We some time ago published an account of that deadly snake the Cobra,
from the pen of a now well-known writer on Indian sports. In that paper
it was given as the opinion of Dr Fayrer, author of a splendid work
on Indian poisonous serpents, that a human being if bitten by a cobra
in full vigour, was entirely beyond the reach of any known antidote;
death was certain. In the following paper, which is from the pen of the
author of the article above mentioned, some curious facts are adduced
relative to the mongoose or ichneumon, an animal which is credited in
many parts of India with being proof against snake-bite! With these few
words of introduction, we leave our sporting friend to describe the
little creature.
In countries where snakes and other noxious reptiles abound, nature,
as a means of checking the excessive increase of such plagues,
has provided certain animals, both biped and quadruped, which, by
continually preying upon and destroying snakes of all kinds, both large
and small, fulfil a most useful office, and confer an inestimable
benefit on man. The peccary of South America, a small but fearless
species of the hog-tribe, will not flinch from an encounter with such
a terrible foe as the deadly rattlesnake; but encased in a hide of
extreme toughness, quickly despatches and devours his scaly antagonist.
The Secretary bird of Southern Africa, belonging to the falcon tribe,
habitually subsists on reptiles of all kinds. In Europe the stork acts
a similar part; and many other useful birds and beasts, performing the
same good work, might be mentioned.
In India, where serpents are specially common and destructive to human
life, we have various kinds of snake-devourers, such as storks and
cranes and the well-known adjutant. Peafowl are especially active in
destroying small descriptions of snakes; and others of the feathered
race assist in the work. But in general, animals of all kinds have a
natural dread, and carefully avoid permitting themselves to come in
contact with, or even close proximity to a member of the snake-tribe,
instinctively aware of the danger of meddling with such creatures.
The little ichneumon (a Greek word signifying a follower of the tracks
or footsteps) or mongoose of India, is, however, a bright exception
to this rule, for not only will he, when so disposed, without fear of
consequences readily enter into mortal combat with the most venomous
descriptions of snakes, but will even seek them out, attack, slay, and
devour them, their young, or eggs, in their various strongholds and
hiding-places.
The common gray mongoose (_Herpestes griseus_), called by the natives
of Northern India 'Néwelá,' is exceedingly abundant everywhere. In
general shape and contour, though not in colour, it is much like a
ferret, and in many other ways resembles one of the weasel tribe. In
size it is considerably larger than a ferret; and the hair which covers
the body, instead of lying smooth and feeling soft to the touch, as
that of the ferret, is coarse and bristly. The colour, which varies
much in different parts of the country and according to the season of
the year, is generally of a reddish brown, speckled over with gray. Its
length from tip of nose to tip of tail is about two feet. The snout
is sharply pointed, ears short and round, eyes small and piercing;
the jaws are armed with a formidable set of teeth, the canines being
especially sharp and long.
The mongoose frequents gardens, thick hedgerows, and scrub jungle; and
if left unmolested, and not hunted by dogs, will often take up its
abode in some burrow or hole in a bank in close proximity to inhabited
buildings. Though in general nocturnal in habits, yet it may often be
seen crossing a road or footpath during the day, usually pausing a
moment to look around and make sure that the coast is clear of dogs and
suchlike enemies before venturing to cross open ground. It possesses
in common with the weasel tribe the habit of constantly sitting up
on its hind legs to listen or obtain a better view around. I never,
however, have observed it _feeding_ in this position, like a squirrel,
as has been stated to be the case. The mongoose has not the wandering
propensities of the weasel tribe, one day here, the next miles away,
but takes up its residence and remains in one particular spot, to
which it returns, after roaming through the country around in search
of food. A single animal, sometimes a pair, is usually seen at a time,
seldom more; and I have never myself beheld, or heard of, large numbers
travelling together, as we know stoats and weasels not unfrequently do.
Though seldom if ever known to ascend trees, even when pursued by an
enemy, the little creature may frequently be seen hunting about on the
roofs of outhouses or deserted buildings of no great height, to which
it has ascended probably by means of holes in the walls; but strictly
speaking, the mongoose is not a climber, like the squirrel and marten.
