304 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[NOV, 8, 1888, 



THE WAYS OF SNAKES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In the natural history department of your issue of 

 September 13 Mr. N. Starkweather advances a theory in 

 regard to the spring of the rattlesnake, but says that he 

 has never studied them except in captivity. Perhaps the 

 observations of one who lias studied the rattler in his 

 native haunts might be interesting. The notion is com- 

 monly entertained, even by those who live in a rattle- 

 snake country and therefore should be conversant with 

 their habits, 'that they spring from a coil. This is not 

 true, and I feel warranted in asserting that it is utterly 

 impossible for them to make much of a spring from such 

 a position. On the great plains of Nebraska and in the 

 mountains of Wyoming I have frequently teased them 

 with sticks, and from my observations have drawn the 

 following conclusions: That if a rattler coils up he wall 

 not strike, but, if crowded will uncoil and glide away: 

 but if he is closely followed he will crouch or crumple 

 himself up in zig-zag folds, strike viciously, and then 

 draw back for another spring. I have frequently seen 

 them strike three or four times in succession with almost 

 the rapidity of lightning. Then their movements can 

 hardly be followed with the eye. They do not jump, as 

 is generally supposed, but simply straighten themselves 

 out to their full length. Though poisonous in the ex- 

 treme, the rattler is not generally vicious. It is only 

 when crowded that they will turn on a person. At other 

 times, if left to themselves, they will quietly glide away. 

 I am mclined to think, however, that the small rattler of 

 the plains is much more spiteful and vicious than the 

 larger and more sluggish ones that are found in the tim- 

 ber. But we must give them both credit for one thing — 

 they never strike without first sounding their rattle. 

 Many lives have undoubtedly been saved by that feature. 

 But should a rattlesnake lose Ms rattles, which will 

 occasionally happen, he then becomes exceedingly dan- 

 gerous, especially at night. As is generally the .case with 

 venomous reptiles and beasts of prey', their habits are not 

 generally known, as whenever encountered they are im- 

 mediately dispatched instead of being closely* studied. 

 But perhaps it is as well, for we are told that familiarity 

 breeds contempt, and contempt for poisonous reptiles may 

 mean death. 



There has been a story current for many years to the 

 effect that the Indians living between the Cascades and 

 Rockies formerly poisoned their arrows by teasing a 

 rattlesnake until he stung himself to death, then sticking 

 the arrows in his putrid flesh. I confess I am rather 

 skeptical in regard to that. Of course, the bow and 

 arrow have passed out of use, and the old Indians dis- 

 agree a^out it. The testimony of the Indians is unsatis- 

 factory at best, and when they disagree it is rendered 

 the more unreliable. I very much doubt whether the 

 rattlesnake could commit suicide with his own poison. I 

 find that the Indians living further south formerly in- 

 serted their arrows in a piece of liver and allowed them 

 to remain till the liver became thoroughly putrid, and it 

 is very likely the tribes living further north did the same. 



"While discussing venomous reptiles it will perhaps not 

 be out of place to add a little information which seems to 

 me remarkable, and which will be news to nearly all who 

 live east of the mountains. When I arrived on Puget 

 Sound I was informed that there were neither poisonous 

 serpents, insects nor plants on the shores or islands of the 

 Sound. Having never seen a place entirely devoid of 

 poisonous animal or vegetable life I was rather inclined 

 to doubt the assertion, though assured by many old 

 settlers, as well as new, that such was the case. How- 

 ever, a careful investigation since then has convinced 

 me that it is true. In all my hunting and fishing ex- 

 peditions I have never seen a specimen of poisonous 

 reptile, insect or plant. I notice an entire absence of 

 both poison oak and ivy, which I have heretofore en- 

 countered wherever I have been. As far as I can learn, 

 what I have said in regard to Puget Sound also holds 

 true of all the country lying west of the Cascade range. 



La Conner, Washington Territory. JONE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Let me add my mite to the fuud of evidence in favor of 

 snakes swallowing their young. While walking with a 

 companion along a dusty country road we were startled 

 by a cry of, "Oh, come here, and see these little snakes 

 running down the big snake's throat!" The speaker was 

 a young lad who accompanied us. Unfortunately we 

 were too late to witness the swallowing process ; but found 

 the snake, a gartersnake, of say 20in. in length, moving 

 slowly away with the youngsters performing a war dance 

 around it. A blow or two on the head soon ended its 

 crawling, and then out from the wounded neck (or mouth, 

 it is impossible to fay which, as the blow from the stick 

 had changed the neck and head to a shapeless mass) came 

 a number of little snakes, from 3 to 6in. in length. Their 

 movements were so rapid that it was impossible to count 

 them, but that they came from the bruised portion of the 

 snake I could make affidavit, while the youngster is equally 

 willing to testify that he saw them run into che old 

 snake's mouth. Subscriber. 

