452 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 17, 1910. 
climbing propensities rather bluffed him. There 
are very few specimens of the Marmot a inona.v 
in this part of Nova Scotia, which accounts for 
the confusion of the guides. Nova Scotia birds 
and animals have funny ways sometimes, so per¬ 
haps we must make a new species, Mannota 
scandens chaseii. Up here the herring-gull never 
breeds inland, while the black-back breeds no¬ 
where else, and bears come to the “call'’ of the 
moose horn, possibly hoping for a bit of tender 
moose calf. Edward Breck. 
[Tree-climbing woodchucks have made their 
appearance in the columns of Forest and Stream 
scores, if not hundreds, of times. Nevertheless 
this tree-climbing is unusual and worth noting. 
It is less remarkable when the animal climbs a 
tree with many branches close to the ground than 
when the tree trunk is naked for ten or twelve 
feet as sometimes occurs. Many readers will 
remember the tree-climbing hounds, which have 
been photographed among the branches of Colo¬ 
rado cedars, in the tops of which mountain lions 
were perched.— Editor.] 
The Evil Copperhead. 
Doniphan, Mo., Sept. 8. —Editor Forest and 
Stream: Recently I was called upon to treat 
a boy for snake bite. He had been camping in 
a small bottom on Current River, and as night 
approached began to prepare some comforts for 
the evening. After assisting in the ordinary- 
chores ardund the place it occurred to him that 
a very soft bed might be made from the rank 
crab grass that grew everywhere. A thrifty 
patch attracted him and he proceeded to pull it 
by hand. Hardly had he begun to do this than 
he felt a sharp sting on his thumb and looking 
at the spot saw a small copperhead snake coiled 
among the grass. He glanced at his hand and 
saw the two small pricks, the marks of the bite 
of a snake. 
Alva Hall was not of a nervous temperament, 
and for a short time despite his companion’s un¬ 
easiness displayed but little emotion over his 
wound. Half an hour later the hand began to 
swell and a peculiar numbness was felt through 
his right arm. The hand was bound tightly by 
his camp mates at the wrist, and kerosene was 
poured upon it. It was suggested that I should 
be called on to treat him, possibly because I had 
treated horses and dogs for snake bite. I might 
do as well with a human being. 
The boy reached my place about two hours 
after he had been bitten. He had refused to 
yield to the solicitations of his friends to load 
up on whisky, the much lauded cure, and when 
I saw him his arm was badly swollen. His pulse 
was normal, there was no rise in temperature. 
I placed another tight bandage at his elbow, then 
opened the wound with a lancet, using the usual 
permaganate of potash treatment locally. As 
with animals I found copious draughts of milk 
a great help. I had the boy drink a glass every 
fifteen minutes. 
From 8 p. m. the arm kept swelling slowly 
until 10 p. m. . when further inflamation was not 
noticeable. The hand had a grotesque appear¬ 
ance. more like an atrocious’y stuffed glove, such 
as years ago glove manufacturers used to hang 
out of their doors as a sign of their trade. To 
the touch it had about the same feeling as the 
breast of a well-roasted chicken, and the skin 
felt especially crisp. 
At 10:30 the patient expressed a desire for a 
nap. I gave him another glass of milk and he 
retired and never woke till long after sunrise 
next morning. In the morning I secured some 
antjphlogistine and covered the entire arm with 
it, and by night the arm was reduced almost 
back to its normal size. The second day very 
little sign was left of his adventure. 
A few days later another boy was bitten. He 
was brought to me in a half drunken stupor. 
He had never been addicted to the use of alco¬ 
hol, but had been frightened into drinking copi¬ 
ous draughts. The wound went through about 
the same stages as in the first patient, but this 
boy was so very sick that I feared his death 
from alcoholism, and tried unsuccessfully to get 
a physician. Fortunately the effects of the drink 
wore off more rapidly than I expected, and when 
that condition arrived the patient recovered. 
I am satisfied that whisky is of no benefit to 
a patient suffering from the bite of a venemous 
snake, and by raising the temperature and heart 
beat produces added suffering and real danger. 
A short time ago the wife of Mike Loch, an 
Austrian, went through the timber to look for 
her cow that had ventured on the range lands. 
She was bitten on the foot by a copperhead. 
The method of treatment upon her reaching 
home was to me a unique though very success¬ 
ful one. A hole two feet deep was dug in the 
earth. Mrs. Loch’s foot was inserted then covered 
up with the earth. At frequent intervals water 
was poured in the hole. After four hours of 
this uncomfortable position the limb was taken 
out and the patient pronounced as well as ever. 
