n.]

[Illustration: HERPESTES VITTICOLLIS.]

I have found universally that the natives of Ceylon attach no credit to
the European story of the Mongoos (_H. griseus_) resorting to some
plant, which no one has yet succeeded in identifying, as an antidote
against the bite of the venomous serpents on which it preys: There is no
doubt that, in its conflicts with the cobra de capello and other
poisonous snakes, which it attacks with as little hesitation as the
harmless ones, it may be seen occasionally to retreat, and even to
retire into the jungle, and, it is added, to eat some vegetable; but a
gentleman, who has been a frequent observer of its exploits, assures me
that most usually the herb it resorted to was grass; and if this were
not at hand, almost any other plant that grew near seemed equally
acceptable. Hence has probably arisen the long list of plants, such as
the _Ophioxylon serpentinum_ and _Ophiorhiza mungos_, the _Aristolochia
Indica_, the _Mimosa octandria_, and others, each of which has been
asserted to be the ichneumon's specific; whilst their multiplicity is
demonstrative of the non-existence of any one in particular on which the
animal relies as an antidote. Were there any truth in the tale as
regards the mongoos, it would be difficult to understand why creatures,
such as the secretary bird and the falcon, and others, which equally
destroy serpents, should be left defenceless, and the ichneumon alone
provided with a prophylactic. Besides, were the ichneumon inspired by
that courage which would result from the consciousness of security, it
would be so indifferent to the bite of the serpent that we might
conclude that, both in its approaches and its assault, it would be
utterly careless as to the precise mode of its attack. Such, however, is
far from being the case: and next to its audacity, nothing can be more
surprising than the adroitness with which it escapes the spring of the
snake under a due sense of danger, and the cunning with which it makes
its arrangements to leap upon the back and fasten its teeth in the head
of the cobra. It is this display of instinctive ingenuity that Lucan[1]
celebrates where he paints the ichneumon diverting the attention of the
asp, by the motion of his bushy tail, and then seizing it in the midst
of its confusion:--

"Aspidas ut Pharias cauda solertior hostis
Ludit, et iratas incerta provocat umbra:

* * * * *

[Footnote 1: The passag