Dec. 26, 1903-1' 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
BOB 
— -« — 
The *7oint Snake/* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
At last I have obtained a specimen of tlie joint snake 
while in a mood to make a careful examination. I 
never knew, imtil after perusing Mr. Hay's serial on 
reptiles (recently concluded in Forest and Stream) 
that there was any question about the proper classifi- 
cation of the creature; what I supposed was troubling 
people was simply an unbelief in the existence of such 
a creature at all. Mj' former article on snakes was pub- 
lished before I had read Mr. Hay's allusion to a simi- 
lar (but, I now believe. difYerent) reptile. 
Squire Jester, of Wiggs, Ark., captured and sent to 
me the specimen now under consideration. I think it 
is only about half the size of some I have seen. Squire 
Jester says he often finds them in his strawberry patch. 
It is remarkable that he found this one so late in the 
year, especially as we have been enduring some un- 
usually cold weather. But I had offered a reward for 
the capture of a real "joint snake," and nature seems 
to have appreciated my show of enterprise. 
But, to the description: Length, 2$% inches; great- 
est diameter (about one-third of length back from 
head), y% of an inch, with very gradual taper toward 
each end; head, at eyes, one-half of the largest diame- 
ter; nose pointed, tapering, but not sharp; tail tapers 
to very small point. A single row of very fine, short, 
sharp, backward-curving, close-set teeth on each jaw, 
regularly disposed from one corner of mouth clear 
around to the other, i. e., the same in front as at sides 
—no difference in size, length or spaces between. They 
are all so small, however, as to entirely escape the 
notice of the casual obsei-ver — that is to saj-^, in a speci- 
men the size of the subject of this treatise. Eyes 
rather longish, hazel, expressive; more like those of a 
lizard or bird than a snake's — with fine, mobile under 
lid (no upper lid at all), so thin and pale as to appear 
semi-transparent. This feature (lidded, expressive 
eye), is the only unsnakish outer one I can discover. 
Openings about one-third size of eyes, oblong, on a 
line with mouth, I judge to be ears, as I can find no 
passages from them to lungs, and it possesses nostrils — 
though very tiny ones. I at first took them to be gills, 
or remnants of what in its remote ancestors were gills, 
for I believe it may have descended from some sort of 
eel — an eel having a single, shelf-like fin running along 
each side, perhaps in an unbroken line, from mouth to 
tail, and extending slightly beyond the latter. My reason 
for this opinion (which may be of small value) is that 
a shelf of very thin, flat, flexible bone, or cartilage, ex- 
tends all along each side of the spine, outward to the 
skin. 
From an under view the reptile appears perfectly 
round-bodied; but a close inspection from aboA^e re- 
veals that the upper half is composed of very narrow, 
flat sections — about 12, I make out — but, of course, 
there being so many in so small a space, the angles 
are very obtuse, detracting but little from the appear- 
ance of perfect roundness. I consider this a very im- 
portant peculiarity. On each side, a little more than 
half way down, is a sort of seam, or depressed line, 
running straight from corner of mouth back about one- 
third of body (or, to be more exact, 8^ inches), where 
it curves abruptly under to vent. 
Although a dull color, the animal is so glossy and 
shiny as to present a very bright appearance. It is 
striped, as follows: 
On the back a faint, dark-brown one, 3-32 of an inch 
wide, .starting at back of head and continuing, un- 
broken, to point of tail. We'll call this No. i. On 
each side of this, a pale, greenish-yellowish stripe, a 
little more than twice the width of No. i. Next stripe 
befew (No. 3), very distinct, very dark brown (nearly 
black), exactly 1-16 of an inch wide. No. 4, very nar- 
row, less than half of No. 3's width, same color as No. 
2, but looking almost like a white thread between the 
darker colors. No. 5, same as No. 3, but slightly nar- 
rower. No. 6, another fine, whitish line, almost a dupli- 
cate of No. 4. No. 7, like s> but paler, slightly broken 
and indistinguishable forward of the vent; Nos. 8, 9 
and 10 follow the order already given, excepting that 
they become paler as they are lower, 10 being near- 
ly invisible, and 9 and 10 are seen in front of the ab- 
dominal region as well as to the rear of it. At a dis- 
tance sufficient to blend the colors, the general effect 
is a bright, yellowish brown (in sunshine). 
