SNAKES.
First Impression of a Tropical Forest—Exaggerated Fears—Comparative rareness of Venomous Snakes—Their Habits and External Characters—Anecdote of the Prince of Neu Wied—The Bite of the Trigonocephalus—Antidotes—Fangs of the Venomous Snakes described—The Bush-master—The Echidna Ocellata—The Rattlesnakes—Extirpated by Hogs—The Cobra de Capello—Indian Snake-Charmers—Maritime Excursions of the Cobra—The Egyptian Haje—The Cerastes—Boas and Pythons—The Jiboya—The Anaconda—Enemies of the Serpents—The Secretary—The Adjutant—The Mongoos—A Serpent swallowed by another—The Locomotion of Serpents—Anatomy of their Jaws—Serpents feeding in the Zoological Gardens—Domestication of the Rat-Snake—Water-Snakes.
On penetrating for the first time into a tropical forest, the traveller is moved by many conflicting emotions. This luxuriance of vegetation revelling in ever-changing forms, these giants of the woods clasped by the python-folds of enormous creepers, and bearing whole hosts of parasites on their knotty arms; this strange and unknown world of plants, harbouring in its impenetrable recesses a no less strange and unknown world of animals, all unite in filling the soul with pleasurable excitement; and yet the heart is, at the same time, chilled with293 vague fears, that mix like a discordant sound with the harmonies of this sylvan world. For in the hollows of the tangled roots and in the dense underwood of the forest a brood of noxious reptiles loves to conceal itself, and who knows whether a snake, armed with poisonous fangs, may not dart forth from the rustling foliage.
Gradually, however, these reflections wear away, and time and experience convince one that the snakes in the tropical woods are hardly more to be feared than in the forests of Germany or France, where also the viper will sometimes inflict a deadly wound. These reptiles are, indeed, far from being of so frequent occurrence as is generally believed; and on meeting with a snake, there is every probability of its belonging to the harmless species, which show themselves much more frequently by day, and are far more numerous. Even in India and Ceylon, where serpents are said to abound, they make their appearance so cautiously that the surprise of long residents is invariably expressed at their being so seldom seen.
Sir E. Tennent, who frequently performed journeys of two to five hundred miles through the jungle without seeing a single snake, never heard, during his long residence in Ceylon, of the death of a European being caused by the bite of one of these reptiles; and in almost every instance accidents to the natives happened at night, when the animal, having been surprised or trodden on, had inflicted the wound in self-defence. Thus, to avoid danger, the Singhalese, when obliged to leave their houses in the dark, carry a stick with a loose ring, the noise of which, as they strike it on the ground, is sufficient to warn the snakes to leave their path.
During his five years’ travels through the whole breadth of tropical America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, M. de Castelnau, although ever on the search, collected no more than ninety-one serpents, of which only twenty-one were poisonous; a proof that they are not more frequently met with in the primitive forests of Brazil than in the jungles of India or Ceylon.
The habits of the venomous snakes, and the external characters by which they are distinguished from the harmless species, likewise tend to diminish the danger to be apprehended from them. Thus, their head is generally flat, broad, lanceolate;294 they have an aperture or slit on each cheek, behind the nostrils, and an elongated vertical pupil like many other nocturnal animals.
They are also generally slower and more indolent in their motions, and thus are more easily avoided. No venomous snake will ever be found on a tree, and on quietly approaching one in the forest or in the savannah, it will most likely creep away without disputing the path, as it is not very anxious uselessly to squander the venom which Nature gave it as the only means for procuring itself food.
‘There is not much danger in roving amongst snakes,’ says Waterton, who, from spending many a month in tropical wilds, may justly be called an excellent authority, ‘provided only that you have self-command. You must never approach them abruptly; if so, you are sure to pay for your rashness; because the idea of self-defence is predominant in every animal, and thus the snake, to defend himself from what he considers an attack upon him, makes the intruder feel the deadly effect of his envenomed fangs. The labarri snake is very poisonous, yet I have often approached within two yards of him without fear. I took care to advance very softly and gently, without moving my arms, and he always allowed me to have a fine view of him, without showing the least inclination to make a spring at me. He would appear to keep his eye fixed on me, as though suspicious, but that was all. Sometimes I have taken a stick ten feet long and placed it on the labarri’s back; he would then glide away without offering resistance. However, when I put the end of the stick abruptly to his head, he immediately opened his mouth, flew at it, and bit it.’ But although accidents from venomous snakes are comparatively rare, yet the consequences are dreadful when they do take place, and the sight of a cobra or a trigonocephalus preparing for its fatal spring may well appal the stoutest heart.
