handicaps. They are hated and destroyed by all men, they can
neither run nor fly far away, and they subsist under maximum
difficulties. Those of the temperate zone are ill fitted to
withstand the rigors of winter.
And yet the serpents survive; and we have not heard of any species
having become extinct during our own times.
It is indeed worth while to "consider the wisdom of the serpent."
Without the exercise of keen intelligence all the snakes of the
cultivated lands of the world long ago would have been
exterminated. The success of serpents of all species in meeting
new conditions and maintaining their existence in the face of
enormous difficulties compels us, as reasoning beings, to accord
to them keen intelligence and ratiocination.
The poisonous serpents afford a striking illustration of reason
and folly en masse. The total number of venomous species is really
great, and their distribution embraces practically the whole of
the torrid and temperate zones. They are too numerous for mention
here; and their capacity for mischief to man is very great. Our
own country has at least eighteen species of poisonous snakes,
including the rattlesnakes, the copperhead, moccasin, and coral
snakes. All these, however, are remarkably pacific. Without
exception they are non-aggressive, and they attack only when they
think they are exposed to danger, and must defend themselves or
die. Hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of our people have
tramped through the woods and slept in the sage-brush and creosote
bushes of the rattlesnake, and waded through swamps full of
moccasins, with never a bite. In America only about two persons
per year are bitten by _wild_ rattlesnakes.
Our snakes, and all but a very few of the other poison-snake
species of the world, know that _it pays to keep the peace._
Now, what if all snakes were as foolishly aggressive as the hooded
and spectacled cobras of India? Let us see.
Those cobra species are man-haters. They love to attack and do
damage. They go out of their way to bite people. They crawl into
huts and bungalows, especially during the monsoon rains, and they
infest thatch roofs. But are they wise, and retiring, like the
house-haunting gopher snake of the South?
By no means. The cobra goes around with a chip on his shoulder. In
India they kill from 17,000 to 18,000 people annually! And in
return, about 117,000 cobras are killed annually. It is a mighty
fortunate thing for humanity on the frontier that the other
serpents of the world know that it is a good thing to behave
themselves, and not bite unnecessarily.
Fighting Its Own Kind. The Indian cobra, (_Naia tripudians_),
is an exception to the rule of serpents that forbids fighting in
the family. While cobras in captivity usually do live together in
a state of vicious and fully-armed neutrality, sometimes they do
fight. One of our cobras once attacked a cage-mate two-thirds the
size of itself, vanquished it, seized it by the head and swallowed
two-thirds of it before the tragedy was discovered. The assailant
was compelled to disgorge his prey, but the victim was very dead.
The poison venom of the cobra, rattlesnake, bushmaster and puff
adder is a great handicap on the social standing of the entire
serpent family. Mankind in general abhors snakes, both in general
and particular. The snake not actually known to be venomous
usually is suspected of being so. It is only the strongest mental
constitution that can permit a snake to go unkilled when the
killing opportunity offers. It is just as natural for the lay
brother to kill a chicken snake because it looks like a
copperhead, or a hog-nosed blowing "viper" because it looks like a
rattlesnake, as it is to shy at a gun that "may be loaded."
To American plainsmen, the non-aggressive temper of the
rattlesnake is well known, and it is also a positive asset. I
never knew one who was nervously afraid while sleeping in the open
that snakes would come and crawl into his bed, or mix up with his
camp. Of course all frontiersmen kill rattlers, as a sort of
bounden duty to society, but I once knew an eastern man to turn
loose a rattlesnake that he had photographed, in the observance
of his principle never to kill an animal whose picture he had
taken. Subsequently it was gravely reported that one of the
restive horses of the outfit had "accidentally" killed that
rattler by stepping upon it.
A Summary of Poisonous Snakes. There are about 300,000 poisonous
snakes in the United States, and 110,000,000 people for them to
bite; but more people are bitten by captive snakes than by wild
ones.
A fool and his snake are soon parted.
There are 200,000 rattlesnakes in our country, but all of them
will let you alone if you will let them alone.
