Among unprejudiced observers there are still some who are inclined to attribute to optical delusion the sudden disappearance of young snakes; arguing from their astonishing rapidity of motion, and the almost inappreciable space into which they can creep and hide in their mother’s coils. Mr. Arthur Nicols, in his interesting papers on Snakes, published in The Country newspaper, in 1878-79, describes a case of this kind from personal observation when in Australia. He disturbed a snake with a number of young around her, the latter quickly vanishing. He discharged his gun, and the old snake was almost cut to pieces with shot. Approaching, he found all the young ones hidden beneath and about her, and when he stirred them up they persisted in hiding among the shattered coils, returning thither to the last.
Mr. Nicols states only that it was a poisonous snake, not giving the specific name. She had probably incubated her eggs, and the young had remembered the shelter of their mother’s coils. That it was a display of filial refuge is, however, undeniable.
A similar occurrence is related in the Field of November 10th, 1866, by a Mr. Brittain, as an argument against the swallowing process. He had seen young vipers run to their mother for protection, and so completely out of sight that only on disturbing them they were found to have secreted themselves in her coils. These may have been at a more advanced age, and had ceased to enter the mouth.
It is remarkable that hitherto, excepting in Pelias berus, we hear of this maternal display as peculiar to America only. Whether a more intimate acquaintance with the snakes of other countries will reveal new instances in the course of time, we cannot conjecture. It is to be wished that observations on this head may be published, and investigations encouraged; or in the minds of the million, the maternal œsophagal refuge will still be classed among the fables.
Taking it for granted, then, in deference to the American ‘Convention,’ that snakes do offer refuge to their young, it is curious to speculate as to how the habit originated and became a confirmed one. Maternal instincts have, without doubt, been strong from the first; and we must suppose that similar dangers to those which induce a snake now to summon her young ones had also been the cause of postponed functions in the mother, and that hers were precocious little reptiles before they ever saw light.
Because we cannot assume that in a state of security an oviparous snake would ‘retard its laying’ and become ovoviviparous or viviparous; nor that a viper would intentionally retain her young until their fangs were developed (see p. 360), so that they should be able to take care of themselves; or a rattlesnake till its young had rattles as well as fangs (see p. 299), these being the principal species which do shelter their young. And the habit must have had a beginning; there must have been some training, some development of instinct, to lead up to what we now see, viz. a snake deliberately giving a signal, lowering her head to the level of the ground or water, opening wide her mouth to receive her young, and giving them a second sign when they might safely venture forth again.
This is the state of things supposed to exist at the present time; and it would seem to be an organized habit, perfected in process of ages, and one in which the mother’s instinct, and a consciousness of harbouring active young ones before introducing them to surrounding dangers, must have had a considerable share.
In concluding this speculative chapter, I can only humbly beg to ‘second the motion’ put to the learned assembly at Portland, Maine, in 1873, to the effect that the subject will receive the attention of ophiologists in all the snake countries of the world.
