SERPENT FASCINATION. 



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dents in proof of his theory, accompanying them with drawings of the reptile in flagrante 

 delictu* He shows one snake in the attitude, as he believes, of charming a wild-cat; 

 and another when charming a rabbit. In this latter illustration the rabbit certainly 

 looks as though he was fascinated. He believes also that they have this power 

 over man, and adduces several instances in corroboration. And even further, he 

 believes that this power exists in the dead reptile. He sums up his conclusions thus : 

 " The food of the rattlesnake is in a great measure composed of small animals or birds 

 superior to it in fleetness, and it has no power to seize its prey except when it is coiled 

 up, and consequently incapable of giving chase. In addition, the reptile, while 

 attempting to seize its prey, emits a strong odor, which no doubt has a stupefying 

 effect upon its victim. Now, as the rattlesnake never steals upon any object, and is 

 perfectly incapable of seizing its food except when it is coiled up and stationary, how 

 would it ever obtain subsistence if nature had not given it the power to attract its 

 prey within its deadly reach ? Although it is disputed by most naturalists that snakes 

 have the power of fascination, yet to me it seems as if nothing relating to their natural 

 history is more fully substantiated. People living in crowded cities who receive from 

 abroad ' specimens ' preserved in alcohol and bottled, or write dissertations from 

 examination of the 'stuffed skin,' must be assured, from what they see before them, 

 that the power of fascination is a fable; and as doubting is a safe form of unbelief, it 

 is freely expressed. The rattlesnake, nevertheless, has certainly an eye of command 

 as had Napoleon ; and the power of the reptile's gaze is not only acknowledged by 

 the humbler class of animals, but man, with all his superior powers, has felt a thrill 

 of helplessness pass through his soul as he beheld that mysterious eye glaring full 

 upon him. Approach a rattlesnake, and with the first convenient thing dash out his 

 brains; but dare not to make a close examination of the death-dealing object before 

 you. If its spiral motions once find a response in the music tune-markings of your 

 own mind ; if you look into those strange orbs that seem to be the openings into 

 another world ; if that forked tongue plays into your presence until you find it as 

 vivid as the lightning's flash; and, meanwhile, the hum of those rattles begins to con- 

 fuse your absorbed senses, you will be conscious of some terrible danger ; that you 

 stand upon some dread precipice ; that your blood is starting back from your heart ; 

 and you can only break through the charm with an effort that requires the whole of 

 your resolution." 



Paul du Chaillu also — no mean authority on the subject — firmly believes in this 

 power of fascination; and gives an instance in point if "I shall never forget that one 

 day, as I lay ill under that big tree, I spied an enormous snake folded among the 

 branches of another tree not far from me. My attention had been drawn to that tree 

 by the cries of a squirrel. The snake was charming the poor little squirrel. How 

 nice the squirrel was ; how beautiful his little tail ; how black and bright seemed his 

 little eyes. His little feet were moving onward toward the snake ; his little tail was 

 up, and he chippered as he advanced toward certain death. The snake was still as 

 death ; not one of his folds could have been seen moving. How black and shiny the 

 ugly creature was, and what a contrast with the green leaves of the trees. Part of 

 his body was coiled on the limb of the tree. How fixedly he looked on the squirrel. 

 His head was triangular, and he belonged to that family of snakes that spend the 

 * Harper's Magazine, March, 1855. f Wild Life Under the Equator, 161. 