Now I approach, with some diffidence, the most 
wonderful part of the description — the part to which I 
fear I shall be unable to do justice. The joint! The 
joint so different from other joints, in other creatures! 
The magic joint which makes all the difference between 
a monster — a fairy — an enchanted creature — and a plain, 
every-day animal! Indeed, the more I contemplate 
this intricate and novel mechanism, the more I am 
amazed! — the less faith have I left in "human knowl- 
edge"— the less am I sure that anything is impossible! 
I begin to hope we may yet discover a man with wings 
(of his own growing) — or a woman who is willing to 
wear a really becoming hat that is "out of fashion!" 
I regret that I cannot give the number of joints 
(back of the vital regions), as, when I had pulled ofi' 
about twenty (certainly no less), my heart failed me — 
for they curved, wriggled and grasped my fingers de- 
precatingly to the last — although the reptile had been 
arrested, and nearly cut in twain (at the vitals) with a 
lioe, on Monday evening, and this was Wednesdaj^. 10 
A. M., Nov. iS—and it had been in a dormant condition 
until I began to do it violence, and had been exposed to 
freezing cold the night before, the thermometer indi- 
cating only 10 above zero in the morning. I had pur- 
posely kept it out of doors coiled up in a tin can. 
The reason I cannot tell the exact number of de- 
tachable joints is, because they are very difficult to 
force apart (although the queer creature, if only fright- 
ened, or slightly tortured, and not injured, itself throws 
them off with little apparent effort), and I could never 
determine when I held a single joint; for frequently, 
when I believed I had such a small division, it would 
again divide, once, twice, or even thrice! I have rea- 
son for believing, however, that the shortest possible 
section could not be less than three-quarters of an 
inch, from the fact that the projecting points of flesh 
in each section near the middle of the body were one- 
quarter of an inch long, the sockets of equal depth, 
and that would leave but one-quarter of an inch of solid 
flesh between. The points, which are three-sided 
wedges of soft, squirming flesh, always eight in num- 
ber, exactly equal in size, form, and distance apart, 
with, of course, inverted cavities of exactly the same 
shape and diameter between, project at forward end of 
each joint about one-quarter of an inch. The rear 
end of each joint has no projections beyond the skin, 
but its cavities exactly fit the wedges of the fore end- 
of the joint just back of it; and its wedges (which, re- 
member, do not extend beyond the skin), end with 
very fine, curving, thread-like claws of flesh, waving 
about as if trying to grasp their departed sockets to 
take root in them again. 
Let me remark, in concluding, that I observed noth- 
ing that looked like a fracture at any point of parting, 
of either bone or flesh, but that all unjointing seemed 
as regular and natural as if so ordained (although, in 
this specimen, there were very slight stains of blood 
on some of the spinal joints): that the skin, though 
thm, was hard, the scales so small as to be invisible to 
the unassisted eye; that, underneath, the skin opened 
in sharp cross sections or rings, like plows pointing 
backward, after the manner of true snake bellies (by 
means of which they propel themselves swiftly forward, 
though their power to run is a mystery to many people, 
and I once heard Old Uncle Dick Wright settle a con- 
troversy on the subject by simply declaring, "Boys, 
I'll ye— they jest move by faith— that's how!")— that 
I noticed, or felt, a slight, sticky exudation on my 
fingers, though I was careful not to touch anything 
but the skin; and, finally, I have about concluded that, 
after all, the creature may be able, uader favorable con- 
ditions, to again unite its joints, else, why is it so ad- 
mirably formed as if for that very purpose? 
L. R. MORPHEW. 
NOTE BY MR. HAY. 
This very intersting and accurate description evident- 
ly has to do with the common joint snake Ophisaurus 
ventrahs Lmn., but with the western striped variety 
rather than the eastern checkered form. 
The_ existence of this animal and its power to break 
mto pieces has long been known, and unlike the hoop- 
snake and that fabulous snake which jumps or blows 
Its poison many feet in pursuit of its victims, the joint 
snake is represented in scientific collections by numer- 
ous specimens. The classification of the creature is 
not a matter of any doubt. It is a lizard, modified for 
Its peculiar habits by the loss of legs and the develop- 
ment of an unusually long body and tail, as well as by 
certain internal characters. Only by the uninitiated is 
vIa^^^^^^ ^ snake. The lizard characteristics 
lidded eyes, single row of teeth, external ear openings 
etc., mentioned by Mr. Morphew. are always evident, 
but he has tailed to mention the fact that the belly of 
the joint snake is covered with small, overlapping scales 
instead of broad plates, as in the snakes. 
