FOREST AND STREAM 
Aug. 19, 1905.] 
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Hunting Snakes. 
“For persons who enjoy snake stalking,” said Curator 
1. L. Ditmars, who has conducted expeditions for 
lakes on behalf of the New York Zoological Park, in 
le Bronx, “I can recommend certain parts of South 
arolina above any other section in the United States, 
or example, a four-mile swamp near the little town of 
.obertsville, in Hampton county, is a snake’s paradise, 
ortions of the swamp are overgrown with huge rushes 
id portions with canebrake dovetailing into pine 
vamps, the trees running forty feet up to the first 
mb and hang tliick with green moss. Trees, ground 
id water are alive with reptiles. 
“Snake hunting is as fascinating as deer stalking, es- 
scially to a man who finds some meaning in every 
ind on a pit viper’s back. No moose was ever more 
;ady to take alarm than, are these slippery quarries, 
[id to land a bagful of valuable snakes is a task that 
nils for adroitness mingled with a high, quality of 
> jrseverance. 
4“Night is the very best time for catching snakes, for 
I is then that the serpent, tribe uncoil themselves and 
ide about the swamp in perfect freedom. Obviously 
is sort of thing is not without danger, and after one 
ial of it, the snake hunter usually prefers daylight. 
I the moonlight a haze floats above the swamp, and it 
;s like a silvery sea. Within it, the pines are ghosts 
«hose long beards sweep the pools, diamond-backed 
tittlers rear their ugly heads, racers, moccasins, and 
({range pink water snakes glide noiselessly, and alli- 
itors keep up their loud uncanny bellowing and make 
iC air heavy with their musky odor. 
(“In daylight the hunter rides in mounted on a mule 
ually and clad in an armor of heavy brown duck, 
gh top boots, and stout flexible gloves. His weapons 
e a bamboo stick. with a running noose of fine copper 
ire at the _ end, and a second cane furnished _ with a 
ire net. He alwa,ys carries a revolver, too, if he is 
^se. 
“Across the mule’s back is balanced a short cane 
ick, and from each end of the stick dangles a. good- 
^ed cotton bag. These bags are for the snakes. The 
ule sagaciously picks his way through the swamp 
ong deer paths which wind in and out, where a 
ngle misstep would often tumble him and his rider 
To a pool swarming with alligators and water snakes. 
i“A snake stalker, of course, attempts to take only 
ne more valuable and strange species of serpents. 
Zhen he catches the gleam of the right sort of a coat 
i 'rough the rushes, or spies a fine specimen dangling 
om a limb over his head, he halts and goes into 
tion with his copper-wire noose and bamboo stick, 
he can, he slips the noose over the snake’s neck and 
mws it taut. Then he gets the thrashing, spitting rep- 
|e ’twixt thumb and forefinger around the neck and 
Bops him. into the cotton bag. Invariably in a crisis 
Je hunter throws away copper wires and seizes a 
feake with his hands, grasping him well toward the 
|ad, so that he cannot twist around and thrust his 
^ngs into his hands. 
i“A rattlesnake is fairly easy to capture, because he 
consummately brave, never runs from an enemy, and 
^s warning rattle is unmistakable. Skirt the borders 
i a palmetto thicket any day and watch the wavering 
^ladows of the foliage on the ground. Presently these 
iadows, if you watch sharply, seem to dart ahead in 
({straight line, with, a brassy whirr coming from some- 
ihere. The darting line is a diamond-backed rattler, 
I hose curiously marked skin is in exact imitation of the 
dmetto shade. The diamond-backed is the most 
■adly of his tribe. In the west the varieties of rattlers 
ere found inhabit barren rocky places and the tall 
•asses of the prairies. Just now the rattlesnake is 
mted mercilessly, for he is valuable to the medical 
j,an for his toxines and to the naturalist because out of 
Se eleven species in the United States, the . habits and 
I'jks of not more than five are well known.” 