If your police record is clear, you can sleep safely in the sage-
brush.
If ever you need to camp in a cave, remember that in warm weather
the rattlesnakes are all out hunting, and will not return until
the approach of winter.
The largest snakes of the world exist only in the human mind.
The rattlesnake is a world-beater at minding his own business.
Men do far more fighting per capita than any snakes yet
discovered.
The road to an understanding of the minds of serpents is long and
difficult. Perhaps the best initial line of approach is through a
well-stocked Reptile House. Having studied somewhat
in that school I have emerged with a fixed belief that of all
vertebrate creatures, snakes are the least understood, and also
the most thoroughly misunderstood.
[Illustration: A
PEACE CONFERENCE WITH AN ARIZONA RATTLESNAKE "You let me alone and
I won't harm you" (From "Camp-Fires on Desert and Lava")]
[Illustration: HAWK-PROOF NEST OF A CACTUS WREN Placed in the
centre of a tree choya cactus of Arizona and defended by 10 000
hostile spines (From "Camp-Fires on Desert and Lava")]
The world at large debits serpents with being far more quarrelsome
and aggressive than they really are, and it credits them with
knowing far less than they do know.
Attitude of Snakes Toward Each Other. Toward each other, the
members of the various serpent species are tolerant, patient and
peaceful to the last degree. You may place together in one cage
twenty big Texas rattlers, or twenty ugly cottonmouth moccasins
from the Carolinas, a hundred garter snakes, twenty boa
constrictors, or six big pythons, and if the various
_species_ are kept separate there will be no fighting. You
may stir them up to any reasonable extent, and make them keen to
strike you, but they do not attack each other.
There are, however, many species that will not mix together in
peace. For example, the king snake of New Jersey hates the
rattlesnake, no matter what his address may be. Being by habit a
constrictor, the king snake at once winds himself tightly around
the neck of the rattler,--and proceeds to choke him to death.
The king cobra devours other snakes, as food, and wishes nothing
else.
The Gopher Snake. Some snakes that feel sure you will not harm
them will permit you to handle them without a protest or a fight.
The most spectacular example is the gopher snake of the
southeastern United States. This handsome, lustrous, blue-black
species is six feet long, shiny, and as clean and smooth as ivory.
Its members are famous rat-killers. You can pick up a wild one
wherever you find it, and it will not bite you. They do not at all
object to being handled, even by timorous lady visitors who never
before have touched a live snake; and in the South they are
tolerated by farmers for the good they do as rat catchers.
The Wisdom of a Big Python. Once I witnessed an example of snake
intelligence on a large scale, which profoundly impressed me.
A reticulated python about twenty-two feet long arrived from
Singapore with its old skin dried down upon its body. The snake
had been many weeks without a bath, and it had been utterly unable
to shed its old skin on schedule time. It was necessary to remove
all that dead epidermis, without delay.
The great serpent, fully coiled, was taken out of its box, sprayed
with warm water, and gently deposited on the gravel floor of our
most spacious python apartment. Later on pails of warm water,
sponges and forceps were procured, and five strong keepers were
assembled for active service.
The first step was to get the snake safely into the hands of the
men, and fully under control. A stream of cold water from a hose
was suddenly shot in a deluge upon the python's head, and while it
was disconcerted and blinded by the flood, it was seized by the
neck, close behind the head. Immediately the waiting keepers
seized it by the body, from neck to tail, and straightened it out,
to prevent coiling. Strong hands subdued its struggles, and
without any violence stretched the writhing wild monster upon the
floor.
Then began the sponging and peeling process. The frightened snake
writhed and resisted, probably feeling sure that its last hour had
come. The men worked quietly, spoke soothingly, and the work
proceeded successfully. With the lapse of time the serpent became
aware of the fact that it was not to be harmed; for it became
quiet, and lay still. At the same time, we all dreaded the crisis
that we thought would come when the jaws and the head would be
reached.
By the time the head was reached, the snake lay perfectly passive.
Beyond all doubt, it understood the game that was being played.
