By this time, in addition to the ever-varying vernaculars, we learn of Waterton’s ‘Bushmaster’ as Lachesis mutus; L. rhombeatus; Crotalus mutus; Trigonocephalus mutus.
It will be observed that the word Trigonocephalus is used as a generic name by some naturalists, and as a specific by others; and it may with reason be applied to most of the American thanatophidia which are not elapidæ. It therefore, at least, enables us to ascertain that the snake of doubtful identity has this viperine characteristic of the angular head; and as there is only one very small true viper at present known in the New World, we may further decide that not being an Elaps, our puzzler is a Bothrops with the doubles narines, and therefore equally meriting either of the descriptives atropos, atrox, furia, megæra, clotho, cophias, and other such fearful appellatives freely used to designate the deadly qualities of the worst class of serpents. In reply to a communication of mine to Land and Water, of 2d October 1880, Dr. Stradling[126] entered more fully into this question of vernaculars, and what he says of Brazil we find to be the case everywhere:—
‘Whatever meaning the colloquial titles have is generally grounded on some popular error.’
This we saw in the case of Xenodon and Heterodon, both called all sorts of bad names on account of their supposed fangs.
‘In Brazil, Jeboia and Cascavel are the universal names for the boa and rattlesnake; every snake with red in its markings is a coral snake (“corral,” from the Spanish word for a ring), every one found in or near the water would be a Cobra de agua, and every other is a Jarraracca or a Curucucu.
‘I believe every country has a pet bugbear among serpents. “Fer-de-lance” is the cry in St. Lucia when a snake rustles away in the bush or inflicts a bite unseen, “Bushmaster” in Demerara, “Toboba” in Nicaragua, “Vaia” in Mexico, “Vivera de la cruz” in the River Plate. Over and over again have I had snakes of widely different species sent to me, each guaranteed to be a genuine Jarraracca, until I began to doubt whether the Jarraracca had any existence at all. I believe that the one I sent to the Zoological Gardens the other day is the real thing—Craspedocephalus Brasiliensis—at last’ (the Xenodon after all!) ‘and I think I have sifted the Curucucu down by elimination till I can fix the term on Trigonocephalus atrox.
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‘I fear we shall never get a decent classification till some competent observer studies them on their native soil; the excellence of the books on Indian reptiles is doubtless due to this. We want a man in authority to settle the very vernacular for us—one who can say, “This and no other shall be the Jarraracca, this the Bushmaster,” etc., for it is undoubtedly a great advantage to have a well-defined native or local synonym. The marvel is that the present classification should be so good as it is. Look at the difficulties. When people see a snake they rush at it, smash it with sticks or stones, pick up what is left of it and put it in a bottle of cauha, cachasse, rum, or other coarse spirit, label it with a wrong name, and send it home. And these are the materials an ophiologist has to build on.’[127]
Krefft, speaking of the confusion of vernaculars in Australia, also says: ‘To make a work on ophiology useful to all, co-operation is necessary; and as a good, sound English name is prefixed to every species, it is to be hoped that such name will, if possible, be retained.’ He is referring more particularly to the ‘Diamond snake,’ which on the mainland is the harmless Python molurus, and in Tasmania the venomous Hoplocephalus superbus, with very broad scales. Therefore he ‘hopes that Tasmanian friends will accept the designation “Broad-scaled snake” in lieu of “Diamond” for their poisonous species.’ In the accounts sent to England, the indiscriminate use of such prefixes as the black snake, the brown snake, causes infinite perplexity, and not unfrequently furnishes argumentative articles to the journals. ‘Carpet’ snake is another vernacular applied to a harmless species in Australia, and to the extremely venomous little Echis of India. Then every country has its ‘Deaf adder’ which is neither an ‘adder’ nor ‘deaf.’ And the ‘moccasin’ of the United States is a still existing stumbling-block.