If the saliva of an angrily-excited human being or a dog be more injurious at one time than another, how much more so that of a venomous serpent. The flow would be greater, the character more noxious. It seems therefore a mere question of power or virulence, the greater over the less. In some cases one serpent might kill another, in other cases not.
CHAPTER XXX.
NOTES FROM THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.
ARRANGING the following examples, not so much in chronological sequence as in elucidation of special facts, I will first give some cases of venomous serpents killing themselves and each other. My notes began in 1872, after the interest so strongly awakened in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, when those tame snakes were fed to gratify our curiosity (see Introduction).
Holland was then the keeper at the Reptile House of the London Zoological Society’s Gardens, and had occupied this place upwards of twenty years, gathering much experience and knowledge of reptilian habits. Incidents known to him, when not witnessed by myself, may therefore be received as trustworthy.
On Sunday, July 20th, 1873, a ‘River Jack’ (Vipera rhinoceros), from West Africa, really did kill itself, though the act can scarcely be called intentional ‘suicide.’ It was from dashing its head against its cage either in anger or pain. Holland was of opinion that it had been severely bitten by one of the others of the same kind in the cage at the time; for he had known snakes to die from bites in this way, sometimes from their own bites. On one occasion three Puff adders (Vipera arietans) all died through quarrelling and biting each other. One of the three survived ten days, the others dying sooner.
One day in April 1873 or 1874, on going to the Gardens, I was informed that a water viper (Cenchris piscivorus) had been found in the tank in its cage, presenting a very unusual appearance, and enormously swelled. On going his rounds that morning, the keeper observed it, and touching it with his iron rod, he discovered that it was quite dead. He said these vipers frequently quarrel, biting each other and causing this great inflation of the body, as if blown out by wind. The vitality of this species is very strong. From such bites the inflation is sometimes only temporary, and they recover, but not always. One of them lived a long while with a broken back. It was endeavouring to escape by the sliding door, which was raised while the keeper was making some arrangements. The movements of the reptile were so swift that Holland was obliged to suddenly drop the slide; and though he succeeded in partly pushing back the snake, it got caught and was jammed under it, completely dislocating its spine. But it did not appear to suffer very much, he said, and entirely recovered from the injury.