^Continuing, Mr. Ditmars said that some snakes are 
S)od actors, at least some- snakes which he met in 
Ij)uth Carolina. One of those captured, was a hog-nose 
hake. It was captured near a cottonfield, and . it at 
.{ice attempted to deceive its captor by. pretending it 
|is dead. Then, if undisturbed, it would show how a 
1 'e snake acted when he was not trying to fool any- 
d}c In playing dead the snake .aptua,lly rolled 
jer on its back and returned - to ..r that position 
ien if disturbed and placed on its- sides or belly. Mr. 
litmars told a number of colored men near where it 
jis captured that he would show them what wonder- 
1 ^1 control he had over snakes. He would first make 
i^eral passes with his hands over the snake and it 
)uld roll on its back dead. Then he directed the 
ectators to walk away some distance from the snake 
d he would then collect vitality out of the air for 
e snake and the snake would come back to life. When 
ae snake saw that no one was near, it turned on its 
tlly and started to crawl away. The colored men 
{we greatly impressed with the great power possessed 
Mr. Ditmars over snakes. . 
■jin' journeying through South Carolina Mr. Ditmars 
ajfited a vast wilderness of cane growth, known as the 
S ack Swamp, which seemed to be devoid of amphibious , 
eatures that day. Mr. Ditmars and his companion, 
!r. Snyder, who is connected with the reptile depart- , 
l|ent of the New York Zoological Park, captured two 
ijakes, and in the night while pondering over their 
,)or luck, a large snake was seen crossing a stretch 
ij white sand. It proved, to be a specimen of the hand- 
{mest of water snakes {Nqtrix fas data erythrogaster) . 
Viey then went to the Savannah River, where the 
'iyous were extensive and populous with animal life, 
ta the hummocks bordering the low ground numerous 
specimens were observed. They found that the only 
sure M'ay of capturing these creatures was with a net. 
On peering about for this species they came upon a 
rattlesnake, which measured over five feet. While step- 
ping on a log in a shallow stream in the low grounds 
their guide almost put his foot on a cottonmouth 
snake, which made a lightning-like dart at the guide’s 
foot, but missed its aim and slid intO' the water. On 
this day they captured eleven cottonmouths. 
A peculiar fa;ct regarding the feeding of these snakes 
was observed. In the swamps in which they were 
found, hundreds of thousands of fish had been de- 
stroyed by the evaporation of water. In consequence, 
no food was left for these fish-eating reptiles except 
their harmless relations, the water snake. They gorged 
upon these, and in localities where mocasins were found 
common water snakes were rare indeed. One large 
moccasin disgorged a freshly swallowed snake immedi- 
ately after capture. The dead snake and the cannibal 
were measured, and it was discovered that the moc- 
casin was only a foot longer than the reptile composing 
his dinner, the water snake measuring a trifle more than 
three feet. 
The Pigeon^s Fate. 
Being old enough at the time to fully appreciate the 
grand sight of the myriads of wild pigeons as they 
moved back and forth through the Mississippi valley in 
the late seventies, it did not occur to the writer when they 
suddenly disapneared that it meant they had done so for 
all time. 
As the years pass and no^ satisfactory explanation has 
been advanced, the subject fairly nettles the thoughtful 
lover of nature. Superficial humane zealots as usual 
credit the “cruel” trapshooters with wanton slaughter, 
which is positively silly when it is remembered that a 
single flock, one of a hundred that passed in a day, would 
supply pigeons for trapshooting for several years. That 
disease exterminated them is not impossible, and is by 
far more reasonable than the trap or net explanation. 
Twenty-five or more years of guessing having failed to 
locate or account for the birds. 
The suggestion here offered (for what it is worth), 
which was brought about by a Welsh rarebit dream, may, 
if followed up, give a clew to the whereabouts or fate 'of 
the birds which sportsmen of the last generation will ever 
remember as the most graceful and skillful flyers known. 
The dream above mentioned need not be given in detail, 
nor could it be at this time; however, the writer, with 
the aid of the aforesaid “rabbit,” dreamed of a pow-wow 
with a venerable Indian who, when asked what had be- 
come of the pigeons, stated, to quote him literally (as 
dreamed) that “Pigeon heap d— m fool, fly in big water 
(meaning the Gulf of Mexico), no come back.” 
I am without any element of superstition, but this 
dream and Indian affirmation has haunted me for months. 
