FROM A SNAKE ENTHUSIAST 
3 
From a Snake Enthusiast 
New York City. 
To the Editor: 
I am more than glad to avail myself 
of your invitation to write a short let- 
ter in regard to my experience with 
snakes. 
There always has been so much na- 
ture faking — through ignorance of 
the subject, or by an author-editor's 
striving to inject features of “human 
interest” into a snake story — that the 
average reader naturally dislikes 
snakes. It is exceptional to see a snake 
story that is not exaggerated or abso- 
lutely untrue. 
The trouble is that the writers, the 
artists, the editors and the story-tellers 
are ignorant of the subject, and pass 
their ignorance and misinformation on 
to the trusting public. 
When I was a, boy I heard the same 
kind of twisted tales, and snakes be- 
came a mystery to me. But as 1 was 
naturally a lover of the out-of-doors, 
my hunting and fishing trips gradually 
brought me into contact with the rep- 
tilian life of the country, and I gradu- 
ally learned its economic value, its 
physical limitations and its personal in- 
dividualities- 
In New York, New Jersey, Pennsyl- 
vania, Massachusetts and Connecticut, 
there are only two species of venomous 
snakes — the banded (or timber) rat- 
tler and the copperhead. These are 
easily recognized and neither will at- 
tack. Each will either remain where 
it is, or will try to escape, and the 
chance is it will get away as fast as it 
can. These snakes cannot strike, nor 
make the so-called “jump” further than 
a distance equalling about two-thirds of 
their own length, though usually it is 
less, seldom more. You must not ex- 
pect always to be warned of their pres- 
ence by sound or by smell. Rattle- 
snakes may strike without sounding 
their rattles. Although there may be 
many rattlers or copperheads in your 
vicinity, you may not notice any pecu- 
liar odor, unless one has ejected its pun- 
gent secretion. The odor is then notice- 
able. and is like a mixture of cucumber, 
banana oil and the smell of an inhabited 
osprey’s nest. 
All other snakes in the above men- 
tioned states are harmless. Most of 
them are gentle, or become quiet short- 
ly after being captured or as soon as 
they learn that you intend no harm. 
There are exceptions to the rule. The 
racing black snake, which is of a ner- 
vous nature, is always savage. It is 
one of the few snakes that will attack 
or threaten, if it thinks itself cornered, 
but you may stand your ground and 
laugh, for although its scientific name 
is Zamenis constrictor, it is not a con- 
strictor. In fact, there is no constrict- 
ing snake native to the United States 
that a normal eight year old boy could 
not control, and as for biting, the racing 
black snake could not bite through 
your thinnest summer trousers. The 
bite at its worst is merely superficial. 
I seldom capture a racer without being 
bitten. It is one of the rapidly moving 
species and the best way to capture it 
is to seize any accessible part of the 
body. 
I have caught many timber rattle- 
snakes and copperheads in the North, 
and cottonmouth moccasions in the 
South, that were gentle in temper and 
would not show anger unless unduly 
provoked. One exceptionally large 
timber rattler, measuring five feet in 
length, which some friends and I 
caught in the Ramapos Mountains, 
New York, and which I had in the 
Bronx Zoo for nearly a year, was per- 
fectly docile. If I had been reckless 
enough to take a chance, I think that I 
could have handled her as safely as a 
pine snake. 
The hognose snake, variously known 
as the puff adder, hissing adder, spread- 
ing adder, etc., and believed by many 
to be deadly, is one of the most harm- 
less. It is all bluff. When it fails to 
frighten its enemies it feigns death like 
an oppossum. But it thinks that a dead 
snake should lie on its back, so it lies 
that way, but if you turn it over it im- 
mediately rolls over, to prove that it is 
dead. 
The ribbons, waters, garter, milks, 
De Kays, grass and mountain black 
snakes, etc., are interesting and harm- 
less and in their way fit into the scheme 
of things. All have their economic 
value — as scavengers or vermin exter- 
minators. They help to keep a proper 
balance in nature, and among other 
things act as a food supply to numer- 
