other gush of venom was injected, though in diminishing volume, into the kingsnake's veins. But he knew also that the kingsnake, by a strange provision of nature, is utterly unaffected by the poison, and from the first he had little doubt as to the issue of the combat.
Yet, for a while, the issue was in doubt; for, although the rattler's poison availed him nothing, the piercing and slashing power of his weapons might well have won the battle before the life was crushed out of him by the increasing constriction of his enemy's slim coils. This was the kingsnake's one weapon—the muscular force of his body. He had strangled many snakes before this—for he fought for the love of fighting as well as for food; but never before had his coils gripped so huge a serpent; and though his wire-like muscles strained and tightened to the utmost limit of their strength, his glittering armor was flecked with crimson in a score of places before the rattlesnake weakened perceptibly.
When at last the contortions of the splendid body, swollen so as almost to hide the slender black cord wound tightly around it, had slackened to a slow, mechanical writhing to and fro, the negro spat upon the ground and cursed delightedly.
"It's all over but de shoutin', Sonny," he said to the boy. "De kingsnake strangle um an' break he rib. But I don' t'ink he gwine ter eat um, 'cause
