REPTILES. 389 



the Mississippi; but on the plains they seem to exist in numbers still 

 unreduced. 



The rattlesnakes feed on small birds and mammals which they cap- 

 ture ; and in turn they are preyed upon by various forms. Hogs are said 

 to be especially fond of them ; their hides and thick layers of fat pro- 

 tecting them to a great degree from the reptiles' venom. When a rattle- 

 snake is alarmed, it instantly throws itself into a close coil, the rattle 

 projecting from the centre, and rapidly vibrating, while the head is held 

 aloft in a threatening manner. It is often said that the snake cannot 

 strike except when in this position. This, however, is not true, although 

 the snake usually assumes this favorite posture before the blow is struck. 



As with many another poisonous form, the rattlesnake, in popular esti- 

 mation, is endowed with various remedial qualities. Its poison even enters 

 into the pharmacopoeia of homoeopathic physicians. With this latter we 

 have, however, nothing to do ; but some of the common superstitions are 

 of interest. The oil is highly esteemed as a remedy in cases of fever and 

 rheumatism ; and, says Mr. Ingersoll, in the course of an interesting paper 

 on these animals, "Every summer to this day [1883], the citizens of 

 Portland, Conn., go out to the Rattlesnake Ledges and catch the reptiles 

 with gaff-hooks, the local druggists paying them four dollars an ounce 

 for the oil, which finds a ready sale." Among the other uses to be 

 mentioned are the following : The cast skin and the fat are in repute for 

 curing the bite, — a truly homoeopathic doctrine, — while the rattles are 

 believed by the Indians as well as man} T whites to be of value in parturi- 

 tion, and the dried flesh in curing cases of consumption. There really 

 seems to be but little doubt on one point, — that the flesh is good to eat. 



Another erroneous idea — it can hardly be called a superstition — is 

 that which associates prairie-dogs, owls, and rattlesnakes together in a 

 happy family. The story goes that these three forms live together in the 

 most amiable way in the burrows of the prairie-dogs, — but stop ! Dr. 

 Coues has put the case far better than I can ever do it. He says that " no 

 little pure bosh is in type respecting the harmonious and confidential rela- 

 tions imagined to subsist between the trio, which, like the ' happy family' 

 of Barnum, had Utopian existences. According to the dense bathos of 

 such nursery tales in this underground Elysium, the snakes give their 

 rattles to the puppies to play with, the old dogs cuddle the owlets, and 

 farm out their own litters to the grave and careful birds ; when an owl 

 and a dog come home paw-in-wing, they are often mistaken by their 

 respective progeny, the little dogs nosing the owls in search of the mater- 

 nal font, and the old dogs left to wonder why the baby owls will not nurse. 

 It is a pity to spoil a good story for the sake of a few facts, but, as the 