I have just returned from the Gulf coast, where, strange 
as it may seem, the dream has in a measure been con- 
firmed as follows : 
Having waded through a slough several times in quest 
of jack snipe, which were there in large numbers, and 
having killed and bagged many, I came to an inviting log 
near the edge of the swamp, which made a good resting ■ 
place for a tired shooter. While seated there making up 
my mind whether I should quit shooting or go back after 
the snipe again, an old negro driving an antiquated mule 
attached to a creaking, ramshackle wagon with dished 
wheels, drove up. A few pieces of webbing, some chains 
for traces and a bridle and reins of common clothesline 
made a perfectly harmonious outfit. 
“Whoa, Jake!” commanded the old man as he rolled 
up to my resting place. “Good mo’nin’, sah. You all . 
been spo’tin’ some dis mo’nin’.” 
I assured him I had bagged a lot of jacks. 
“I dun hear pow’ful lots o’ gun firin’ as I come along 
back.” 
His aged and gray head was- set. with bright eyes, and 
his old face beamed with good nature. I decided to do 
some of the questioning, so I started in with an inquiry 
as to whether Jake, who stood within reach of my seat 
on the log, had been or -was a kicker. His owner assured 
me he was gentle and “never was a fool mule.” 
“How long have you lived here, uncle?” I inquired. 
“I don’t live here ; I lives up dis road ’bout fo’ miles.” 
“Yes, but how long have you lived in Texas, or near the 
Gulf?” I asked. 
“Good Lo’d I I dun always been here,” and, as if to 
emphasize the statement, his old face wrinkled more than 
usual. 
“Do you remember the pigeons, years ago?” I asked. 
“I shore does, sah.” 
“What became of them?” I asked, recalling the dream. 
“Whar you all come from to ast dis nigger such fool 
things. Of cou’se I knows.” '• - 
“Well, I don’t,” I remarked, “but would like to very 
much.” 
“You never dun heard of de black fog and the ‘norther’ 
on dis beach ’bout twenty- five years ago?” 
“I never have; but what has that to do with it?” 
“Beg youh pa’don, sah, I guess you all ain’t jokin’.” 
I assured him I was not, and he began the story of the 
disappearance of the pigeons something like this : 
“When me and Tom Clay was out huntin’ coons and 
bob cats one day, de fog come so thick it was most pitch 
dark in dis woods and we was ’fraid to go to the island 
where Mars Judge Tobin lived, and we was workin’, and 
jes had to stay right dar in dat timber fo’ days and fo’ 
nights— coze we shore would git lost if we rowed de boat 
in dat fog. Well, de second mo’nin’ along come de 
‘norther’ an’ dun blowed dis timber most to pieces, but 
not de fog. By an’ bye I hear a sound, I (iun heard befo’, 
pigeons was a-flyin’ over, and de sound kep up all dat 
day till mos’ dark. Den da come failin’ thrO' de trees 
around us with their wings busted, and heads busted, like 
they was plumb crazy ; an’ when da seen our fire 
da fluttered into it and put it clean out. Yas, 
sah, _ dat’s God’s truf, I dun tole you all. Next 
mo’nin’ all dat could fly started off tor’d the 
ocean, -an’ the noise of more a-comin’ kep up all day till 
mos’ night. Dat noise was shore mighty bad, an’ we dun 
been ’bout scared to death when de fog -lifted, an’ we 
started fo’ home in de boat. Den we was scared agin, fo’ 
de bay was mos’ covered with dead pigeons an’ blood an’ 
feathers, an’ mos’ every kind of a fish was dar jes helpin’ 
hisself, an’ so thick we could jes row de boat. We dun 
busted right into a nest of sharks feedin’ on pigeons, an’ 
one throwed his tail so hard he knocked de oar out of 
de boat mos’ ten feet. Next mo’nin’ all the pigeons was 
dun gone, excep’ on de beach was some washed up, an’ a 
pow’ful lot of dead fish, little ones, s’pose got killed in 
de rush for pigeons. I neber did see a big flock since, 
an’ ain’t seen nary one fo’ yeahs now.” 
