The Romance of Natural History, Second Series

by Philip Henry Gosse

Mr Ellis, in his charming volume on Madagascar and the Cape, makes the following observations:—[169]

"In a country abounding, as Africa does, with serpents, I expected to hear many anecdotes respecting them; and, conversing on one occasion with Mr Pullen, a farmer who has lived many years in the country, and seemed to have paid rather more than usual attention to this species of reptile, he said he once saw a mouse running in a field, and that, coming in sight of a snake, though at a considerable distance, it instantly stopped. The snake fixed its eye on the mouse, which then crept slowly towards the snake, and, as it approached nearer, trembled and shrieked most piteously, but still kept approaching until quite close, when it seemed to become prostrate, and the snake then devoured it. On another occasion he had watched a snake capture a mouse in the same manner; but, as it was retreating, he followed, and struck it on the back with a stick, when it opened its mouth, and the mouse escaping, ran for some distance, then fell down; but after a minute recovered and ran away. Another time he said he watched a snake in the water, which had fixed its eye on a frog sitting amongst the grass on the bank. The frog, though greatly alarmed, seemed unable to stir, until Mr Pullen gradually pushed a rush growing near so that it intervened between the eye of the snake and its intended victim, when the frog, as if suddenly liberated, darted away. Mr Pullen's ideas were in accordance with the popular notion, that the snake has the power of exercising some mesmeric or other influence through the steady fixing of its eye, and that whatever intercepts this gaze breaks, as it were, the charm, and sets the prisoner free."

A most important witness on this matter is Dr Andrew Smith, the learned zoologist of South Africa, who thus soberly throws the weight of his own thoroughly competent and most conclusive personal observations into the affirmative scale. In his interesting account of the Boomslange, a serpent of considerable size found in that region, he says:—

"As this snake, Bucephalus capensis, in our opinion, is not provided with a poisonous fluid to instil into wounds which these fangs may inflict, they must consequently be intended for a purpose different to those which exist in poisonous reptiles. Their use seems to be to offer obstacles to the retrogression of animals, such as birds, &c., while they are only partially within the mouth; and, from the circumstance of these fangs being directed backwards, and not admitting of being raised so as to form an angle with the edge of the jaw, they are well fitted to act as powerful holders when once they penetrate the skin and soft parts of the prey which their possessors may be in the act of swallowing. Without such fangs escapes would be common; with such, they are rare.

"The natives of South Africa regard the Bucephalus capensis as poisonous; but in their opinion we cannot concur, as we have not been able to discover the existence of any glands manifestly organised for the secretion of poison. The fangs are enclosed in a soft, pulpy sheath, the inner surface of which is commonly coated with a thin glairy secretion. This secretion possibly may have something acrid and irritating in its qualities, which may, when it enters a wound, occasion pain and even swelling, but nothing of greater importance.

"The Bucephalus capensis is generally found upon trees, to which it resorts for the purpose of catching birds, upon which it delights to feed. The presence of a specimen in a tree is generally soon discovered by the birds of the neighbourhood, who collect around it, and fly to and fro, uttering the most piercing cries, until some one, more terror-struck than the rest, actually scans its lips, and, almost without resistance, becomes a meal for its enemy. During such a proceeding the snake is generally observed with its head raised about ten or twelve inches above the branch round which its body and tail are entwined, with its mouth open and its neck inflated, as if anxiously endeavouring to increase the terror which it would almost appear it was aware would sooner or later bring within its grasp some one of the feathered group.

"Whatever may be said in ridicule of fascination, it is nevertheless true that birds, and even quadrupeds, are, under such circumstances, unable to retire from the presence of certain of their enemies; and, what is even more extraordinary, unable to resist the propensity to advance from a situation of actual safety into one of the most imminent danger. This I have often seen exemplified in the case of birds and snakes; and I have heard of instances equally curious, in which antelopes and other quadrupeds have been so bewildered by the sudden appearance of crocodiles, and by the grimaces and contortions they practised, as to be unable to fly or even to move from the spot towards which they were approaching to seize them."[170]

It may have been the Boomslange to which Le Vaillant alludes, who says that he saw, on the branch of a tree, a species of shrike, trembling as if in convulsions; and at the distance of nearly four feet, on another branch, he beheld a large species of snake, that was lying with outstretched neck, and fiery eyes, gazing steadily at the poor animal. The agony of the bird was so great, that it was deprived of the power of moving away; and when one of the party killed the snake, the shrike was found dead upon the spot, and that entirely from fear; for on examination it appeared not to have received the slightest wound. The same traveller informs us, that a short time afterwards he observed a small mouse, in similar agonising convulsions, about two yards distant from a snake, whose eyes were intently fixed upon it; and on frightening away the reptile, and taking up the mouse, it expired in his hand.[171]

In a record, by Mr D. T. Evans, of some experiments with Venomous Serpents, made at the Zoological Gardens, mainly with a view to test the efficacy of a reputed remedy for their bite,—Simaba cedron—and which were pursued with the utmost philosophic care, we find the following interesting particulars:—"The attitudes and movements of the serpent intending to bite were very striking and beautiful. In the first place, he made, with the posterior half of his body, a bold curve, having a strong prehensile 'purchase' on the floor of the cage, so as to secure a steady fulcrum for the rapid dart made at the time of the bite. The upper half of the body was raised some ten inches or a foot, the neck strongly arched, and the head, bent at nearly right angles with the neck, was poised directly opposite the prey. In such position the serpent remained a greater or lesser time (sometimes as long as twenty minutes) according to circumstances. During this interval, the slightest motion of the animal before him was followed by an instantaneous and correspondent movement of the head and neck of the serpent. The purpose seemed to be that of aim-taking, for the eyes were intently fixed upon the prey; but I am by no means sure that the snake, knowing that the latter cannot escape him, does not derive pleasure from this prolonged and intent gaze. At all events, in one experiment, where the head of a rattlesnake so engaged was sideways to the glass of the cage, and near it, I observed, and called attention to the fact, a remarkable vermicular motion along the course of the poison-gland to the opening of the angle of the mouth, which we thought might afford him pleasure, and this continued until the snake struck his prey.

"So far the Serpents. I now proceed to describe the peculiarities shewn by the animals on which we experimented. Some philosophers have denied innate ideas to man; these and some others have furthermore denied an instinctive apprehension of danger in animals. They say that of itself, as born, the hare has no dread of the hound: that its fear is acquired of experience. I concur in neither of these opinions, and think the latter altogether refuted by the conduct of the animals exposed to serpents in these experiments. Not one of the guinea-pigs or rabbits (which were all something under their full growth) had ever seen a serpent; yet when introduced to the cage they shewed unequivocal symptoms of distress and fear. In some instances they actually screamed before they were struck. They generally shewed restlessness at first, but when the serpent, intending to strike, poised himself in front, they became for a time, if not altogether, motionless. Is there such a thing as 'fascination?' If by this is meant a pleasurable paralysis of the animal's powers, I think it more than doubtful; but a deprivation of the power of motion from terror may, perhaps, take place. All, however, that I speak to is a perfectly motionless condition of snake and prey, lasting several minutes."[172]