_DO SNAKES AFFORD A REFUGE TO THEIR YOUNG?_
THE question, ‘Do vipers swallow their young in times of danger?’ is
one less easy to solve to the satisfaction of the unbelievers than
some of the preceding inquiries, because the proof demanded is an
almost unattainable one. ‘Bring me a viper with its mouth tied up,
and all her young ones in her _throat_, and then I will believe you,’
say the sceptics. Now, in the first place, a man does not go hedging
and ditching, or to reap corn, nor does a gentleman go to his field
sports, or for a country stroll, ready provided with a cord and a bag
and an assistant for the express purpose of capturing maternal vipers,
who at sight of him receive all their little ones into their mouths;
and, in the second place, if he did so, making it the one business of
his walk to seek for and entrap such vipers, he might spend a great
many summers in the search before his trouble was rewarded. Even were
he so fortunate, it is doubtful whether he would be believed by all
persons; for viper-swallowing, like ‘the Great Sea Serpent,’ has been
a subject so contemptuously dismissed that investigation is arrested,
and few in England would now risk their reputation by committing their
names to print in connection with it. It is much to be regretted that
this has of late years been the case with several English publications
whose columns should be open to a fair examination of evidence on
all zoological questions. The influence of such journals, therefore,
checks progress; for until prejudice is got rid of, there can be no
advancement in any science.
As is well known, the late Mr. Frank Buckland was to the last sceptical
on this question. His specialty was not ophiology; but the mass of
readers do not stop to inquire about this; and he, being a popular
writer as well as a popular character, was accredited by thousands who
quoted him, while themselves no naturalists, nor in any position to
form an independent opinion. Some contemporary journals unfortunately
display the same prejudices, even at the time of writing, causing
zoological publications, which should embrace every branch of biology,
to be devoted almost exclusively to the specialties of an editor.
Happily this scepticism is not universal. In the American publications
devoted to zoology, information in every branch is welcomed as worthy
of consideration; and though truth has often to be sifted out from a
very gigantic pile of rubbish, still it is worth the search; and we
can but feel that the rapid advance of our Transatlantic relatives in
every branch of science is due, in a great measure, to the dismissal of
prejudice and to the encouragement of every new idea.
So far as snakes are concerned, their field is wide, it is true. In
England our observations are limited to our one viper, whereas America
is the land of snakes, no less than are India and Australia; and while
our native viper is growing rarer every year, the opportunities for
observation in the Western World are wherever a new settlement is
planted.
Thus, when, in February 1873, Professor G. Browne Goode, of Middletown
University, Connecticut, invited, through the columns of the _American
Agriculturist_, all the authentic information that could be procured on
the question, ‘Do snakes swallow their young?’ he received, as he tells
us, no less than 120 testimonies from as many persons in various parts
of the United States that single season.
The area in which information was collected included twenty-four States
and counties, ‘almost all the evidence being valuable.’
Professor Goode was intending to bring the subject before the _American
Association for the Advancement of Science_, to convene at Portland,
Maine, the following August; and he spent the summer in collecting
information.
At that session of 1873, in the Biological Section of the Association,
‘A Science Convention on Snakes’ was held, and a paper was read
by Professor G. Browne Goode, the subject offered for discussion
being—‘_Do snakes offer a temporary refuge for their young in their
throats, whence they emerge when the danger is past?_’ On this occasion
the chair was occupied by Mr. F. W. Putnam, one of the editors of the
_American Naturalist_, and secretary to the Association. Professor
Joseph Lovering was the new President on Professor Lawrence Smith’s
retiring; and among those who took part in the discussion were several
eminent naturalists New York and other journals published reports of
the Convention at the time; and the entire paper by Professor Goode was
given to the world in the Annual Reports of the _American Association_.
From these I will condense the principal matter, quoting also from a
paper on the same subject written by F. W. Putnam in vol. ii. of the
_American Naturalist_ for 1869. Indeed, the two accounts are so blended
that I can only recommend both to the perusal of the interested reader,
Professor Goode having reproduced much from Putnam’s paper in the
_American Naturalist_, which, as he informs us, was the first that led
him to take an interest in the subject.