“Their you think they perished in the Gulf?” I asked. 
“I dun seen um, I knows I know it !” he replied. 
Will some kind reader help me in this matter and inter- 
view some old sea cock who- may have met the unfortu- 
nate birds further out to sea, and verify this negro’s story 
and the characteristic statement that “pigeon heap fool, 
fly in big water, and no come back” of the visionary 
Indian. Noynek. 
A Submarine Battle. 
-BY TUDOR JENKS. 
On a shallow shore of Long Island, near New York, 
extend long sandy beaches. These often are interrupted 
by creeks, or little inlets into which the tide runs at high 
water, running out again wdaen the tide falls. 
Standing on a bridge over one of these runways, I 
happened to see a big crab making a dinner upon a piece 
of fi.sh which he held firmly in one claw. Around him, 
but at a safe distance, were several smaller crabs who 
did their best to join in the big crab’s dinner. 
-Meanwhile the big fellow had no time to loiter over 
his meal, for in spite of his clever sparring with his free 
hand, every now and then one of his small enemies suc- 
ceeded in making a successful raid, and retreated safely 
w'itb a bit of the fish. 
Stilfi between attacks, big Mr. Crab was bolting his 
provisions so fast that the little pirates ■would soon be 
defeated unless they could invent a better plan of attack. 
Ihey had been rnaking quick dashes and still quicker re- 
treats, but the big crab, by wheeling to and fro, and by 
striking out or snapping his nippers at them, made 
Successful defense. He had only to turn as if on a pivot, 
while they must advance and retreat some distance. 
1 herefore the small fry consulted their ingenuity, and 
adopted a new plan ot attack. One by one they scuttled 
up stream, keeping near its banks, until they were about 
eight feet above the defender of the fish. As each 
reached the right distance he would launch himself into 
the_ swiftest part of the current, and let himself be 
whirled downward. 
_ By the time the young cruiser-crab was opposite the 
big battleship-crab, he would be going so fast that it was 
hard to hit him or to grip him, and yet he, keeping head 
on, and having to make no effort except a single quick 
grab at the fish, was able to score a frequent success. 
No sooiier did the big battleship-crab avoid one little 
cruifeer than another was upon him, and his store of food 
rapidly diminished. Seeing that his defense was over- 
come, the big fellow gave up any attempts to fight, and 
devoted himself to eating as fast as possible. 
In a few moments the fish was gone, and the battle 
was over. But it certainly was an uncomfortable way 
of taking dinner— for both parties to the battle. Civili- 
zation has its advantages. 
The Gray Wolf a Fightef, 
From a private letter written by Dr. Edward L. Mun- 
son, -of Fort Assinaboine, Mont., we are permitted to 
quote a sentence or two which gives a notion of the 
power of - the gray wolf, a matter that was referred to 
in an artide recently printed in these columns. Dr. 
Munson says : “A fortnight ago I ran into an immense 
old dog wolf which rnust have weighed 150 or 160 pounds. 
I had only three dogs with me as the rest of the pack was 
off after a jack rabbit. The dogs, all fine fighters, all 
started for the wolf, and he whipped them in one, two, 
three order, in less time than it takes me to- tell it. Qne 
he threw over a cut hank, crushed in the chest of an- 
other, and gashed the third dog’s throat. I do- not think 
that he could have done up three i(X)-pound wolfhounds 
as easily, though these dogs of mine are all good fighters 
and savage brutes, and one was an 85-pound staghound.” 
Importing Foreign Birds. 
Kerrville, Tex— Editor Forest and Stream: The gray 
partridge {Perdix dnerea) has been successfully reared 
in confinement in France. If it can be done in France it 
can be done with proper care in America. There are 
plenty of wealthy men all over- this county, who, if it 
were the fashion, would make their places on a small scale 
what the Yellowstone Park is on a large one, sanctuaries 
for native and foreign birds. Suggestions of importing 
foreign birds and undertaking the acclimatization of de- 
sirable game and song birds are too often met with the 
answer: “We imported the English sparrow, etc.” Be- 
cause we made fools of ourselves once, that is no reason 
that we should do it again. E. K. C. 
