in the Old World. The word constrictor, indeed, though expressive, cannot be considered as distinctive, for it is equally applicable to all the great species of the Family, signifying, as it does, one that binds tightly in its folds. It was, however, appropriated by Linnæus to the greatest of the American species, individuals of which have been known to attain an enormous length. Shaw mentions a skin of this Boa in the British Museum, which measured thirty-five feet.
Several narratives of personal encounters with the American Boas are on record, all of which are of great interest. Mr. Waterton’s capture of the “Coulacanara,” told in his own peculiarly graphic way, has been often quoted; but we select one less known, yet not less exciting, narrated by a military correspondent of the Edinburgh Literary Gazette.
This gentleman was at the time residing with a friend in British Guiana, and employing himself chiefly in shooting, and fishing in a neighbouring river. One sultry day, tired with unsuccessful sport, he threw his lines, and drew his canoe to the river's edge, for the purpose of refreshing himself in the water. Having done so, he stretched himself, half dressed, on the benches of his boat, with his gun at his head, loaded for a shot if a chance should occur. In this position he fell asleep. “I know not how long I may have slept,” he continues, “but I was roused from my slumber by a curious sensation, as if some animal were licking my foot.[1] In that state of half-stupor felt after immediately waking from sleep, I cast my eyes downward, and never till
- ↑ See remarks on page 167.
