Dissension and discussion have raged for years about the hideous
head of the Gila monster. This great lizard of the Southwest has
been pronounced absolutely deadly by one set of partisans, and
absolutely harmless by another. Somewhere between lies the truth.
If any human being has actually been bitten by a heloderma, the
event has either escaped notice or has been so hedged about with
obstructive legend as to have forfeited scientific credence. But
the saurian itself has been studied and dissected, and its venom
has been analyzed. The venom is related to snake poison, but is
neither crotaline nor elapine. From animal experiments it is
thought that it might be fatal to man under unfavorable
conditions. There are no fangs proper. The poison gland is in the
lower jaw, instead of in the upper, as in snakes, and its product
is projected through small ducts which open in the gums outside
the teeth. The Gila monster has the grip of a bulldog. Torture
will not loosen its hold, once fastened on. It is through this
intimate contact that the venom works into the wounds.
Fortunately, the lizard is slow to anger, and prefers flight to
battle, so it is likely to be long before science has an
opportunity of studying the effect of its envenomed jaw-clamp
upon man. There are a few vaguely rumored reports of prospectors
having perished, in the desert, of Gila monster poison, but these
are so confused with symptoms suspiciously resembling alcoholic
poisoning as to lead Dr. R. W. Shufeldt, an authority upon the
Reptilia, to remark that "a quart of raw whisky, practically
given at one dose, may prove more fatal than the bite of ten
helodermas."
Almost any kind of an insect bite or sting MAY prove fatal. So
may a pin scratch, if the blood of the subject be in bad enough
condition. There is a well-substantiated case of a trained nurse
who died from blood poisoning following a mosquito bite. Ant bite
has resulted fatally, as has a single sting from the common wasp.
No one, however, considers these everyday insects as "deadly."
But substitute "scorpion" for "ant," and "centipede" for "wasp,"
and shrieks of dismay rise from the general throat. Yet perhaps
there is no other variety of harmful creature whose reputation
rests upon so meager a foundation as that of these two.
True, an El Paso report claims that a man stung by a whip
scorpion died in twelve hours; but the details are so vague as to
be in a high degree unconvincing. Dr. Eugene Murray-Aaron, a
witness of unimpeachable scientific competency, describes the
sting, after several personal encounters with the vigorous
tropical species, as no worse than that of a large hornet. Dr. L.
B. Rowland, of Florida, says: "My wife has been stung several
times [by the common scorpion]. It is like a wasp sting, only."