The notes on the character and size of the joints are 
valuable, and are accurate so far as could be determined 
from a single specimen. When a joint snake breaks 
off Its tail (and the tail alone can be broken) the line 
of breakage runs along the natural muscle divisions, 
which, in the lower animals, follow a zigzag course. 
This explains the forwardly projecting wedges of flesh 
mentioned m the description. The point of breakage of 
the spinal column is near the middle of each vertebra, 
where there is a cartilaginous plate, and not between 
the vertebra; as one might suppose at first thought 
the length of the smallest possible section is thus de- 
termined by the distance between these points of weak- 
ness, and this will vary somewhat with the size of the 
animal, being shorter in small and longer in large in- 
dividuals. 
Regarding the power which the animal is supposed 
to possess of reassembling itself after its voluntary 
mutilation, we can only say that anatomists do not 
believe it possible. Mr. Morphew's conclusion that 
the complicated set of wedges and sockets seem adapted 
lor this purpose might as well be met by the opposite 
conclusion, that so complicated a fracture would be 
extremely difficult if not impossible of readjustment 
Nature has_ given the joint snake and the other lizards 
tlie power of growing a new tail after the loss of the 
original part; why has she done so if the animals are 
able to pick up the severed fragments, put them in 
place and crawl away with them? W P H 
The Meadow Lark's Song. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
There vpas a controversy of a friendly nature some- 
months ago between Coahoma and another writer, whose 
nom de plume I forget, in regard to the merits of thv.t 
attractive but fast disappearing habitant of our old fields 
known as the meadow or old field lark. Coahoma took 
the position that this bird had no attractive note or other 
trait or quality entitling it to protection, but that it was a 
fit object, by reason of its tempting flight, upon which 
sportsmen might practice their skill, and its ruthless 
slaughter was not the subject of legitimate criticism. The 
other party to the dispute (wasn't it Didymus?) mod- 
estly defended its claim to protection and consideration. 
_ The position of Coahoma was utterly untenable, and 
It was with surprise and something of regret that I saw 
the position he assumed. The charming letters of Coa- 
homa had often delighted me, and, as a fellow Southerner. 
I felt a certain degree of pride in his articles, and hence 
it_ was with a feeling of disappointment that I perceived 
his heartlessness toward one of the most attractive 
feathered denizens of our old fields. Here in the Old 
Dominion this bird is highly thought of and thoroughly 
protected by law. It is made a misdemeanor to kill him 
at any time. So far from being songless, he has several 
melodious notes of varying accent and pitch. In spring 
time, when his mate is nesting, he will sit upon the top 
of a tree and will utter flute-like strains. 
These notes he will vary in intonations, and by descend- 
ing to a lower key. How often from childhood have I 
watched him in the early morning or after a shower when 
the sun would come out, perched on the top of a distant 
tree, with his yellow breast, in which was a black spot, 
turned toward me, while he would sing his simple but 
sweet lay! 
In that pleasing and well written book, "Bird Neigh- 
bors," this lark is spoken of in the following language: 
"Their clear whistle, 'Spring-o'-the-year, Spring-o'-the- 
year,' rings out from the trees with varying intonation 
and accent, but always sweet and inspiring." 
While I am a constant reader of Forest and Strbam, 
the pressing duties of an active life have prevented my 
writing for it for a long time. Then I am beginning to 
feel alone, so many of my friends associated with it have 
ceased to write and departed hence— among them my 
dear friend and kinsman Wells, and Piseco, the charming 
author of "Men I Have Fished With," Fred Mather, and 
others with whom I had become acquainted through the 
medium of Forest and Stream, to which I have been a 
subscriber for more than twenty years. When I first 
subscribed for it I had just married, and had a bride who 
was still in her teens, and since it has been a weekly visi- 
tor to my house sons and daughters have grown up 
around me, one of the sons being now a member of the 
Virginia Legislature, another a physician in the city of 
Chicago, and the sweet young bride is a gray-haired 
matron. So we all feel toward Forest and Stream as if 
it were an old unchanging friend, whose recurring visits 
wc all look forward to with pleasant anticipation. 