I have since learned of many cases treated in 
this way by Hungarians in this vicinity. 
In another case where a copperhead bit a boy. 
one of his neighbors insisted that he chew some 
weed. The boy suffered terribly from the weed, 
the membrane of his mouth being badly burnt 
by it, and for a time the child’s life was de¬ 
spaired of. 
No snake in our neighborhood is so universally 
dreaded as the copperhead; even the large dia¬ 
mond rattlers of the swamps are less feared. 
The copperhead with his readiness to fight at 
every opportunity available, and his ability to 
attack quickly and unexpectedly makes him hated 
by everyone. In summer, during the day time, 
he loves cool woods or fence corners, and any 
old rail or rotten log makes a hiding place. In 
the evening he loves to stretch at full length 
across dusty roads. Whether much used or not 
he little cares, for at all times he is ready to 
contest the right of way with any pedestrian. 
In early fall, especially if the weather be dry, 
he becomes a restless wanderer and can be often 
seen, for he roams at will, fearless of only one 
thing, and that a razorback hog—his greatest 
enemy and one that makes short work of him. 
In early spring after his winter’s sleep he comes 
forth in a brown, rusty-looking coat, but after 
shedding this inconspicuous garment he assumes 
his bright reddish color, whose luster remains 
untarnished until fall. In fall they travel fre¬ 
quently in pairs. They strike at the least provo¬ 
cation, being more on the alert for attack than 
any reptile I know of. 
Some time ago I saw a traveling snake show 
on a canvas floor with walls of canvas on each 
side. A motley assortment of snakes crawled in 
confusion, large timber rattlers, smaller rattlers, 
puff adders and other snakes, but among them 
I failed to see a copperhead. I inquired of the 
attendant the cause, and he volunteered that 
“they would not live in captivity.” I cited him 
instances to the contrary, when he dropped his 
side show effrontery and confidentially told me 
that they just could not handle them. They 
were too quick, always in the way, and were 
very difficult to handle, for they were invariably 
striking without provocation and never became 
accustomed to man. Whether this is the reason 
I do not know, but I do know that it has not as 
yet been my good fortune to see any of the so- 
called snake charmers handle copperheads as they 
do rattler's and other dangerous reptiles. 
Loch Laddie. 
Dangers from Rodents. 
The enormous damage caused all over the 
world through the destruction of crops by field 
mice, and the vast amount of property made 
away with by the common house rat, have led 
to more or less systematic means being taken to 
defend the public against the rat. 
It is known that this animal in its migra¬ 
tions from house to house, and even from city 
to city, carries the germs of disease, and, much 
more terrible, carries the fleas which disseminate 
the bubonic plague. It is also a well settled fact 
that certain wild rodents also carry the fleas which 
transmit this disease, and it has been shown that 
a disease which in the last few years has de¬ 
stroyed in California vast numbers of Beechey’s 
ground squirrel was the bubonic plague. 
Russian investigators have recently declared 
that the bobac marmot, which belongs to the 
same genus with the American woodchuck, is 
the original and primitive source of this plague 
and is a center of the disease from which vari¬ 
ous animals including rats are from time to time 
infected. It has been suggested that if it were 
exterminated, the plague would cease to exist. 
It seems far too late to hope for any such re¬ 
sult. The plague has been so widely disseminated 
that it is probably now thoroughly established in 
many centers. Another rodent, one of the wood 
rats, has been found to be infected with the 
plague, but this solitary animal is not regarded 
as likely to become an important agent in the 
conveyance of the plague. So far as known 
these are the most important rodents known to 
have been infected, and the direct danger comes 
chiefly from the brown rat, against which every 
effort that human ingenuity can devise should 
be used. The danger from wild mammals lies 
chiefly in the fact that they may convey the in¬ 
fection to domestic animals, or to animals shar¬ 
ing man’s home and so may bring the plague 
directly to human beings. 
It is altogether probable that further investi¬ 
gations will show many other rodents that are 
subject to this disease. It has been suggested 
that cattle may be the means of transferring the 
infection from the wild ground squirrel to man, 
but this seems hardly likely. However, it may 
well enough be that Beechey’s ground squirrel 
would transfer the plague to many other species 
of rodents. 
At all events, at present the house rat is the 
greatest danger that threatens, and although no 
great outbreak of the plague has taken place in 
America, and although heroic measures have 
stamped out the small outbreaks that have ap¬ 
peared. it is important that every measure of pro¬ 
tection should be adopted against the domestic rat. 
