






Views ‘on Rattlesnakes. 
Wymore, Neb., Dec. 16.—Editor Forest and 
Stream: My inquiry as to how a rattlesnake 
carries his rattles, published in Forest AND 
STREAM of Sept. 14 last, has received some atten- 
tion from your correspondents, and I have re- 
ceived quite a number of personal letters on 
the subject in which the writers have tried to 
enlighten me. I did not make the inquiry be- 
cause I believed that I needed any light on the 
subject, but because I knew that most men, even 
ranchmen who kill hundreds of these reptiles 
every year, would answer the question incor- 
rectly, and for the further reason that a little 
discussion would correct some very common 
errors as to the questions involved, and the char- 
acteristics of the snake. 
Some of the answers in your columns and 
some of the many personal letters received by 
me give partly correct answers, but most of 
the letters give incorrect answers. 
The first answer published, that of Mr. Jaques, 
in your issue of Sept. 28, was wrong in every 
particular. 
The answer of Mr. Moody in your issue of 
Oct. 5 was correct as to the position in which 
he carries his rattles, but wrong as to their being 
continuations of the vertebre, and he was also 
wrong in speaking of the rattlesnake as a “bird.” 
It is not a bird. 
The answer of Mr. Johnson’in your issue of 
Oct. 12 was correct as to the snake carrying his 
rattles edgewise, and that they have no light- 
colored side, but wrong as to the way he shakes 
his tail. 
The photograph and letter of Mm Kelly in the 
issue of Nov. 16 are both to the point as to the 
way he carries his rattles. He is right in say- 
ing that the rattles are not a continuation of the 
vertebra, and that they get a new rattle at each 
shedding of he skin; but he is wrong in saying 
“They are horny hardenings of the skin, like 
a man’s toe nails.’ A man’s toe nails are not 
horny hardenings of the skin; at least mine are 
not. 
I have never seen a snake in the position shown 
in the picture. It is not in position to strike, 
or rattle, and invariably you will find it coiled 
in an oblong loop, with the rattles lying across 
some part of the body and just behind the head. 
As I have killed and skinned many rattle- 
snakes, and have observed them closely, I will 
give your readers some snake lore that I be- 
lieve on investigation they will find correct. I 
sent three beautiful skins, with rattles attached, 
to ForREST AND STREAM some years ago. 
A rattlesnake carries his rattles on edge. They 
have no light-colored side. They never have 
holes worn through them. They do not drag 
them on the ground when crawling. They slope 
up from the end of the tail on the under edge, 
and are usually carried at an angle of about 
forty-five degrees. 
A rattlesnake does not shake his tail when 
rattling. The shedding of the skin each year 
discloses the new rattle. When in proper posi- 
tion the rattlesnake can strike nearly one-half of 
his length. You can run the tine of a pitchfork 
down through the center of his head, and his 
rattles will still stand up and buzz for hours. but 
draw a sharp knife lightly across the back of 
his neck and the tail will lie down and the 
rattling cease. The power house is in his head, 
and the current that sounds the warning is car- 
ried by the spinal cord. 
It pains me to have to say that whiskey is 
not an antidote for the bite of the rattlesnake; in 
fact, it is about the worst thing the patient can 
take, as it heats the blood and thus stimulates the 
absorption of the venom and gives you a head- 
ache the next day. Mot one person out of a 
dozen struck by a rattlesnake receives any of 

. 
the venom in the wound, and this, perhaps, ac- 
counts for the many cures by whiskey. 
When struck, cut the wounds downward, being 
careful not to cvt too much or too deep, and 
suck the wound. The venom taken into’ the 
mouth or stomach is perfectly harmless. Or if 
you are alone, and cannot reach the wounds with 
your mouth, and can heat the blade of your 
knife red hot. use that. But when hunting snakes 
carry a syringe loaded with permanganate of 
potash, and inject it into the wound and you 
will find it a perfect cure. 
A. D. McCAnp_Less. 

