The rattle consists of a number of horny joints which when shaken produce the sound by which it is known, and which gives notice of the proximity of the snake.
The Black Snake and the Rattlesnake. "The black snake of Central America," says Mr. Byam, "is a deadly enemy to the rattlesnake; it is next in size to the boa, but much more agile; very vicious and ill-tempered, but not poisonous; it measures from nine to ten feet, and whenever they meet a pitched battle ensues, which, if tolerably equal in size, ends in favour of the black snake. It is not known whether they bite each other, but, at all events, the poison of the venomous serpent has no effect upon his adversary, although a rattlesnake bit itself one day, and died of the wound. A black and a rattlesnake were each descending opposite banks to drink at a stream a yard broad; the black fellow sprang over the stream, and they instantly joined in conflict. They twined together, and the black snake had evidently most muscular power, so that in half an hour the rattlesnake was dead, and the black snake swallowed him, gliding into the thicket, double the size he was when he came out of it."
The Cobra. The Cobra is one of the most venomous of the snakes of the East. It is common all over India and Ceylon and the Islands of the Archipelago. It attains to a length of five or six feet, and feeds on birds, small animals, lizards, frogs, toads, and fishes, in the pursuit of which it will ascend trees and swim the sea. Notwithstanding its dangerous character, the Cobra is the chosen subject of the Indian snake charmer, who keeps it in a basket, until the time for the performance and then allows it to creep out to the sounds of a native fife, upon hearing which the Cobra immediately expands its beautiful though threatening hood, erects its neck, and commences a series of undulating movements, which are continued until the sound of the fife ceases, when the snake instantly drops, and is replaced in its basket by its master.
Snake Charming. "One morning, as I sat at breakfast," says a writer in the Penny Magazine, "I heard a loud noise and shouting among my palankeen bearers. On enquiry, I learned that they had seen a large hooded snake, and were trying to kill it. I immediately went out, and saw the snake creeping up a very high green mound, whence it escaped into a hole, in an old wall of an ancient fortification; the men were armed with their sticks, which they always carry in their hands, and had attempted in vain to kill the reptile, which had eluded their pursuit, and in his hole had coiled himself up securely, whilst we could see his bright eyes shining. I had often desired to ascertain the truth of the report, as to the effect of music upon snakes. I therefore enquired for a snake-catcher. There was one about three miles off, and I accordingly sent for him, keeping a strict watch over the snake, which never attempted to escape, whilst we, his enemies, were in sight. About an hour elapsed, when my messengers returned, bringing a snake-catcher. This man wore no covering on his head, nor any on his person, excepting a small piece of cloth round his loins; he had in his hands two baskets, one containing tame snakes, the other empty; these, and his musical pipe, were the only things he had with him. I made the snake-catcher leave his two baskets on the ground, at some distance, while he ascended the mound with his pipe alone. He began to play: at the sound of music the snake came gradually and slowly out of his hole. When he was entirely within reach, the snake-catcher seized him dexterously by the tail, and held him thus at arm's length, while the snake, enraged, darted his head in all directions, but in vain; thus suspended, he has not the power to round himself, so as to seize hold of his tormentor. He exhausted himself in vain exertions; when the snake-catcher descended the bank, dropped him into the empty basket, and closed the lid, he then began to play, and after a short time raising the lid of the basket, the snake darted about wildly, and attempted to escape; the lid was shut down again quickly, the music always playing. This was repeated two or three times; and, in a very short interval, the lid being again raised, the snake sat on his tail, opened his hood, and danced quite as quietly as the tame snakes in the other basket, nor did he again attempt to escape."
The Cobra as Companion of the Bath. A gentleman in India once visited a neighbouring station for the purpose of taking part in a cricket match, and was hospitably entertained. He was put up in a large tent, accompanied by his wife. After the day's play, at dusk, he went between the canvas walls of the tent where his bath was ready. Touching the bath-tub, were placed two large earthenware jars, full of cold water, and next to them was a brass basin, also containing water, on a stand; the light was burning in the centre of the tent so that between the canvas walls was darkness. He stepped into the tub, and finding the water too hot, bent down to take up one of the cold water jars, but something induced him instinctively to refrain. He stayed his hand, at the same time calling out to his wife to bring a light, which she did when, to his horror, he saw a large cobra coiled round the mouth of the jar, within a foot of his naked legs. The sensation can be imagined. To move was probably death, to stand still required nerve. Experience and courage decided the point, and fixing his eye on the reptile, he quietly told his wife to put down the light on the ground and get him a stick. The wife, a sensible creature, obeyed, leaving her lord in the agonies of suspense as to what the snake's next move would be. This was soon settled by the reptile uncoiling itself and gliding up the chillumchee stand on to the basin, from which it commenced drinking. By this time the stick was gently put into the bather's hand, who with a well-directed blow cut the snake in half against the edge of the copper basin, thus putting a full stop to a thrilling period.
