SOME SUMMER DAYS IN MARTINIQUE. 293 
thirty miles in width, are free from this scourge. Nay, 
more; it is recorded that, during the wars between 
the English and Caribs, in the last century, the Lance- 
head was carried to the islands just named, but could 
not be made to live. 
Annually, during the crop season, many laborers 
are killed in each island, for this snake has its hiding- 
places in the canes as well as in the forests. It has 
been so abundant in this garden that the pleasant 
walks and shady drives are nearly always deserted. 
A serpent over seven feet in length, killed in the gar- 
den, is shown in the Museum. There is, it is said, 
no antidote for its bite; though the ever-traditional 
old negro, living in some secluded spot, with herbs 
and antidotes, likewise exists here. He is never found 
when needed, however. The poison is quickly fatal, 
and decomposition rapidly follows. A gentleman, 
whose father was once a wealthy planter in St. Lucia, 
and had many slaves, told me that an antidote that 
generally proved efficacious if used immediately, was 
forty grains of quinine in the juice of two lemons; in 
extreme cases he administered a glass of olive oil and 
rum, and used the vapor bath. The remedy used in 
the South, when bitten by the rattlesnake — whiskey, 
all that the patient can drink — seems useless here. 
The dread of this serpent is universal. It seems to 
possess a hatred for man; and it is seriously avowed - 
by the natives that it will lie in wait for an oppor- 
tunity to inflict death. The country people live in 
continual trepidation, and very few of them will ven- 
ture from their houses after dark, even in the suburbs 
of the city. 
Martinique is the largest of the Lesser Antilles, 