Prince Maximilian of Neu Wied, having wounded a tapir, was following the traces of his game along with his Indian hunter, when suddenly his companion uttered a loud scream. He had come too near a labarri snake, and the dense thicket prevented his escape. Fortunately the first glance of the distinguished naturalist fell upon the reptile, which with extended jaws and projecting fangs was ready to dart upon the Indian,295 but at the same moment, struck by a ball from the prince’s rifle, lay writhing on the ground. The Indian, though otherwise a strong-nerved man, was so paralysed by fear, that it was some time before he could recover his self-possession—a proof, among others, that it is superfluous to attribute a fascinating power to the venomous snakes, as the effects of terror are quite sufficient to explain why smaller animals, unable to flee the impending danger, become their unresisting victims, and even seem, as it were, wantonly to rush upon destruction. Thus Pöppig saw on the banks of the Huallaga an unfortunate frog, which, after being for some time unable to move, at length made a desperate leap towards a large snake that was all the time fixing its eye upon it, and thus paid for the confusion of its senses with the loss of its life.
A poor Indian girl that accompanied Schomburgk on his travels through the forests of Guiana was less fortunate than the Prince of Neu Wied’s companion. She was bitten by a trigonocephalus, and it was dreadful to see how soon the powers of life began to ebb under the fatal effects of the poison. The wound was immediately sucked, and spirits of ammonia, the usual remedy, profusely applied both externally and inwardly, but all in vain. In less than three minutes, a convulsive trembling shook the whole body, the face assumed a cadaverous aspect, dreadful pains raged in the heart, in the back, less in the wound itself; the dissolved blood flowed from the ears and nose, or was spasmodically ejected by the stomach; the pulse rose to 120–130 in the minute; the paralysis which first benumbed the bitten foot spread farther and farther, and in less than eight minutes the unfortunate girl was no longer to be recognised. The same day the foot swelled to shapeless dimensions, and she lay senseless until, after an agony of sixty-three hours, death relieved her from her sufferings.
A great many antidotes have been recommended against serpentine poison, but their very number proves their inefficacy. One of the most famous is the juice of a Peruvian climbing plant, the vejuco de huaco (Mikania Huaco, Kunth), the remarkable properties of which were first discovered by a negro, who observed that when the huaco, a kind of hawk which chiefly feeds on snakes, has been bitten by one of them, it immediately flies to the vejuco and eats some of its leaves.
296 It is a well-known fact that serpentine poison may be swallowed with impunity; it shows its effects only on mixing directly with the blood. A tight ligature above the wound, along with sucking, burning, or cutting it out, are thus very rational remedies for preventing the rapid propagation of the venom. Suction is, however, not always unattended with danger to the person who undertakes the friendly office. Thus Schomburgk relates the misfortunes of a poor Indian, whose son had been bitten in the cheek. The father instantly sucked the wound, but a hollow tooth conveyed the poison into his own body. His cheek swelled under excruciating pains, and without being able to save his son, his own health and vigour were for ever lost. For such are the dreadful consequences of this poison, that they incurably trouble the fountains of life. The wound generally breaks open every year, emitting a very offensive odour, and causes dreadful pains at every change of the weather.
Although all the venomous snakes produce morbid symptoms nearly similar, yet the strength of the poison varies according to the species of the serpent, and to the circumstances under which it is emitted. It is said to be most virulent during very hot weather, when the moon changes, or when the animal is about to cast its skin. The effects are naturally more powerful and rapid when a larger quantity of poison flows into the wound, and a snake with exhausted supplies from repeated bitings will evidently strike less fatally than another whose glands are inflated with poison after a long repose.
Before describing some of the most conspicuous of the venomous serpents, a few words on the simple but admirable mechanism of their delicate but needle-like fangs will not be out of place. Towards the point of the fang, which is invariably situated in the upper jaw, there is a little oblong aperture on the convex side of it, and through this there is a communication down the fang to the root, at which lies a little bag containing the poison. Thus, when the point of the fang is pressed, the root of the fang also presses against the bag and sends up a portion of the poison it contains. The fangs being extremely movable, can be voluntarily depressed or elevated; and as from their brittleness they are very liable to break, Nature, to provide for a loss that would be fatal, has added behind each of them297 smaller or subsidiary fangs ready to take their place in case of accident.
Unrivalled in the display of every lovely colour of the rainbow, and unmatched in the effects of his deadly poison, the bush-master or counacutchi (Lachesis rhombeata) glides on, sole monarch of the forests of Guiana or Brazil, as both man and beast fly before him. In size he surpasses most other venomous species, as he sometimes grows to the length of fourteen feet. Generally concealed among the fallen leaves of the forest, he lives on small birds, reptiles, and mammalians, whom he is able to pursue with surprising activity. Thus, Schomburgk once saw an opossum rushing through the forest, and closely followed by an enormous bush-master. Frightened to death and utterly exhausted, the panting animal ascended the stump of an old tree, and thence, as if rooted to the spot, looked with staring eyes on its enemy, who, rolled in a spiral coil, from which his head rose higher and higher, slowly and leisurely, as if conscious that his prey could not possibly escape him, prepared for his deadly spring. This time, however, the bush-master was mistaken, for a shot from Schomburgk’s rifle laid him writhing in the dust, while the opossum, saved by a miracle, ran off as fast as he could. Fortunately for the planter and negroes, the bush-master is a rare serpent, frequenting only the deepest shades of the thicket, where in the day-time he generally lies coiled upon the ground.
