In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

The S. S. Van Dyck of the Lamport and Holt Line, with Colonel Roosevelt and his party on board, arrived at Barbados on the morning of October 10, and late that afternoon pointed her nose southward toward Bahia. The plans of the expedition, with which I was immediately made acquainted, called for a rather short and not too difficult trip up the Paraguay River and down the Tapajos, having for its prime object the study of the fauna and collection of zoological specimens in the region traversed; but all this was changed within a very few days as we shall subsequently learn. Besides Colonel Roosevelt, the expedition consisted of Geo. K. Cherrie, Anthony Fiala, Jacob Sigg, Father Zahm, and myself.

Bahia was reached on the 18th; Kermit Roosevelt joined the expedition at this place. The Van Dyck remained at anchor the entire day, thus allowing sufficient time for a casual inspection of the city. Two days after, we arrived in Rio de Janeiro. The paucity of the English language does not permit of an adequate description of the natural beauties of the harbor and the city. All steamers entering the bay must sail through the narrow passage between the famous Pão de Azucar and the mainland on the opposite side. The great loaf-shaped rock rises to a height of twelve hundred feet above the water; if one craves excitement, it is possible to ascend to the top in a small car travelling on steel cables.

In few cities is there such a display of great wealth. The main street, the Avenida Central, is wide and beautiful, and the sidewalks are of coarse mosaic. There are numerous palatial buildings, though some of them are too ornate to appeal to North American taste, and gold-leaf and carved marble have been used lavishly in their decoration. The public squares, filled with the finest of tropical trees and plants, give a park-like appearance to at least parts of the city.

Of interest to the tourist, perhaps, are the numerous curio-shops filled with a varied assortment of almost everything ranging from minute, brilliantly hued beetles, to feather flowers and the skins of anacondas. Brazil is of course popularly believed to be the land of huge snakes; one dealer calmly told us that he frequently had skins forty metres long, but the longest he happened to possess measured less than twenty feet in length. The number of stories in common circulation concerning serpents of monstrous proportions in South American countries, is astonishing; and it was interesting to note that the farther south we went, the longer the reptiles grew.

Thus, in Barranquilla, near the Caribbean coast of Colombia, I was told that specimens thirty feet long were to be had frequently; this did not seem quite probable. In Venezuela thirty-five feet was not considered unusual, and I was sorry that none were to be obtained during my visit. In British Guiana, snakes forty feet long were said to be fairly common, although I could find no one who had actually seen one of that size. The climax was reached in Rio de Janeiro, when a curio-dealer told about the forty-metre snakes. I frankly expressed my doubts, and he proceeded to tell of how a man standing beside a snake of this size, that was coiled up, could not look over the top of it—it was such a great heap.

It must be admitted that Brazil with its great Amazon basin produces many strange and unusual creatures; but when it comes to one-hundred-foot snakes, it can only be said that there is absolutely no proof of their existence. No dealer I ever visited, and there were many, could ever produce a skin over twenty feet long.

The traveller into the interior hears many stories of great serpents and their doings; for instance, the story of the horned snake is famous all over South America, and while the details may vary, the main features are always the same. It is the tale of a person (usually the one telling the story) who came suddenly upon an enormous snake with a long horn on either side of the head. Of course, the reptile was immediately killed, sometimes with a rifle or revolver, or occasionally with a knife, after a desperate struggle. As the slain monster writhed its last, the heroic hunter made a startling discovery; the snake did not actually have horns; it had merely swallowed an ox, which feat it performed without difficulty until the head was reached; this refused to go down on account of the spreading horns lodging crosswise in the corners of the snake’s mouth. Hence the old, old story of the horned snake.

Another favorite anecdote which I have heard repeated a number of times is that of the man who with his wagon, to which two oxen were hitched, attempted to ford a stream; suddenly an anaconda of enormous size emerged from the water and, enveloping both animals in its coils, crushed them to death. I never encouraged those telling this story to continue, because I was afraid that they might say the snake had swallowed both oxen and perhaps even the wagon at the same time!

Not many years ago a South American explorer brought back photographs of the “trail” made by a huge snake in crawling along the sand. It would be easy to manufacture such a trail by dragging a bag full of sand along the ground, and while it is impossible to say that this was really done, such a photograph would be of no value, anyway, as it would be impossible to determine the size of the reptile from such a picture.

In this way the evidence of the existence of gigantic snakes gradually dwindles away, and we are compelled to look for material on which we can lay our hands, whereon to base our knowledge. That is, the stories of the average traveller and native as well must not be taken too seriously; and only the skins or living specimens known to exist can be taken into consideration.