A Night with a Cobra. "I was on a visit during the rainy season, a few years ago," says a recent writer, "when I slept upon an iron bedstead which had two lots of bedding on it. The first night I awoke, as I thought with a horrible nightmare, feeling the cold slimy body of a snake gliding over my person, and imagining myself in the regions described in Milton's Paradise Lost, and so wondrously drawn by Doré. I was bathed in perspiration, and trembled all over till daylight brought relief, and I convinced myself it must have been merely a nightmare. But the next night I again awoke in terror, feeling the same awful sensation of a cold, clammy body gliding gently along my side, and passing with a wriggle over my body; terror preventing me moving. Whether I fainted or again fell asleep I have never been able to decide, but at daylight I fled from the room and sat cowering in the verandah, in a state of mind bordering on insanity. My hostess was informed of my state, and got me round with a glass of wine. Nothing would induce me to re-enter my bedroom. The bearer and other domestics were sent for, and headed by the mistress of the house, inspected the bed by removing the sheets. Nothing was to be seen till one of the servants brushed his leg against something soft and cold, and looked down at the junction of the two beddings; he saw the end of a dark-coloured tail. A howl from him scattered the servants and made me imagine the snake was about to attack me. The valiant servants again assembled, and with sticks entered the bedroom and poked off the upper bedding, revealing a large hooded cobra coiled in the centre, which was eventually despatched by blows."
An Unpleasant Bedfellow. A soldier in a regiment stationed at C—— was, for disorderly conduct, condemned to pass the night in one of the cells. Just as he was going to sleep he was startled by hearing a noise, which he knew could only be occasioned by a snake. Instead of jumping up and calling to the sentinel for help, and perhaps treading on the snake and being bitten by it, he lay perfectly still, knowing that unless disturbed the snake would not hurt him. Presently the snake drew its cold slimy body over his bare feet. There are few persons who, in a similar condition, would not have drawn up their legs with a start, but our hero did not even move. Soon the snake began to crawl over his body and even passed over his face. The poor soldier hardly dared to breathe. At last the reptile coiled itself under his pillow, and when day broke our soldier, seizing the stone with which he ought to have blocked up the hole by which the snake entered, crushed it to death. On being examined, the reptile proved to be of a kind whose bite is almost invariably fatal.
The Boa Constrictor. The Boa Constrictor is one of the largest of the snake kind. It is not venomous, but is possessed of enormous strength which it shows by coiling itself round the object of its attack and crushing it into a shapeless mass. It belongs to tropical America and feeds on birds, and animals of all kinds, not hesitating to attack even the larger quadrupeds. The following account from the pen of Mr. Byam will give an idea of the way in which these monsters dispose of their prey.
The Boa and its Prey. An Englishman and an Indian, travelling together through a thick forest, heard a noise like the cry of a child in great pain. Pulling out their pistols, and tying up their horses, they proceeded to the spot, and there saw a boa crushing a young roebuck with short horns. It had wound itself twice round its prey, just behind the shoulders, one coil lying on the other to increase the weight, and its teeth were fastened on the back of the deer's head. The tail was twisted twice round a young tree close by. It was too busy to observe the strangers; and the Englishman wished to attack it, and save the deer; but the Indian walked off very gently, and made signs to him to follow. When they had regained their horses, the Indian said it would have been madness to have fought with the irritated animal, and they went their way. This was seven in the morning, and they marked the spot by notching the trees. At four in the afternoon they again passed that way, and found the boa lying straight upon the ground; one of the horns of the roebuck sticking out of a corner of the mouth, and the other looking as if it would perforate the neck of the snake; the tail was still coiled round the tree, and the middle of the body looked like a nine-gallon cask. A few blows of the hunting sword about the tail finished the monster; but when attacked, it tried to throw up the deer." The boa has been known to measure upwards of twenty-five feet, though commonly not exceeding eighteen feet.
The Boa's Appetite. Captain Heyland thus describes a boa which was in his possession for some time:—"The animal was brought to me early in January, and did not taste food from that time until the July following. During this period he generally drank a quart of water daily. The man who brought him stated, that he had been seen to eat a hog deer the day before he was taken. He was allowed to be at liberty in the grounds about my house. One evening early in July, hearing a noise, I went out, and discovered that the snake had left his harbour, under the boards of a stable where he generally lay; and having entered a small shed in which some fowls were roosting, had swept eleven from the perch, and destroyed them by pressing them between his folds. Then taking them one by one, head foremost into his mouth, swallowed the whole down in twenty minutes. The largest animal that he ate while in my possession was a calf, which he killed and gorged in two hours and twenty minutes. He never attacked dogs, cats, or pigs. Of these last, indeed, he seemed to be in dread, for, whenever one was presented to him, he retired to a corner, and coiled himself up, with his head undermost. If fed with animals not larger than a duck, he ate readily every day; but after the meal of a goat, refused food for a month."