He began by reminding his audience that it had long been a popular
belief that the young of certain snakes seek a temporary protection
from danger by gliding down the open throat of the mother, though it
had been of late doubted by so many naturalists as to be classed among
the superstitions; but that now a summing up of the evidence would show
conclusively that the popular idea is sustained by facts.
The traditions of the North American Indians show that the belief has
prevailed with them from prehistoric times. In England also, as he
reminded us, as early as the sixteenth century, allusions to it are
found in Spencer’s _Faerie Queene_, 1590, Canto I. vv. 14, 15, 22, 25.
From this a word or two only need be quoted regarding the
‘Half serpent, half woman,’
with
‘One thousand young ones sucking upon her poison dugs,’
when she is disturbed in her dark cave:
‘Soon as that uncouth light upon them shone,
Into her mouth they crept, and suddaine all were gone.’
Again, in Sir Thomas Browne’s _Pseudoxia_, or ‘Vulgar Errours,
published in 1672, we find: ‘For the young ones will upon any fright,
for protection run into the belly of the Dam. For then the old one
receives them into her mouth, which way, the fright being passed, they
will returne againe; which is a peculiar way of refuge.’
He quotes from the _Humorous Lieutenant_ of Beaumont and Fletcher the
words, ‘This is the old viper, and all the young ones creep every night
into her belly.’
The Professor also mentioned the American traveller, Mr. Jonathan
Carver, who, towards the end of the last century, recorded that he had
seen a large brood of young rattlesnakes retire for safety into the
throat of the parent, which he killed, when no less than seventy young
ones made their escape. Practical experience demands, How had he time
to reckon up these active, wriggling, tangled fugitives? Nevertheless
his story found favour and has been subsequently recited as probable.
Chateaubriand believed the fact, and glowingly expatiates on the
‘Superb Reptile which presents to man a pattern of tenderness.’ ...
‘When her offspring are pursued, she receives them into her mouth:
dissatisfied with every other place of concealment, she hides them
within herself, concluding that no asylum can be safer for her progeny
than the bosom of a mother. A perfect example of sublime love, she
refuses to survive the loss of her young, for it is impossible to
deprive her of them without tearing out her entrails.’ Elsewhere, with
less of admiration for the exemplary _crotalus_, Chateaubriand says,
‘By a singular faculty the female can introduce into her body the
little monsters to which she has given birth.’
One of the early writers who witnessed this offer of refuge was M. de
Beauvoir, who saw a disturbed rattlesnake open her jaws to receive five
young ones. This amazed spectator retired to quietly watch the result,
when, after the lapse of some minutes, the mother snake recovered
confidence, and she again opened her mouth and ‘discharged’ her little
family. Professor Palisot de Beauvoir was an eminent French naturalist
of the beginning of this century, and the author of _Observations sur
les serpents_, published in _Daudin’s Histoire naturelle_, Paris,
1803. He was accepted as an authority on many other points of natural
history; and it is not improbable that he influenced Cuvier’s belief in
the ophidian maternal refuge.
It certainly does seem incredible that an occurrence so unprecedented
should have been conceived of in the first instance without some ocular
demonstration of it.
Another American traveller, whose testimony Professor Goode considered
of worth, was St. John Dunn Hunter,[132] who saw young ones rush into
the rattlesnake’s mouth, and reappear when ‘the parent gave a sort of
contractile motion of the throat as a sign that danger was past.’
Coming down to our own times, Professor Goode mentioned Dr. Edward
Palmer, of the Smithsonian Institute of Washington, a well-known
traveller and collector, who in Paraguay saw seven young _crotali_
run into their mother’s mouth. After the snake was killed, they all
ran out. The parent and her brood are now in the National Museum at
Washington, D.C. Similar occurrences were witnessed by Professor
Sydney J. Smith, of Yale College; the Rev. Chauncey Loomis, M.D.,
of Middletown University; Dr. D. L. Phares; Mr. Thomas Meham of
Philadelphia; a member of the Convention then present; and other
‘gentlemen whose statements as naturalists were not to be doubted.’
‘Due weight should be given to the wide distribution of the witnesses
and the remarkable concurrence of their statements,’ said the speaker.