M. OF Northside. 
Virginia. 
Hawk, Owl, Crow. 
The great footed hawk or peregrine, is but an infre- 
quent visitor to this locality, although he inhabits the 
whole of North and South America. The peregrine 
has powerful feet and talons, and is a relentless enemy 
of the whole wild fowl family, and will even boldly at- 
tack a sandhill crane or Canada goose. They are also 
gluttonish in their appetite for quail and chicken, as 
well as all kinds of game birds, but are so scarce even 
where the most common that the harm they do is in- 
consequential, and there is no especial call for their 
destruction. 
The owls are a group of birds not to be confounded 
with any other. They have the features of their family 
indelibly stamped upon them, and by people generally 
they are associated almost wholly with the night time, 
but this does not hold good with many of them, nor 
do they all inhabit old hollow trees in the deep woods. 
The fact is, the owls vary much in their habits, as 
might readily be understood, as they are to be found 
from one end of the globe to the other. That they 
are a family of almost incalculable benefit to mankind, 
instead of being an injury and a drawback, is something 
that no even fairly well posted ornithologist will at- 
tempt to deny. That they do once in a while attack 
poultry, pigeons and game birds is of no significance 
whatever, when the immense number of rats and mice 
they will kill and devour is taken into consideration. 
It will be scores of years yet, however, probably, be- 
fore the average farmer and gunner will appreciate the 
truth about these valuable birds, but the time will come 
when they will receive at the hands of our law makers 
the attention and the protection they deserve. Until 
the prevailing ignorance as to their real worth is over- 
come, the birds will have to continue, I suppose, to 
take their chances, but I earnestly hope and pray that 
extermination will not overtake them before the happy 
day of their recognition arrives. The owl is truly a 
sadly maltreated bird. By the average man he is looked 
upon as a tenant of the deepest woods, whose nocturnal 
gloom is rendered denser and more awe-inspiring by 
the ghostly dissonance of his voice. In poetry, from 
time immemorial, he has been regarded as the con- 
comitant of darkness and evil, but when you become ac- 
quainted with the family you will know that there are 
many who have no connection with these associations 
whatever; birds that frequent the open instead of bury- 
ing themselves in the tenebrious recesses of the wilder- 
ness: make their home within the earth and who de- 
light to bask in the pure air and genial sunshine of our 
free prairies. This species of the owl is found all over 
Nebraska and on all the plains between here and the 
Pacific coast, and from the Canadian boundaries to 
the southern borders of old Mexico. That old fairy 
tale about these owls residing amicably in the same 
hole with rattlesnakes, badgers and prairie dogs is as 
ridiculous as the ancient hoopsnake chestnut. Just last 
night Florence P. Day told me that he killed "a rattle- 
snake out in Arizona last July with a full-grown prairie 
dog in its stomach. 
The snowy owl is a magnificent bird. He is cir- 
cumpolar, but occasionally straggles down as far as this 
State. They hunt principally by day or in the early 
twilight and subsist almost entirety upon fish. But, as 
they visit this neck of the timber so infrequently, they 
hardly merit mention in this paper, and I speak of 
them briefly simply to show in what a silly prejudice 
they and their kind are held. 
The great horned or Virginia owl is the wisest and 
noblest looking of the tribe, but like the Arctic owl is 
so rarely encountered out this way, that to treat him 
exhaustively would be a waste of space in this con- 
nection. He is a nocturnal bird and haunts the woods 
and lives much in hollow trees. His vocal abilities are 
celebrated wherever he is known, and by weak minded 
people believed to be a sound of evil omen. His de- 
structive propensities are confined to rabbits, rats and 
mice, and hence the legendary old hooter deserves no 
place under the sportsman's ban. Neither do we have 
out here, in any conspicuous abundance, any of those 
little gray and brown" owls, who are so common back 
in the Middle States. They are harmless. They rest 
by day in the hollow apple trees, and always toohoo- 
0000 when the sun goes down, but few realize, or ever 
will, what blessings these little feathered clowns Idb- 
stow upon the farmers, who, to a man, almost, perse- 
cute them remorselessly. The dear little fellows only 
