Horses have there also another dangerous enemy—a great hairy spider or species of the tarantula; this inflicts a very poisonous and painful sting just above the hoof, which in time drops off, although it is never followed by death.

But among all these evil creatures, there is none so disgusting or so dangerous as the rattlesnake. The virulence of its poison, and the great size attained by some, renders them the terror of every man and beast where they abound. Fortunately for mankind, they have been provided by an ever-watchful Providence with what is termed a rattle; this is composed of a number of horny rings placed at the end of the tail, which, on being shaken, produce a peculiar sound, and serve as warning. It is said that Nature every year adds one of these rings, thus marking the age of the reptile. From its loathsome body is exhaled a strong odor, somewhat resembling musk, in itself sufficient to warn the most careless, as it is perceptible at the distance of a hundred feet. The head is peculiarly flat and broad, and the eyes sparkle in the darkness like specks of fire. The mouth is a ghastly aperture, whence issues a black and forked tongue, which the reptile moves incessantly when irritated. Two long fangs, curved inwardly, project in front of the upper jaw, and through them the fatal venom is discharged. The poison is secreted from two glands in the form of small bags at the root of the fangs, admirably adapted for the purpose, being hollow inside throughout their whole length, and by their pressure against the glands produced by the act of biting, the liquid is ejected into the wound. Fortunately, this snake is the slowest in its motions, and the most torpid of its kind, otherwise the mischief done by them would be much greater, they being very abundant also in the Llanos. Their favorite haunts are the hollow trunks of decayed trees and deep fissures in the ground. Occasionally they are found coiled among thick clumps of grass, which shelter them from the glaring sun; but they are always ready to strike any intruder. At night they issue forth in quest of game, returning again to their hiding-places before sunrise.

In addition to the foregoing, there are several other kinds in the Apure; among the harmless ones the sabanera is very abundant in the savannas, from which it is named. Some of these are ten feet long and occasionally even more. They glide over the ground with astonishing rapidity, making all varieties of contortions with their bodies, the forward part of which they keep all the while raised in a vertical position. These snakes are very useful, as they destroy all the poisonous kinds they encounter.

The beautiful coral snake, with alternate rings of red, black, and white, is occasionally seen in the vicinity of ant-holes. Most persons attribute to it very poisonous qualities; but I have examined its mouth carefully and found there no fangs, nor any of the characteristics of poisonous snakes.

In the same category is placed another inoffensive reptile, a cecilia, emphatically styled culebra de dos cabezas, or two-headed snake—so named on account of having both ends of its body of equal thickness, while the eyes are almost invisible. It seems the connecting link between snakes and earthworms, partaking of the nature of both, is about a foot long, and rather disproportionately thick for its length, while its body is covered with minute scales. As this snake has the power of moving backward or forward with equal facility, it is supposed by many to be actually possessed of two heads. There is abundant nourishment for it in the ant nests which it frequents, but it feeds also on earthworms, and the larvæ of insects, pursuing them with unrelenting perseverance through the ground. The double motion of this reptile, its great muscular powers and flexibility enable it to penetrate the deepest recesses of a colony of ants, and to pierce the earth with wonderful expedition in search of prey.

ANTIDOTES.

Several antidotes are recommended for the venomous bite of snakes; some of them possess real alexipharmic virtues, as the raiz de mato, to which I have already alluded under the name of Aristolochia bulbosa, and the guaco, (Mikania Guaco,) a composite plant which the learned Mutis has rendered so celebrated through the instrumentality of Humboldt; the others, however, are nothing more than superstitious imaginings, which see in the tooth of a crocodile extracted on Good Friday, or in some unmeaning orison whispered in the sufferer’s ear, greater powers than in all the resources of medical science. Yet such is the leaning of the benighted children of Nature in these regions toward the supernatural, that they always give the preference to whatever savors most of the miraculous. Somewhat of this has doubtless arisen from the mistaken idea that all snakes are poisonous. Thus if it so happen that the incantation is whispered over a person who recovers, having been bitten by a harmless snake, his cure is of course attributed to magic, which is accordingly proclaimed a sovereign remedy for all similar cases in future. Saint Paul, as I have already mentioned, possesses not only the power of arresting the fatal spring of a snake, if invoked in time, but can also neutralize the poison, even when it is circulating through the veins. Notwithstanding my want of faith in the intervention of the saint in question, I confess myself to have been on an occasion extremely puzzled by one of these cherished superstitions, the famous Oracion de San Pablo, and up to this period have not been able to account for it in a manner satisfactory to my common sense. As we were one afternoon driving home a herd of cattle, the majordomo’s horse was bitten by a matacaballo, when at a short distance from the ranch. The rider observed his sudden start, and at once mentioned the cause thereof. The ground, overgrown with grass, was diligently searched, and the snake discovered and killed on the very spot pointed out by the majordomo, who in the mean time had hastened forward with his horse to the ranch, knowing that the strength of the poor animal would soon give way. Scarcely had he alighted when his horse, covered with a cold sweat, dropped to the ground. A curandero or snake doctor immediately presented himself and commenced a series of incantations over the prostrate animal, which it was supposed would soon counteract the poison. I was anxious to administer spirits of hartshorn, a well-authenticated remedy for such cases, but the Llaneros opposed this resolutely, on the ground that it would interfere with their own. The Oracion was accordingly whispered in the horse’s ear and the patient then removed to a convenient pasture, where he could find abundant feed if fate ever restored his appetite. Here he was left, rolling upon the ground and moaning piteously, while I was positively assured by the men that in the course of two hours, at most, he would be completely restored, and my scepticism confounded. Singularly enough, the remedy acted in this case like a real charm; at the appointed time the horse started to his feet and commenced browsing the grass around him with as much gusto as if he had experienced no ailment whatsoever. Whether the venom of the snake was not, in this instance, strong enough to kill the horse; or, what is more probable, the reptile’s fang might not have penetrated deep enough, are questions which cannot be decided, but shortly afterward the same horse, a beautiful but wild and vicious young stallion, came very near kicking to death the curandero who restored him to health.