Now, the epidermis of a snake covers the entire head, _including
the eyes!_ And what would that snake do when the time came to
remove the scales from its eyes and lips? It continued to lie
perfectly still! When the pulling off of the old skin hurt the new
skin underneath, the head flinched slightly, just as any hurt
flesh will flinch by reflex action; but that was absolutely all.
For a long hour or more, and even when the men pulled the dead
scales from those eyes and lips, that strange creature made no
resistance or protest. I have seen many people fight their doctors
for less.
That wild, newly-caught jungle snake quickly had recognized the
situation, and acted its part with a degree of sense and
appreciation that was astounding. I do not know of any _adult
wild_ mammal that would have shown that kind and degree of
wisdom under similar circumstances.
Do Snakes "Charm" Birds? Sometimes a wild bird will sit still upon
its nest while a big pilot blacksnake, or some other serpent
equally bad, climbs up and poises its head before the motionless
and terrified bird until at last the serpent seizes the bird to
devour it. The bird victim really seems to be "charmed" by its
enemy. If there were not some kind of a hypnotic spell cast over
the bird, would it not fly away?
I think this strange proceeding is easily explainable by any one
with sufficient imagination to put himself in the bird's place. It
is the rule of a sitting bird to sit tight, not to be scared off
by trifles, and to take great risks rather than expose her eggs to
cold and destruction. The ascent and approach of the serpent is
absolutely noiseless. Not a leaf is stirred. The potential mother
of a brood calmly sits with eyes half closed, at peace with all
the world. Suddenly, and with a horrible shock, she discovers a
deadly serpent's multi-fanged head and glittering eyes staring at
her _within easy striking distance._
The horrified mother bird feels that she is lost. She knows full
well that with any movement to escape the serpent instantly will
launch its attack. _Her one hope,_ and seemingly her only
chance for life, is that _if she remains motionless_ the
serpent will go its way without harming her. (Think of the
thousands of helpless men, women and children who have hoped and
acted similarly in the presence of bandits and hold-up men
presenting loaded revolvers! But they were far from being
"charmed.")
The bird hopes, and sits still, _paralyzed with fear._ At its
leisure the serpent strikes; and after a certain number of
horrible minutes, all is over. I think there is no real "charm"
exercised in the tragedy; but that there is on the part of the
bird a paralysis of fear, which is in my opinion a well defined
emotion, common in animals and in men. I have seen it in many
animals.
Snakes that Feign Death. The common hog-nosed snake, mistakenly
called the "puff-adder" and blowing "viper" (_Heterodon
platyrhinus_) of the New England states, often feigns death
when it is caught in the open, and picked up. It will "play
'possum" while you carry it by its tail, head downward, or hang
its limp body over a fence. Of course it hopes to escape by its
very clever ruse, and no doubt it often does so from the hands of
inexperienced persons.
Do Snakes Swallow Their Young? I _think_ not. A number of
persons solemnly have declared that they have seen snakes do so,
but no _herpetologist_ ever has seen an occurrence of that
kind. I believe that all of the best authorities on serpents
believe that snakes do not swallow their young. The theory of the
pro-swallowists is that the mother snake takes her young into her
interior to provide for their safety, and that they do not go as
far down as the stomach. The anti-swallowists declare that the
powerful digestive juices of the stomach of a snake would quickly
kill any snakelets coming in contact with it; and I believe that
this is true.
At present the snake-swallowing theory must be ticketed "not
proven," and is filed for further reference.
The Hoop Snake Fable. There is no such thing as a "hoop-snake"
save in the vivid imaginations of a very few men.
The Intelligence of the King Cobra. Curator of Reptiles Raymond
L. Ditmars regards the huge king cobra of the Malay Peninsula, the
largest of all poisonous serpents, as quite the wisest serpent
known to him. He says its mind is alert and responsive to a very
unusual degree in serpents, and that it manifests a keen interest
in everything that is going on around it, especially at feeding-
time. This is quite the reverse of the usual sluggish and
apathetic serpent mind in captivity.