Professors Wyman and Gill, and other physiologists then present, showed
that there is no physical reason why young snakes should not remain
for a time in the body of the mother. The gastric juice acts slowly
on living tissues, and as for respiration, it is almost impossible to
smother reptiles. ‘Snakes can live for a long time immersed in water,
and even in bottles hermetically sealed, and why not in a place of
refuge?’ argued Mr. Putnam. Instances were given of frogs escaping
from the stomach of snakes; also of other snakes swallowed by a larger
species returning to the light of day.
As a habit, if the swallowing ‘is not protective there is no parallel;
if protective, a similar habit is seen in some fishes of the South
American waters, of the genera _Arius_, _Bagrus_, and _Geophagus_,
where the males carry the eggs for safety in their mouths and gill
openings.’ Mr. Putnam instanced the Pipe-fish (_Syngnathus Peckianus_),
whose young when in an aquarium have been seen to go in and out of the
pouch of the male fish; and that a belief prevails among some sailors
that young sharks which suddenly disappear have gone into the mouth of
the mother. Some South American fishes carry their eggs in their mouth,
and why should there not exist an equally motherly regard on the part
of snakes?
Mr. F. W. Putnam, secretary to the Association, had made himself
acquainted with all the English ‘viper-swallowing’ literature of
any importance up to the date of his paper on the subject in the
_American Naturalist_, 1869. Previous to that date, _Science Gossip_,
the _Field_, the _Zoologist_, and other English journals had devoted
more space to the subject than subsequently; and from these Mr.
Putnam cited many records from intelligent observers, in proof ‘that
snakes _do afford refuge to their young_.’ Of especial importance,
as corroborative evidence, were the statements and anatomical
investigations of Dr. Edwardes Crispe, F.Z.S., etc., who had for a long
while been studying the physiological possibility of such a retreat.
On the question, Would not the young snakes be rapidly digested in the
stomach of the parent? this anatomist showed that they would not come
in contact with the gastric juice at all, and that there is ample room
in the expansile œsophagus to receive them. He had made experiments
with various snakes by filling the stomach with water, in order to
ascertain its capacity in bulk. In 1855, Dr. E. Crispe had read a paper
on this subject at one of the meetings of the Zoological Society, and
again in 1862, when his previous opinions had become confirmed. He
had ‘positive evidence enabling him to state with certainty that the
English viper and some other venomous snakes do swallow their young at
an early period.’
Towards the end of the last century, Gilbert White, in his _History of
Selborne_, refers to the prevalent theory, and the instances recorded
by him are by the earlier editors of his works regarded rather as
evidence than the contrary. In the edition of 1851, the editor Jesse,
himself a naturalist, took pains to ascertain facts concerning vipers,
and he believed in the evidence given him. He had found vipers in their
mother’s ‘stomach’ (he does not say oviduct) ‘of a much larger size
(seven inches) than they would be when first excluded.’
(In the later editions of the _History of Selborne_, it is much to be
regretted that doubts are again thrown on the subject; and this in face
of the opinions of men of eminence, who had written from observation,
and had physiologically shown the possibility of such a refuge.)
Mr. Putnam also quoted Mr. M. C. Cooke, the author of _Our Reptiles_,
and at that time editor of _Science Gossip_. Here is a herpetologist
well able to form an unbiassed opinion, and who in his work says on
this question: ‘Men of science and repute, clergymen, naturalists, in
common with those who make no profession of learning, have combined in
this belief. Add to these, gentlemen whose statements in other branches
of natural history would not be doubted.’ Among them were Henry
Doubleday, Esq. of Epping, a well-known entomologist; the Rev. H. Bond,
of South Pellerton, Somerset; T. H. Gurney, of Calton Hall, Norwich,
a well-known ornithologist; and several others of similar scientific
standing.
Curiously, no one appears to doubt a similar maternal instinct as
displayed in our little native lizard, _Zootica vivipara_! Mr.
Doubleday related the case of one being accidentally trodden upon,
when three young ones ran out of her mouth. It was immediately killed
and opened, and two others that had been too much injured by the foot
to make their escape were still within the parent. At the time when
a controversy on the viper question was going on, Mr. Edward Newman
edited the _Zoologist_, and he himself related a most confirmatory case
of this viviparous lizard. A gentleman who was collecting, caught one
with two young ones; all three were consigned to his pocket _vasculum_.
