June 1873, a Coluber natrix had seven young ones. (I cannot affirm positively that these were born alive; I think not, from an especial entry in my notebook concerning them; but the records of the Zoological Society in which I have sought for confirmation do not announce them as ‘hatched.’)
August 1873, a yellow Jamaica boa (Chilobothrus inornatus) gave birth to fourteen young ones, ten of which survived. They crawled up to the top of their cage as soon as they saw daylight, and showed signs of fight. One little aggressor struck at me when I held it, and tried to bite me through my glove,—an impertinence which was permitted in order to test its powers. It constricted my fingers as tightly as if a strong cord were wound round them, and when not thus occupied it wriggled and twisted itself about in such energetic contortions that I could scarcely hold it. The activity and daring of the whole fry proved their perfect development. On another occasion the same species produced eight, and on a third occasion thirty-three young ones, but of these dates I am not quite sure. In some cases a few eggs were produced at the same time, but they were hard and bad and of the consistency of soap. The manners and actions of the three equally well-developed families were similar. They were always on the defensive, and able to fight their own battles. When the keeper put his hand into the cage, they seized upon it and held on with their teeth so tightly that on raising it they hung wriggling and undulating like a living, waving tassel.
Another boa from Panama, on 30th June 1877, had twenty young, which displayed ability to take care of themselves forthwith by leaving the marks of their teeth on Holland’s fingers. These twenty were all produced during the night, or before the arrival of the keeper the next morning, and were lively and spiteful, biting any one who attempted to touch them, and sharply enough to draw blood. Mr. E. W. Searle, who described them in Land and Water at the time, July 1877, said: ‘This is probably the first recorded instance of the breeding of boa constrictors in captivity.’ He seemed also to infer that this proved the boa to be viviparous instead of oviparous, as ‘had been always understood.’ Having already known of cases of abnormal, and also of postponed production of eggs or of young, I ventured at the time to cite such cases in Land and Water, July 7, 1877, adding: ‘We must not too hastily conclude that because one boa constrictor produced a family of lively young ones, this species is invariably viviparous.’ Also in the Field, July 14, 1877, I suggested that ‘the circumstance might be received rather as a further example of snakes breeding under abnormal conditions,’—opinions further confirmed by subsequent observations.
The little fry were supplied with young mice, which they constricted as if they had served an apprenticeship; but the mother left them entirely to themselves, and betrayed no other unusual feelings than to hiss when disturbed. When they were seven weeks old, they in one night ate twenty-four mice and a few young rats between them. They all cast their first coat before they were a week old. The mother had been in the Gardens about eight years. All but one of this fine family were alive in the following November, and two are still living at the time of going to press, viz. ‘Totsey’ (illus. p. 201) and one brother.
The dates of these few following cases are a little uncertain, also exactly how many survived of those that were born.
A ‘seven-banded’ snake (Trop. leberis) had six.
A ‘chicken snake’ (Col. eximius).
A ‘moccasin snake’ (Tropidonotus fasciatus) had nine young ones. This species has sometimes produced young and eggs at the same time.
A ‘garter snake’ (Tropidonotus ordinatus).
A boa constrictor had eight pretty little active snakelings that at two days old pretended to constrict my fingers, and forcibly enough to prove their powers.