 Philadelphia, Pa. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Several years ago Mr. A. B. Caswell, then a resident of 

 Wareham and one of the best guides and gunners on the 

 Cape, came across a blacksnake lying stretched out bask- 

 ing in the bright sun, with about thirty small snakes 

 playing about it. So quietly had Mr. Caswell come upon 

 the snake that it had neither seen nor heard him. He 

 watched the sight a moment, then made a slight disturb- 

 ance m the brush at his side. The mother snake imme- 

 diately made some sort of a noise, and Mr. Caswell dis- 

 tinctly saw the young reptiles hurrying into the old 

 snake s open mouth. After all the snakes had sought 

 this refuge, Mr. Caswell killed the old snake and more 

 than thirty little ones were found inside of it. My in- 

 formant, Mr. James A. Caswell, is a resident of this 

 place and an ardent gunner, and a son of Mr. Caswell 

 who figures m the preceding incident. He was kind 

 enough to relate the following also, and as the matter 

 tasated is pertinent to our subject. I give it to you 

 That some snakes lay eggs is definitely settled in Mr.' 

 Caswell s mind, and here is the reason: Some years ago 



Mr. C, who was out following his favorite pastime, came 

 upon a black watersnake in a sunny sand hole. He killed 

 it, and found in the sand about a dozen eggs. He opened 

 the snake and found in the body other eggs at the point 

 of being discharged, and still others in process of forma- 

 tion. 



The item in your issue of Oct. 11, as to the large black- 

 snake killed by your correspondent Chas. L. Norton, led 

 to Mr. Casweil's relating this incident: Some twenty-five 

 years ago he and a companion (Clement Hammond) were 

 traveling over Great Neck, Marion, when their dog, by 

 his excited action around a stone heap, attracted their 

 attention. Caswell, who knew the dog, told Hammond 

 to make ready to kill a snake. They commenced dis- 

 lodging the stones, and finally came upon and killed the 

 reptile. They laid the snake, which was of the common 

 black species, out straight and measured it with a foot 

 rule. It measured, without allowing for contraction of 

 muscles, 7ft. 4in. Its great size attracted much atten- 

 tion, and about everybodv in Marion had a look at it. 



Choke-Bore. 



"Whitaian, Mass. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have read the articles on snakes in your paper with 

 much pleasure, and hope we shall have more of them. I 

 usually spend a few days each spring hunting rattlers 

 and blacksnakes at the dens on Masomsic Hills, in the 

 eastern part of the town of Portland, Conn., and get a 

 few each year. I usually go for them in May. A hot, 

 smoky day is the best. They are then found lying among 

 the dry leaves and are sluggish. I generally shoot them. 

 The largest rattlesnake I have yet killed measured 4ft. 

 liin. in length and nearly 7in. around the body; it had 

 but three rattles, the rest having been torn off. The 

 largest blacksnake yet killed was found at one of the 

 dens, where many rattlers have been killed in years past; 

 it was of the racer variety and measured 7ft. 3in. in 

 length; it was of a bright, glossy color, and probably had 

 shed its old skin but a short time before. This was killed 

 May 22, 1885. I brought it home, and it was afterward 

 given to the Wesleyan University at Middletown, Conn. 



Portland, Conn. C. H, N. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Score another point for Miss Wolcott, on the question 

 of "Snakes and Their Young." One of our village 

 school teachers, Miss H. of Newport, N. H., took tea 

 with us a few evenings since, and inquired particularly 

 for "Sam Lovel," she having been one of the audience 

 to whom I read "Uncle Lisha's Shop," and "Sam Lovel's 

 Camps" last winter. Miss H. expressed a hope tliat Mr. 

 Robinson might give us an account of Sam's expected 

 wedding, such as a country wedding was, in the old days 

 in Vermont 50 years ago. The conversation then turned 

 to the present contents of Forest and Stream, and I 

 told her of the snake controversy. She at once asked to 

 be put on record, in Miss Wolcott s behalf, saying, that 

 when walking with her brother some years since, her at- 

 tention was called by the latter to the roadside, where 

 she distinctly saw two small striped snakes disappear 

 down the throat of an old one, which lay motionless, 

 with mouth wide open, until the last one had disap- 

 peared, and then vanished into the brush herself. Miss 

 H. has no idea how many had preceded the two which 

 she saw, as her mother had been struck by the perform- 

 ance at first and then spoke to her to look at it, but her 

 evidence on the matter is reliable and unquestionable. 