Our little friend has been described as an excellent swimmer; but
I imagine that it does not readily take to water, for I have never
seen it swimming across streams or pools, though the banks of rivers,
especially when honeycombed with rat-holes, and affording cover to the
animal's usual prey, are much frequented by it. It is an exceedingly
courageous creature, and capable of inflicting severe punishment on
animals far larger than itself, with its formidable teeth. A full-grown
and powerful Tom-cat belonging to my regiment, the terror of all the
squirrels in the neighbourhood, was worsted and most severely mauled in
an encounter of his own seeking with a harmless mongoose. The latter
surprised in the first instance and hard pressed by his opponent,
turned on his assailant, and bit him through the face, inflicting so
severe a wound, extending as it did from the corner of the eye to the
mouth, that the aggressor was compelled to beat a retreat, having
caught a regular Tartar. For many weeks we all thought that the sight
of the injured optic was destroyed, though eventually the contrary
proved to be the case; but puss for ever after carefully avoided
seeking a quarrel with such an undaunted little champion.
The mongoose at times is mischievous; and not unfrequently during the
night invades the poultry-yard; and when intent on making an entrance
into a hen-roost, is a difficult thief to keep out, for the creature
manages to creep through very small openings and crevices. Having once
succeeded in forcing its way in, the mongoose, like many others of its
tribe, not content with obtaining a single fowl sufficient to furnish
a hearty meal, is given to the bad habit of slaying half a dozen or
more unfortunates, which it never attempts to carry off, but leaves
scattered about the floor.
In spite, however, of such small 'peccadillos' and insignificant petty
thefts, which I believe are the sum-total of crimes which can be with
justice laid to the charge of the little animal, the mongoose, on
account of its many admirable qualities and the exceedingly useful
office it fulfils, should ever be encouraged and protected by man. Not
only does it continually hunt for and prey upon reptiles of various
kinds, devouring their young and eggs alike, but cobras and other
venomous snakes on becoming aware of such an active and dreaded little
adversary being in their midst, speedily leave such a neighbourhood,
and betake themselves to other and safer quarters; and as we know
that the smell of a cat suffices to keep away rats and mice from our
dwellings, so in like manner will a mongoose, by continually prowling
about a house, in a great measure free the premises from snakes, rats,
mice, and such vermin.
The mongoose in its wild state, if kindly treated, fed with milk, and
made a welcome visitant, speedily loses its natural fear of human
beings, and not only will pass along the veranda of a house, but if
unmolested, soon learns to cross from one room to another by an open
door or window. When captured young, it is very easily reared and
domesticated, and soon becomes familiarised with the loss of liberty.
It is cleanly in its habits, and has no offensive odour pertaining to
it, like many of its tribe. It will trot about after its owner like a
dog or cat, and even permit children to handle or play with it, without
attempting to bite or scratch them. I have seen one curled up asleep in
a lady's lap. They are special favourites of the British soldiers in
the barracks, and dozens of such pets may be seen in a single building.
Being, as I have already stated, a deadly foe to the cobra, battles
between that formidable reptile and the mongoose are of constant
occurrence; but I never have had the good fortune to witness a combat
between the two animals in _their wild state_, though I have several
times seen large and formidable snakes despatched within a few minutes
of the commencement of the fight, by tame ichneumons; and I imagine
that the tactics employed on both sides are much the same whether
the champions have casually met in the jungle, or the duel has been
arranged for them by human beings.
In the various encounters which I have personally witnessed between
mongoose and cobra, the former invariably came off the victor, and
that without apparently receiving a wound. The little animal always
adopted the same tactics, vigorously attacking the snake by circling
round it and springing at its throat or head, but at the same time
with wonderful skill and quickness avoiding the counter-strokes
of its dangerous enemy; till at length waiting for a favourable
opportunity--when the snake had become to a certain extent exhausted by
its exertions--the nimble little quadruped would suddenly dart forward,
and, so to speak, getting under its opponent's guard, end the fight by
delivering a crunching bite through the cobra's skull.