To Get Rid of Fleas. 
Mr. L. O. Howarp, the entomologist, has re- 
cently made public a note concerning two rem- 
edies against fleas which he is anxious to have 
tested by the public, and about which he will be 
glad to receive reports. For reasons which Mr. 
Howard gives, the matter is one of interest to 
every one, and although for many of the readers 
of Forsst AND STREAM it may not be practicable 
to make these tests, there are many others resid- 
ing in moderate climates who can do so. Dr. 
Howard may be addressed at the Department of 
Agriculture, Washington, D. C. Dr. Howard’s 
note is as follows: 
Aside from the great annoyance caused by fleas, 
their agency in the carriage of the bubonic plague 
has been so well established that it is important to 
test every proposed remedy or preventive. Since 
the publication of my circular No. 13 on this 
subject, I have received information concerning 
two remedies vouched for by careful persons, but 
have not had a good opportunity to test either. 
Mr. E, M. Ehrhorn, the well-known entomolo- 
gist who is deputy commissioner of horticulture 
in California, gives me the following: Fill a 
soup plate with soapsuds; in the center place a 
glass of water with a scum of kerosene on the 
top; place the soup plate on the floor in an in- 
fested room and set fire to the kerosene at night. 
Fleas in the room will be attracted and will jump 
into the soapsuds. 
Another remedy is sent me by the well-known 
writer on ants, Miss Adele M. Fielde, with the re- 
quest that I make it widely known. Miss Fielde 
states that during long residence in Southern 
China, where fleas swarm even in clean houses, 
she made her own house immune through many 
years by dissolving alum in the whitewash or 
kalsomine that covered the interior walls, putting 
sheets of thick paper that had been dipped in a 
solution of alum under the floor matting, and 
scattering pulverized alum in all crevices where 
insects might lodge or breed. Powdered alum, 
she states, may be sprinkled upon carpets already 
laid and then brushed or swept into their meshes 
with: no injury to the carpets and with the cer- 
tainty of banishment to many insect pests, in- 
cluding both moths and fleas. 
Sheets that have been soaked in alum water 
and then dried may profitably enclose those that 
are spread nearest to the sleeper. From ten to 
twenty cents’ worth of alum judiciously used in 
-each room of the house will effect much good in 
the prevention of dangerous insects. 
Grouse Habits. 
Stockton, Md., Dec. 15.—Editor Forest and 
Stream: In reading Mr. Hammond’s extremely 
interesting paper on the ruffed grouse I was 
struck by the very mysterious trait in the bird’s 
habits known as the “crazy time.’ Could not 
this be due to the parent birds deserting the 
young ones? W. H. Ocker. 

THE ForEST AND STREAM may be obtained from 
any newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to 
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Of Writing About Animals. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
It is a fact that some animals sometimes do 
some things which are utterly unaccountable 
under. any rules of action of which we have 
any knowledge. To illustrate: 
A few years ago, on a bright midwinter day,_ 
I happened to be the occupant of a shooting 
blind located near the middle of a channel be- 
tween the shores of two low marshy islands 
off the Virginia coast. The channel, about two 
miles long, and, where my blind was located, 
about a quarter of a mile wide, was a well 
patronized flyway for waterfowl when changing 
their feeding places. Soon after midday the 
flight slackened so considerably that I con- 
cluded to eat a cold lunch which I had brought 
along. 
While so doing I noticed that suddenly a 
shadow, cast from behind, came on my blind 
just in front of where I was sitting. Quickly 
looking up and back I saw, about ten or twelve 
feet above me, a great blue heron, apparently 
about to alight on the blind. He evidently saw 
me just as I saw him, and at once swerved off 
to the right toward the nearest shore, probably 
200 or 250 yards distant. As he was not the 
kind of game I was after I merely stood up 
and watched the ponderous swing of his big un- 
gainly wings as he flew away. After going 
about a third of the way to shore he suddenly 
wheeled and started straight back toward me. 
Knowing the danger of a possible blow from his 
ugly bill, if we came to close quarters, I picked 
up my gun, and, without taking any particular 
aim, fired a shot just to frighten him away. He 
paid no attention to this, but came straight on. 
As the possession of the blind then seemed 
likely to become the question at issue, I now 
shot to kill with the other barrel, and the heron 
dropped dead not over twenty yards from the 
blind. 
Now, I think it perfectly clear that that bird 
in so acting under those conditions, was led 
by some motive or purpose of which we, human 
beings, have no knowledge whatever. I can- 
not account for his actions under any rules 
which govern human conduct. The blue heron 
of the Atlantic coast is not an aggresive bird, 
and so far as my knowledge goes never attacks 
anything except the little fish and smal! vermin 
he feeds on, and never fights except when closely 
cornered, and then in self-defense. His desire, 
and in fact his determination to alight on that 
blind—a mere clump of cedar bushes—could not 
have arisen from physical exhaustion or weari- 
ness, for no migratory bird ever becomes ex- 
hausted or over weary in flying a mile or two 
from one feeding place to another. The odor 
of a cold ham sandwich, even if it caught the 
odor, would hardly have led the timid, cowardly 
thing to turn back on its course to alight at a 
place where it knew there was a man and a gun. 
That bird, to my apprehension, was guided by 
some instinct, purpose or rule of action, about 
which the human intellect knows nothirig, and 
when we say that it did what it did, from some 
motive or purpose which would have led a man 
to do the same thing under the same conditions 
—which is the way in which some writers argue 
—we are saying more than we know. 
Just here I suspect that some of our alleged 
nature writers—pseudo naturalists—make a mis- 
take. They see an animal do something which, 
if a man did it, he would do for a certain rea- 
son; therefore the same reason must have been 
the animal’s reason. Thus what appears to be 
an abnormal act is made the basis of a false 
sketch of animal life. 
Now, if I felt so disposed, I think I could 
make a fairly credible fake story out of the cold 
facts above stated. How I saw the heron com- 