Charlestown, N. Y. Von W. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I was born and reared in central Massachusetts, where 

 blacksnakes were quite common, and the blacksnake 

 with the white ring is no fiction, though they are not as 

 common as the other blacksnakes. The white-ringed 

 snake is more bold, will not run when in close quarters, 

 and many times I have had them dart at me from a coil, 

 and if wounded they will fight as viciously as a rattle- 

 snake. They are a slimmer and longer snake than the 

 common blacksnake, can run faster, but will seldom run 

 when come upon in close quarters; and many people are 

 much afraid of them. If you will take a little trouble 

 and offer a reward you can have a capture made, dead or 

 alive, that will assure you that they have a place in 

 nature if not in natural history. Gr. W. H, 



Sacramento, California. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I dislike snakeB as thoroughly as any loyal daughter of 

 Eve, but as I was so unfortunate as to miss a recent call 

 from your correspondent, Mr. N. Starkweather, of Hart- 

 ford, I will, while the fringed gentians he brought in are 

 still regarding me with their soft blue eyes, take the lib- 

 erty to corroborate the story of Miss Emily M. Wolcott, 

 which is printed in his interesting defense of snakes in 

 Forest and Stream of the Sept. 6 issue. 



One summer day, at my Forest Edge home in West 

 Nortbfield, Mass., a group of young people under an 

 apple tree in the old orchard espied a common striped 

 snake of rather large size lying quietly in the short grass. 

 The customary yell, "A snake! a snake!" brought a brave 

 defender with a croquet mallet, and then and there I saw 

 that mother snake open her mouth and six or seven small 

 striped snakes that we had not observed before ran like 

 a flock down her throat, exactly as chickens run for 

 safety to the shelter of their mother's wings. The snake 

 was killed and the older people came out and witnessed 

 the disgorgement of the interesting family. 



Last summer my husband killed a large checkered 

 adder in the highway near the farmhouse of a neighbor. 

 As he drove away the children ran out to see the dead 

 snake, and a bright little girl of ten told us that when she 

 reached the place there were several little snakes crawl- 

 ing around the large one. She ran after the hired man 

 to continue the slaying process, and when they returned 

 to the place a large adder, the mate evidently, was with the 

 little ones, regarding their defunct relative. 



I have heard my father say that one winter while mov- 

 ing gravel on a hillside for a section of new road in West 

 Nortbfield, Mass,, a large number of blacksnakes were 

 found. When thrown out with the shovel they were stiff 

 like sticks, but after lying in the sun for a little while 

 they would revive and crawl slowly away on the snow. 

 I have myself thawed out mice that were in winter dug- 

 out of a sand bank near my home. One I kept for a long 

 time in a flower-pot in a sunny window and he grew to 

 be quite tame, but one unlucky day the cat, Priseilla, put 



an end to his enjoyment by making a lunch of him. Any ob- 

 servant person living in the country will continually note 

 traits new and strange in the wild creatines about them. 

 And as mice are so much less objectionable than snakes 

 let me tell this. Last winter my husband and I went for 

 a walk to the woods late one bitter cold day. We crossed 

 the fields and woods on the solid snow crust, and the 

 only living creature we saw in our walk was a tiny gray 

 mouse that our beagle. Sancho, surprised, as it was out 

 for an airing. The little thing eluded the dog, and running 

 up a small oak tree hid itself in what seemed to be a 

 bundle of dry leaves, but which on investigation proved 

 to be a curiously constructed nest, soft and warm. I 

 never heard of such a thing before or since, but that poor 

 little waif could not have been a solitary specimen. 

 These are only a few of a large number of "incidents so 

 remarkable in their way as to be worthy of note that have 

 come under my own observation among the animals and 

 birds about my hilltop home. Annie A. Preston. 

 Maple Corner, Willingcon. Conn. 



THE DOMESTICATION OF GAME, 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Few things in connection with natural history have 

 had more fascination for me than the idea of doing 

 scientifically what our remote ancestors must have done 

 in an accidental or haphazard way in domesticating wild 

 animals. What sportsman has not wished as he held in 

 his hand a superb ruff ed grouse or prah'ie chicken, the 

 trophy of his skfll, that this fine bird might be made to 

 lose its fear of man and be induced to add its beautiful 

 presence to the farmyard and lawn. I have often won- 

 dered about the real history of our domestic fowl and ani- 

 mals. Who first, away back in the dim dawn of history, 

 tamed the jungle cock in India or the great islands of 

 the East? Who first overcame the suspicion of the wild 

 burrowing dog of the Asiatic hills and gave to man the 

 most loving and faithful of his animal friends? Who 

 were the first tamers of the wild horses and cattle and 

 sheep? It was one of the first triumphs of man and one of 

 the first steps toward his own kingship of the world. 



