Canoeing in Tropical America. 
III.—A Coral Snake Among the Bathers—The Scorpion 
Man—Hunting Wild Pigs and Being Hunted 
by a Troop of Monkeys 
By FRANCIS C. NICHOLAS 
O N up the river we went and presently stop¬ 
ped for our almuerzo at a shady bank 
where I could see that there was a sandy 
bottom to the river, and asked Don Pacho if it 
would be safe to go in swimming. He said he 
never swam. Then I asked Vincente, who said, 
“Of course,” and passed the word along to the 
men. They were quite willing, but Don Pacho 
with some anxiety told them that if we went in 
bathing, for the men to keep on the outside, and 
my good companion did not seem to at all fancy 
the idea of my going into the water. However, 
when one is dirty, really dirty, considerable risk 
will be taken to become partially clean, and even 
muddy water promises to be a luxury, and so 
while breakfast was boiling in the iron pot we 
all threw off our clothes, Don Pacho standing in 
the stern of the canoe with his pistol, while I 
and the four men went in for a bath. 
For a time we swam about, keeping near the 
shore, and then growing confident the men be¬ 
gan to romp in a rough fashion, keeping apart 
from me, and I was well pleased that they re¬ 
spected my dignity, even though I had no clothes, 
and allowed me to remain by myself. I have 
skylarked in the water a good deal at different 
times, especially when I was a boy, and I have 
seen some very severe duckings and rough pun¬ 
ishment given to companions, but I never saw 
such an exhibition as was given by these men. 
They were grabbing a companion, nearly strang¬ 
ling' him under the water, holding him head 
down, heels in the air, plastered mud in his 
mouth, only to have him turn on them, singling 
out one who would in turn receive the same 
punishment. It was an exhibition which one 
rarely sees, and yet it was all taken in good part. 
One would say he had a fine breakfast for an¬ 
other, and rush to him with a muddy stick or 
a handful of decayed leaves, and wou'd plaster 
his face, forcing some in his mouth, and imme¬ 
diately the whole crowd would proceed with the 
punishment. So they romped and struggled to¬ 
gether, apparently enjoying the rough play. 
After all they were only young men. and people 
mature rapidly in that country I was surprised 
to. learn a few days later that Vincente was only 
eighteen years old. I had taken him for twenty- 
five or thirty. 
While these games were in progress someone 
called out, “A coral!” Immediately all stopped 
and we saw coming toward us one of the most 
dangerous snakes in the country, the coral snake, 
a beautiful, graceful creature with small head, 
large body, painted with alternate rings of red, 
white and black. It was swimming directly to¬ 
ward us. I started to run for the shore, but 
the men called out that there was no danger, 
that no snake could bite while swimming, and so 
standing to see it come, they bade it defiance, 
splashing water at it, letting it swim near, then 
foycing it back, teasing it to desperation, yet it 
was powerless, for in the water it had no means 
of striking, though possessed of a most deadly 
poison. It seemed to realize its powerlessness 
and sought only to escape. This the men would 
not allow, and one actually grabbed it by the 
tail, driving it under the water, and so for a 
time they continued teasing it, though most of 
them were careful to keep fairly out of its way. 
Finally a stick floating past, one of the men 
grabbed it, and in a few seconds the life had 
been beaten out of the snake. I wanted to take 
it up in order to examine it more closely, but 
Vincente grabbed me, telling me not to touch it, 
for so deadly is its poison supposed to be that 
to touch a coral snake is claimed to be danger¬ 
ous. This I very much question, but the natives 
insist that every part of the snake contains 
poison and would cause death if it came in con¬ 
tact with a scratch or any abrasion on a person’s 
hand. This may or may not be true, but it is 
certain that the people are very careful how they 
handle a coral snake. 
After this Don Pacho called out, “Now you 
have had enough. Come ashore,” and as we 
really had had enough, we all obeyed orders, 
more willingly because Don Agusto, the captain, 
called out that breakfast was waiting. There 
were no mosquitoes now, so we did not bother 
to dress, but sitting around just as we were, ate 
breakfast and let a warm breeze blow over our 
bodies, drying them thoroughly, and I felt satis- 
field that it was worth while to take the risk of 
becoming partially clean. 
Breakfast over, there was a siesta as usua 1 , 
and then on again in the afternoon. The men 
worked steadily, no unpleasantnesses arising, and 
we made good progress. That night we camped 
at an old hut, making our arrangements before 
sunset, for the mosquitoes are always about, al¬ 
though not so troublesome here as in the swampy 
country. There was a pile of wood nearby and 
the men went to collect some for our fire. They 
had not been at work long before they called to 
me, asking if I would care to see some scorpions. 
A scorpion is always interesting, because it is 
dreaded. One likes to stand and look at a re¬ 
pulsive object from a safe distance, and so I 
joined the group who were turning over logs 
and amusing themselves annoying the insects. I 
have never seen such a quantity of scorpions. 
There were hundreds of them, big and little, and 
all shades of repulsive tints from gray to black, 
the colors suggesting the appearance of decay 
and filth. They all squirmed together while the 
men killed them or held some to the ground with 
a stick of wood, allowing the insects to thrash 
about with their cruel stings in order that I 
might see how vigorously they could wound the 
body if a person were so unfortunate to be 
brought in contact with them. 
Don Agusto joined the party presently, and 
said to the men, “Let the insects rest and I will 
show the senor something.” So the insects were 
allowed to become quiet, and feeling that their 
danger was over, went crawling about here and 
there with their claws extended for places of 
safety or comfort. After a time when all were 
still, Don Agusto went to a log under which a 
big fellow had crawled, raised it carefully .so as 
not to disturb the insect, and then deliberately 
picked it up. If I had not seen this with my 
own eyes I could not have believed it, yet it is 
a fact. The dangerous insect was allowed to 
crawl on Don Agusto’s arm, was smoothed and 
tickled, and apparently made no objection. Don 
Agusto could do with it whatever he liked. I 
thought at first it was a stunned insect, and 
stretched my hand forward to touch it, but im¬ 
mediately the tail was curled up ready for a 
strike. I drew my hand back and Don Agusto 
cautioned me not to tease it, as he did not care 
to be stung. For a time the play continued, Don 
Agusto holding the scorpion in his hands, turn¬ 
ing it on its back, took hold of the sting, 
smoothed its claws, allowed it to crawl over 
him as it pleased, and yet it made no effort to 
strike. 
The men looked on in awe at Don Agusto's 
powers. He was a scorpion man, one whom a 
scorpion would not sting. I am not sure even 
now that there was no trick about it, but I know 
that no other man would touch the insect, and 
Don Pacho assured me that it was true that Don 
Agusto could handle scorpions, and that other 
men could do the same thing. It seemed very 
strange, and yet there was the demonstration be¬ 
fore my eyes. After a time we tired of watch¬ 
ing the exhibition, and I said to kill the dirty 