Incidentally, I would like very much to know just what our present
twelve-foot cobra thought when, upon its arrival at its present
home, its total blindness was relieved by the thrillingly skilful
removal of the _two layers_ of dead scales that had closed
over and finally adhered to each orbit.
The vision of the king cobra is keen, and its temper is not easily
ruffled. Its temperament seems to be sanguine, which is just the
opposite of the nervous-combative hooded and spectacled cobra
species.
The So-called "Snake Charmers" of India. Herpetologists generally
discredit the idea that a peripatetic Hindu can "charm" a cobra
any farther or more quickly than any snake-keeper. In the first
place, the fangs of the serpent are totally removed,--by a very
savage and painful process. After that, the unfortunate snake is
in no condition to fight or to flee. It seeks only to be let
alone, and the musical-pipe business is to impress the mind of the
observer.
Serpent Psychology an Unplowed Field. At this date (1922) we know
only the rudiments of serpent intelligence and temperament. In the
wilds, serpents are most elusive and difficult to determine. In
captivity they are passive and undemonstrative. We do not know how
much memory they have, they rarely show what they think, and on
most subjects we do not know where they stand. But the future will
change all this. During the past twenty years the number of
herpetologists in the United States has increased about tenfold.
It is fairly impossible that serpent psychology should much longer
remain unstudied, and unrevealed along the lines of plain common-
sense.
The Ways of Crocodiles. The ways of crocodiles are dark and deep;
their thoughts are few and far between. Their wisdom is above that
of the tortoises and turtles, but below that of the serpents. I
have had field experience with four species of crocodilians in the
New World and three in the Old. With but slight exceptions they
all think alike and act alike.
The great salt-water crocodile of the Malay Peninsula and Borneo
is the only real man-eater I ever met. Except under the most
provocative circumstances, all the others I have met are
practically harmless to man. This includes the Florida species,
the Orinoco crocodile, the little one from Cuba, the alligator,
the Indian gavial and the Indian crocodile (_C. palustris_).
The salt-water crocodile, that I have seen swimming out in the
ocean two miles or more from shore, is in Borneo a voracious man-
eater. It skilfully stalks its prey in the murky rivers where
Malay and Dyak women and children come down to the village bathing
place to dip up water and to bathe. There, unseen in the muddy
water, the monster glides up stealthily, seizes his victim by the
leg, and holding it tightly backs off into deep water and
disappears. The victims are drowned, not bitten to death.
I found in Ceylon that the Indian crocodile is a shameless
cannibal, devouring the skinned carcasses of its relatives
whenever an opportunity offered.
The Florida crocodile is the shrewdest species of all those I know
personally. It has the strange habit of digging out deep and
spacious burrows for concealment, in the perpendicular sandy
banks of southern Florida rivers where the deep water comes right
up to the shore. Starting well under low-water mark, the crock
digs in the yielding sand, straight into the bank, a roomy
subterranean chamber. In this snug retreat he once was safe from
all his enemies,--until the fatal day when his secret was
discovered, and revealed to a grasping world. Since that time, the
Alligator Joes of Palm Beach and Miami have made a business of
personally conducting parties of northern visitors, at $50 per
catch, to witness the adventure of catching a nine-foot crocodile
alive. The dens are located by probing the sand with long iron
rods. A rope noose is set over the den's entrance, and when all is
ready, a confederate probes the crocodile out of its den and into
the fatal noose.
Today the Florida crocodile is so nearly extinct that it required
two years of diligent inquiry to produce one live specimen subject
to purchase.
Common Sense in the Common Toad. Last spring, in planting a lot of
trees on our lawn, a round tree-hole that stood for several days
unoccupied finally accumulated about a dozen toads. Its two feet
of straight depth was unscalable, and when finally discovered the
toads were tired of their imprisonment. Partly as a test of their
common-sense, Mr. George T. Fielding placed a six-inch board in
the hole, at an angle of about thirty degrees, but fairly leading
out of the trap.
In very quick time the toads recognized the possibilities of the
inclined plane and hopped upward to liberty. In the use of this
opportunity they showed more wisdom than our mountain sheep
manifest concerning the same kind of an improvement designed to
enable them to reach the roof of their building. XVII
THE TRAINING OF WILD ANIMALS
Before we enter this chapter let us pause a moment on the
threshold, and consider the logic of animal training and
performances.