It seems as though we ought to know all about some of 

 the most recent of these feats. Who first tamed the wild 

 turkey? It is an American gift to the world. Why was 

 it called "turkey?" Did the Indians of the United States 

 have any domesticated birds of any sort? Did Montezuma 

 or the Incas of Peru have tamed turkeys? 



All these questions come to me with intei est, and I 

 wish some one would answer them for me in your pages. 

 From my earliest boyhood I have had it given out as a 

 truth almost axiomatic that the ruffed grouse could not 

 be domesticated. I have never believed it. I know the 

 wildness of this bird and the behavior of the young chicks 

 in the presence of man. They will hide under leaves 

 when scarce free from then own shells. But in spite of 

 that I have always felt since that the time woidd come 

 when we should have it breeding in confinement and 

 with its feral instincts so modified that it would take its 

 place with the other fowls which we breed and delight 

 in. I have, therefore, for a long time taken the keenest 

 interest in the experiments of your contributor, Mr. J. B. 

 Battelle, of Toledo, and his several times almost scored 

 success in rearing ruffed grouse in confinement. I have 

 enjoyed much correspondence with him and have made 

 many attempts to supply him with birds with which to 

 experiment. Though I have not yet been able to send 

 him a bird I have rejoiced when any one else has done 

 so, and have watched his reports with great interest. 

 When he has succeeded so remarkably in overcoming the 

 shyness of a ruffed grouse as is proved by his letter in 

 Forest and Stream of Oct. 25, it certainly seems as 

 though he needed but the help of a few more birds to 

 give him the triumph which he so much desires and 

 which every sportsman and naturalist must wish to see 

 him achieve. I write in the hope of stimulating the 

 brethren everywhere to be on the lookout and to avail 

 themselves of any opportunity of helping Mr. Battelle to 

 the birds he needs. 



The prairie chicken was also reported to be untamable, 

 but I once saw a pah- of them in a show window on West 

 Lake street, Chicago, which were as tame as barndoor 

 fowls, and walked about and pecked at' their food as un- 

 concernedly in the presence of a crowd as any domestic 

 bird could do. Unfortunately the proprietor of the place 

 proved to be a brutal creature who absolutely refused to 

 answer a single question about the birds. They were, 

 however, silent proofs that the prairie chicken may be 

 tamed. Ebeemee. 



THE EGYPTIAN LOTUS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have read in your paper of Oct. 4 a note respecting the 

 existence in this country of the Egyptian lotus. The 

 writer states that "only two localities are known to fur- 

 nish it, and both of those are near Chicago." 



There is a tide-water stream emptying from the north 

 into the Connecticut River, five or six miles from its 

 mouth. It is two or two and a half miles long, and is 

 known as "Selden's Cove." It heads in a small pond. 



Ou the south side of the str.eam, and, as I remember, 

 about half way down, is a small marsh or pool, reached by 

 boat from the river, and in which I many years ago 

 found what I suppose to be the Egyptian lotus. * 



The leaves were not elevated above the water, but 

 rested upon it, and in some cases were not less than 

 twenty (20) inches in diameter. Their edges reflected up- 

 ward. The flower, as I remember, was of a delicate 

 cream color, and about the size and shape of an ordinary 

 china teacup. A one quart glass fruit jar would in dia- 

 meter just contain one of these flowers. If "H. P. U." 

 and his Pelicans had lighted on the lotus there was small 

 chance of their mistaking it for any one of the more 

 common varieties of the lily. 



I remember also that when in southwestern Missouri 

 some twenty years ago I heard that there was upon a 

 small hill a little pond which contained these flowers. I 

 intended to visit it and make sure, but was unable to do 

 so. The place named was on the Diamond Prairie, not 

 far north of the old Moseley farm, where "Sylvan Lodge" 

 post office was situated. I think it is in Jasper dounty. 



I believe that it will be found that the lotus has a wider 

 distribution than has been supposed, and some of your 

 correspondents may give us further information on the 

 subject. 



I never think of my first visit to Selden's Cove without 

 calling up the vision of a kindly old lady seated next me 



