So in Alabama, where it is customary in balmy autumn evenings for the family to sit in the yard under the broad sheltering trees, by the flickering light of the yard-fire. This fire is lighted at dusk on an iron tripod breast-high, and kept up till bed-time. It is the duty of a negro urchin to keep it constantly bright with splints of pine, so as to maintain a perpetual blaze, as the object is to illuminate the yard and its contiguous offices. The little "nigger" nods, of course, but the loud scolding voice of master, mistress, or overseer, or any one else, rates him, and rouses him to duty, as soon as the flame falls. It is pleasant to sit and watch the effect of the light, either transmitted through or reflected from the quivering leaves of the surrounding trees, the blaze now rising brightly and playing in tongue-like flickering spires, now sinking and dying to a ruddy glow, then suddenly reviving under the frightened watchfulness of the sable minister, who plays the part of vestal virgin at this altar.
Large insects often play around this fire. Beetles "wheel their drony flight" in buzzing circles round for a few turns, and are gone; and moths come fluttering about, and often scorch their plumy wings. I have taken some very fine Sphinges and other moths thus; and the only specimen I ever saw of that very curious insect the Mole-cricket alive (a species distinct from, but very closely allied to, our European insect) was one that suddenly dashed into the ashes of the light-stand—a curious and interesting circumstance, when connected with the opinion that I have before alluded to, that the Gryllotalpa Europæa is one of the producers of the Ignis fatuus.
Birds also are attracted by light at night. I have read of a Titmouse that was seen fluttering around a gas-lamp in the suburbs of London, and would not be driven away; it at length made its entrance into the lamp through the orifice at the bottom, and continued to flit around and across the jet. In 1832, a Herring-gull struck one of the mullions of the Bell Rock Light-house with such force, that two of the polished plates of glass, measuring about two feet square, and a quarter of an inch in thickness, were shivered to pieces, and scattered over the floor in a thousand atoms, to the great alarm of the keeper on watch, and the other inmates of the house, who rushed instantly to the light-room. The gull was found to measure five feet between the tips of the wings. In his gullet was a large herring, and in his throat a piece of plate-glass of about one inch in length.
Dr Livingstone gives some curious examples of the attractive power of fire over various creatures in South Africa, which he attributes to a sort of fascination. "Fire," he says, "exercises a fascinating effect on some kinds of toads. They may be seen rushing into it on the evenings without ever starting back on feeling pain. Contact with the hot embers rather increases the energy with which they strive to gain the hottest parts, and they never cease their struggles for the centre, even when their juices are coagulating and their limbs stiffening in the roasting heat. Various insects also are thus fascinated; but the scorpions may be seen coming away from the fire in fierce disgust, and they are so irritated as to inflict at that time their most painful stings."[182]
IX.
SERPENT-CHARMING.
From the day when the solemn doom was pronounced,—"I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed," the serpent-form has begotten revulsion and dread in the human breast. And deservedly; for a venomous serpent is a terrible enemy: the direful venom of sin injected by "that old serpent, the Devil," is well symbolised by the most potent of all lethic agencies,—the poison of the rattlesnake or the cobra.
And yet in all ages there have been persons in the countries where the most venomous snakes abound, who have professed, and have been believed to enjoy, an absolute immunity from their bites, and even to exercise some inexplicable power over them, whereby their rage is soothed, and they are rendered for the time gentle and harmless. The Holy Scriptures repeatedly allude to this ancient art. The Magicians of Egypt, who turned their rods into serpents, are supposed to have had recourse to a secret known, it is said, to the modern conjurors of the same country, who, by pressing the nape of the neck of the cobra with their fingers, throw it into a sort of catalepsy, by which its whole body becomes rigid like a rod, and from which it is relieved by suddenly throwing it on the ground. Aaron's rod was a veritable rod before and after the transaction, but changed into a serpent by Divine miraculous energy: theirs were serpents made to assume the appearance of rods for the moment by a cunning device.