet; and let us thank God 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 among our shells 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 of even 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.