THE SERPENT-CHARMER.
The nature of all Serpents is rather peculiar, and is probably owing to the mode in which the blood circulates. They are extremely unwilling to move, except when urged by the wants of nature, and will lie coiled up for many hours together when not pressed by hunger. Consequently, when touched, their feeling is evidently like that of a drowsy man, who only tries to shake off the object which may rouse him, and composes himself afresh to sleep.
A quick and sudden movement would, however, alarm the reptile, which would strike in self-defence, and, sluggish as are its general movements, its stroke is delivered with such lightning rapidity that it would be sure to inflict its fatal wound before it was seized.
If, therefore, Mr. Waterton saw a Serpent which he desired to catch, he would creep very quietly up to it, and with a gentle, slow movement place his fingers round its neck just behind the head. If it happened to be coiled up in such a manner that he could not get at its neck, he had only to touch it gently until it moved sufficiently for his purpose.
When he had once placed his hand on the Serpent, it was in his power. He would then grasp it very lightly indeed, and raise it gently from the ground, trusting that the reptile would be more inclined to be carried quietly than to summon up sufficient energy to bite. Even if it had tried to use its fangs, it could not have done so as long as its captor's fingers were round its neck.
As a rule, a great amount of provocation is needed before a venomous Serpent will use its teeth. One of my friends, when a boy, caught a viper, mistaking it for a common snake. He tied it round his neck, coiled it on his wrist by way of a bracelet, and so took it home, playing many similar tricks with it as he went. After arrival in the house, he produced the viper for the amusement of his brothers and sisters, and, after repeating his performances, tried to tie the snake in a double knot. This, however, was enough to provoke the most pacific of creatures, and in consequence he received a bite on his finger.
The poison was not slow to take effect; first, the wound looked and felt like a nettle sting, then like a wasp sting, and in the course of a few minutes the whole finger was swollen. At this juncture his father, a medical man, fortunately arrived, and set the approved antidotes, ammonia, oil, and lunar caustic, to the wound, having previously made incisions about the punctured spot, and with paternal affection attempted to suck out the poison. In spite of these remedies a serious illness was the result of the bite, from which the boy did not recover for several weeks.