In none of the half-dozen battles which I have witnessed has there been
an attempt on the part of the mongoose to 'extract the serpent's fangs'
(as some recent writers have described); though more than once, after
gaining the victory, the animal has commenced to ravenously devour its
late opponent. Possibly these poor creatures, that shewed so inordinate
a desire for food, had been intentionally starved for the occasion by
their owners, to make them the more eager to engage and overcome the
cobra so soon as let loose, and thus without fail or delay to insure a
pitched battle for the benefit of the spectators.
As the reader is probably aware, these combats between mongoose and
cobra have given rise to many differences of opinion and disputes
among naturalists; though I think that the careful inquiries and
numberless experiments made by scientific men in late years have
done much to clear up these old points of contention, and at the
same time have put to flight many delusions no longer tenable. For
instance, a common belief formerly prevailed 'that a mongoose, when
bitten in an engagement with a cobra or other venomous snake, was
in the habit of eating some kind of plant or root, which altogether
nullified the effects of the poison.' This extraordinary idea yet
prevails in some parts of India among certain classes of natives, who
to this day maintain that the mongoose, by means of some such specific
as I have mentioned, works a self-cure when bitten by a venomous
reptile. But it is a well-known fact that many tribes and castes are
exceedingly superstitious and obstinate, pertinaciously clinging to
the convictions, maxims, and customs handed down to them by their
forefathers; and with such people it is, generally speaking, useless to
enter into an argument.
We shall now proceed to consider a second and far more difficult
point to determine, and which, I think, yet remains a vexed question,
requiring further investigation. I refer to the supposition, which many
maintain, 'that the poison from the fangs of venomous snakes, though
so fatal in its results with most living creatures, is _innoxious
to the genus to which the mongoose belongs_, and that one of these
animals, beyond suffering pain from the bite of a cobra, sustains no
further harm or inconvenience.'
Many strong and weighty arguments have been urged in support of this
theory; and perhaps the most remarkable that has ever been brought
before the public appeared many years ago in an article published in
the _Churchman's Magazine_, entitled 'A Question in Natural History
settled at last.' The writer, after ably sustaining his view of
the question, concludes by publishing at length a most interesting
communication from India, giving a detailed account of a prolonged and
bloody engagement between mongoose and cobra. This letter was signed
by three officers of the Indian army, witnesses of the combat, and who
vouched for the strict accuracy of the report. The particulars of this
desperate duel, which actually lasted three-quarters of an hour, with
the various changes and incidents as the combat proceeded, are minutely
described; but after a gallantly contested battle, the mongoose proved
the victor, and the cobra was overcome and slain. The former, however,
did not come off scathless, but, on the contrary, received several
wounds, including one of great severity.
When the encounter was over, the witnesses proceeded to carefully
examine, with a magnifying glass, the wounds which the mongoose had
received, in order to ascertain and satisfy themselves of their extent
and nature; and mark the important discovery brought to light by aid
of the lens. I will quote the concluding words of the narrative: 'On
washing away the blood from one of these places the lens disclosed
_the broken fang of the cobra deeply imbedded in the head of the
mongoose_.... We have had the mongoose confined ever since (now four
days ago), and it is now as healthy and lively as ever.'
It cannot be denied that such clear and trustworthy evidence as
this carries considerable weight with it, and tends to bear out the
writer's view of the question. On the other hand, to deal impartially,
it is right to point out one or two weak points in carrying out this
otherwise well-conducted experiment, and which somewhat detract from
the results and consequent opinions arrived at.
In the first place, we are told that the cobra was only three feet
long, undoubtedly a very small one; and further, that previous to
engaging the mongoose, to make sure that the reptile was in full
possession of its fatal powers, it was made to bite a fowl, which died
soon after. This certainly clearly proved that the snake's deadly
machinery was in full working order. But the experimentalists appear to
have forgotten that by this very act they were in a measure disarming
the cobra, for it is a well-known fact that the _first_ bite of a
venomous snake is most to be feared; and that a second bite by the same
reptile, if delivered shortly after the first, owing to the poison
having been partially exhausted by the first effort, is less deadly in
its effects.
So that, all things considered, and fully allowing that this account
strengthens the assertion that the mongoose is really proof against
the effects of snake-poison, I am yet of opinion that the question
is not finally and conclusively settled, more especially as later
experiments, quite as fairly and carefully carried out, have terminated
differently, and resulted in the death of the plucky little fellow.