Still rarer, though if possible yet more formidable, is a small brown viper (Echidna ocellata), which infests the Peruvian forests. Its bite is said to be able to kill a strong man within two or three minutes. The Indian, when bitten by it, does not even attempt an antidote against the poison, but stoically bids adieu to his comrades, and lays himself down to die.
The ill-famed wide-extended race of the rattlesnakes, which ranges from South Brazil to Canada, belongs exclusively to the New World. They prefer the more elevated, dry, and stony regions, where they lie coiled up in the thorny bushes, and only attack such animals as come too near their lair. Their bite is said to be able to kill a horse or an ox in ten or twelve minutes; but, fortunately, they are afraid of man, and will not venture to attack him unless provoked. When roused to anger they are, however, very formidable, as their fangs penetrate through298 the strongest boot. One of the most remarkable features of their organisation is a kind of rattle terminating the tail, and consisting of a number of pieces inserted into each other, all alike in shape and size, hollow, and of a thin, elastic, brittle substance, like that of which the scales are externally formed. When provoked, the strong and rapid vibratory motions imparted to the rattle produce a sound which has been compared to that of knife-grinding, but is never loud enough to be heard at any distance, and becomes almost inaudible in rainy weather.
RATTLESNAKE.
Naturalists distinguish at least a dozen different species of rattlesnakes, the commonest of which are the Boaquira (Crotalus horridus), which frequents the warmest regions of South America, and the Durissus (C. durissus), which has chosen the United States for its principal home. The chief enemy of this serpent is the hog, whom it dreads so much that on seeing one it immediately loses all its courage, and instantly takes to flight. But the hog, who smells it from afar, draws nearer and nearer, his bristles erected with excitement, seizes it by the neck, and devours it with great complacency, though without touching the head. As the hog is the invariable companion of the settler in the backwoods, the rattlesnake everywhere disappears before the advance of man, and it is to be hoped that a century or two hence it will be ranked among the extinct animals. The American Indians often regale on the rattlesnake. When they find it asleep, they put a small forked stick over its neck, which they keep immovably fixed to the ground, giving the snake a stick to bite, and this they pull back several times with great force, until they perceive that the poison-fangs are torn out. They then cut off the head, skin the body, and cook it as we do eels. The flesh is said to be white and excellent.
None of the American snakes inhabit the old world, but in the East Indies and Ceylon other no less dangerous species appear upon the scene, among which the celebrated Cobra de Capello is one of the most deadly.
299 As long as it is in a quiet mood, its neck is nowhere thicker than its head or other parts; but as soon as it is excited, it raises vertically the anterior part of its trunk, and dilating the hood on each side of the neck, which is curiously marked in the centre in black and white, like a pair of spectacles, advances against the aggressor by the undulating motion of the tail. It is not only met with in the cultivated grounds and plantations, but will creep into the houses and insinuate itself among the furniture. Bishop Heber heard at Patna of a lady who once lay a whole night with a cobra under her pillow. She repeatedly thought during the night that she felt something move, and in the morning when she snatched her pillow away, she saw the thick black throat, the square head, and the green diamond-like eyes of the reptile advanced within two inches of her neck. Fortunately the snake was without malice; but alas for her if she had during the night pressed him a little too roughly.
This is the snake so frequently exhibited by the Indian jugglers, who contrive by some unknown method to tame them so far as to perform certain movements in cadence, and to dance to the sound of music, with which the cobra seems much delighted, keeping time by a graceful motion of the head, erecting about half its length from the ground, and following the few simple notes of the conjuror’s flute with gentle curves like the undulating lines of a swan’s neck. It has been naturally supposed, before this could be done, that the poisonous fangs had been extracted; but Forbes, the author of ‘Oriental Memoirs,’ had nearly been taught at his cost that this is not always practised. Not doubting but that a cobra, which danced for an hour on the table while he painted it, had been disarmed of its fatal weapons, he frequently handled it to observe the beauty of the spots, and especially the spectacles on the hood. But the next morning his upper servant, who was a zealous Mussulman, came to him in great haste and desired he would instantly retire and praise the Almighty for his good fortune. Not understanding his meaning, Forbes told him that he had already performed his devotions, and had not so many stated prayers as the followers of his prophet. Mahomet then informed him that while purchasing some fruit in the bazaar, he observed the man who had been with him on the300 preceding evening entertaining the country people with the dancing snakes; they, according to their usual custom, sat on the ground around him, when, either from the music stopping too suddenly or from some other cause irritating the snake which he had so often handled, it darted at the throat of a young woman, and inflicted a wound of which she died in about half an hour. That the snake-charmers control the cobra not by extracting its fangs, but by courageously availing themselves of its timidity and reluctance to use them, was also proved during Sir E. Tennent’s residence in Ceylon by the death of one of these performers, whom his audience had provoked to attempt some unaccustomed familiarity with the cobra; it bit him on the wrist, and he expired the same evening.
The deserted nests of the termites are the favourite retreat of the sluggish and spiritless cobra, which watches from their apertures the toads and lizards on which it preys. On coming upon it, its only impulse is concealment; and when it is unable to escape, a few blows from a whip are sufficient to deprive it of life.
It is a curious fact that, though not a water-snake, the cobra sometimes takes considerable excursions by sea. Whe............