Logic is only another name for reason. Its reverse side is
fanaticism; and that way madness lies. It is the duty of every
sane man and woman to consider the cold logic of every question
affecting the welfare of man and nature. Fanaticism when carried
to extremes can become a misdemeanor or a crime. The soft-hearted
fanaticism of humanics that saves a brutal murderer, or would-be
murderer like Berkman, from the gallows or the chair, and
eventually turns him loose to commit more crimes against innocent
people, is not only wrong, and wicked, but in aggravated cases it
is a _crime_ against society.
Just now there is a tiny wave of agitation against all
performances of trained wild animals, and the keeping of animals
in captivity, on the ground that all this is "cruel" and inhumane.
The Jacklondon Society of Boston is working hard to get up steam
for this crusade, but thus far with only partial success. Its
influence is confined to a very small area.
Now, what is the truth of this matter? Is it true that trained
wild animals are cruelly abused in the training, or in compelling
them to perform? Is it true that in making animals perform on the
stage, or in the circus ring, their rights are wickedly infringed?
Is it the duty of the American people to stop all performances by
animals? Is it wicked to make wild animals, or cats and dogs,
_work_ for a living, as men and women do? Is it true that
captive animals in zoological parks and gardens are miserable and
unhappy, and that all such institutions should be "abolished?"
What is truth?
In the first place, there is no sound reasoning or logic in
assuming that the persons of animals, tame or wild, are any more
sacred than those of men, women and children. We hold that it is
no more "cruelty" for an ape or a dog to work in training quarters
or on the stage than it is for men, women and young people to work
as acrobats, or actors, or to engage in honest toil eight hours
per day. Who gave to any warm-blooded animal that consumes food
and requires shelter the right to live without work? _No
one!_ I am sure that no trained bear of my acquaintance ever
had to work as hard for his food and shelter as does the average
bear out in the wilds. In order to find enough to eat the latter
is compelled to hustle hard from dawn till dark. I have seen that
the Rocky Mountain grizzly feels forced to dig a big hole three
feet deep in hard, rocky ground, to get one tiny ground squirrel
the size of a chipmunk,--and weighing only eight or nine ounces.
Now, has he anything "on" the performing bear? Decidedly not.
I regard the sentimental Jacklondon idea, that no wild animal
should be made to work on the stage or in the show-ring, as
illogical and absurd. Human beings who sanely work are much
happier per capita than those who do nothing but loaf and grouch.
I have worked, horse-hard, throughout all the adult years of my
life; and it has been good for me. I know that it is no more wrong
or wicked for a horse to work for his living,--of course on a
humane basis,--either on the stage or on the street, than it is
for a coal-carrier, a foundryman, a farmer, a bookkeeper, a school
teacher or a housewife to do the day's work.
The person of a wild animal is no more sacred than is that of a
man or woman. A sound whack for an unruly elephant, bear or horse
is just as helpful as it is for an unruly boy who needs to be
shown that order is heaven's first law.
In the presence of the world's toiling and sweating millions, in
the presence of millions of children in the home sweat-shops and
factories working their little lives out for their daily crust and
a hard bed, what shall we think and say of the good, kind-hearted
people who are spending time and energy in crusading against
trained animal performances?
The vast majority of performing animals are trained by humane men
and women, practicing kindness to the utmost; and they are the
last persons in the world who would be willing to have their
valuable stock roughly handled, neglected or in any manner cruelly
treated.
So far as zoological parks and gardens are concerned, they are no
more in need of defense than the Rocky Mountains.
Every large zoological park is a school of wild-animal education
and training; and it is literally a continuous performance. Let
no one suppose that there is no training of wild beasts save for
the circus ring and the vaudeville stage. Of the total number of
large and important mammals that come into our zoological parks,
the majority of them actually are trained to play becomingly their
respective parts. An intractable and obstinate animal soon becomes
a nuisance.