nguish the red
iris of his glistening eyes.

Now, for the first time, the snake caught sight of him. Hitherto it had
been too much occupied with its own prey, which it had succeeded in
swallowing. The shadow of the broad wings fell upon the sunlit sward
directly before its eyes. It looked up, and saw its terrible enemy. It
seemed to shiver through its whole length, and turn paler in colour. It
struck its head into the grass, endeavouring to hide itself. It was too
late. The kite swooped gently downward; and, with open claw, poised
himself a moment over the spot. As he rose again, the reptile was seen
wriggling in his talons!

A few strokes of his bold wing carried the kite upward, above the tops
of the tallest trees; but he was observed to fly heavily. As he rose
higher, the flapping of his wings became more hurried and irregular. It
was evident that something was impeding his flight. The snake was no
longer hanging from his talons. The reptile had twined itself around
his body; and its glistening folds, like red bands, could be seen
half-buried in the white plumage of the bird!

All at once the kite began to flutter--then one of his wings
disappeared; and, notwithstanding the hurried flapping of the other,
both bird and serpent fell heavily to the earth!

They fell close to the spot from whence they had risen. Neither was
killed by the fall, nor, to all appearance, hurt; for, the moment after
they had touched the ground, both were seen engaged in a violent
struggle--the bird evidently endeavouring to free himself from the folds
of the reptile, while the latter seemed equally bent upon holding him!
The snake knew well that this was its only hope; for, should it unfold
itself and endeavour to escape, it would only give the kite an
opportunity of clutching it a second time, when he would be certain to
do it with more fatal effect. It was because the reptile had buried its
head in the grass that the kite had failed in seizing it properly by the
neck, and putting an end to it at once.

This, no doubt, was the idea of the snake; but it is probable that its
antagonist at the moment would have been delighted to "cry quits" with
it, for the bird was in a worse "fix" than it was. As things stood, the
serpent had undoubtedly the advantage.

It was likely to prove a protracted struggle; for, although there was
much twisting and wriggling over the ground, and flapping of the odd
wing--that was still free--very