On reaching home the two young ones had disappeared, and the mother
looked in such goodly condition that he thought she must have made a
meal of her offspring. Next morning, behold! there were the two little
ones and their devoted parent all safe and sound. She had sheltered
them within her body! And, as Mr. Newman added, ‘the narrators are of
that class who do know what to observe and how to observe it.’
In May 1865 a clergyman in Norfolk communicated to _Science Gossip_
that he had seen six or seven young vipers run helter-skelter down
their mother’s throat. He killed the parent and ‘out came the little
ones.’ In July another correspondent of the same paper saw several
young vipers vanish in a like manner, adding, ‘By the way the mother
opened her mouth to receive them, he would say they were accustomed to
that sort of thing.’ Mr. J. H. Gurney recorded that a viper with young
ones was disturbed, when two of the latter ran into her open mouth, the
second one after getting half in wriggling out again. The viper was
cut open to seek a reason for this, when a recently swallowed mouse
was found stopping up the way. The first had managed to get into safe
quarters, but the second could not pass.
In Oct. 1866 the question was revived by Mr. Thomas Rider, who wrote
to the _Field_ newspaper that on September 21st he had seen a number of
little vipers about three inches long run down their mother’s throat.
His account was followed by a number of letters from various persons,
who very lamely tried to convince him that his eyes had deceived him;
that what he had seen was the wriggling tongue, and a good deal more
of such feeble talk, which Mr. Rider took in gentlemanly good-humour.
He further described that at first he clearly saw the young ones _at
a distance_ from the parent; that, the latter being killed, the young
were found _within_ her; that in carrying her, two of them had _fallen
out of her mouth_; that he felt quite sure that what he stated was
correct. His description was so graphic and evidently truthful that
the distinguished naturalist Thomas Bell wrote also to the _Field_ to
express his great satisfaction at so authentic an account, confirming
his own previous impressions. ‘I did not doubt the fact before,’ he
said, in the _Field_ of October 27th, 1866, ‘but such an attestation as
this from such an authority’ (an educated country gentleman) ‘must be
considered as settling the question.’
For the next few weeks in the Natural History columns of the _Field_
a number of letters from various persons appeared, the majority
taking up the cudgels to resent the insult offered to Mr. Rider and
the eminent herpetologist Thomas Bell, F.L.S., F.R.S., and one of the
Council of the Zoological Society; and to quote still other cases of
viper-swallowing. ‘Only a purblind, stupid person,’ wrote one of them,
‘could possibly mistake young vipers for a tongue.’
J. Scott Hayward, Esq. of Folkington, Sussex, wrote that three of his
men while haymaking found a viper, and one of them crushed its head
with his boot. A young viper ‘scrabbled’ about his boot after its
mother. They then cut off the viper’s head, and seven young vipers
crawled out at the neck. The other had been too late, but was evidently
trying to follow the rest. There was no possibility of mistaking
seven little vipers for one hair-like tongue in this case; but a man
‘convinced against his will,’ etc., and therefore the editor again
abruptly closed the subject.
Of the hundred or more instances occurring in America, and now
presented to the assembly, those considered of especial interest
were published in the Reports of the Association; and after some
further discussion Professor Gill said that he considered the evidence
sufficient to finally decide the matter. ‘Since many important facts in
biology are accepted on the statements of one single observer, these
testimonies are claimed to be sufficient to set the matter for ever at
rest.’
This was the conclusion arrived at by the members of the American
‘Science Convention on Snakes,’ in 1873.
Of the witnesses introduced on that occasion, Professor Goode dismissed
those who had only _found_ the young snakes within the parent, but had
not _seen_ them enter. ‘Let us not trust to untrained observations,’
he said; those whose testimony was accepted being, in addition to the
well-known men already mentioned—‘an intelligent class of farmers,
planters, and business men, intelligent readers of an agricultural
magazine.’ ... ‘The well-attested cases included many non-venomous
species, the habit probably extending to _all those which are known
as oviparous_, as well as the _Crotalidæ_. The examples embraced the
garter snake, _Eutania sirtalis_ and _E. saurita_; the water snake,
_Tropidonotus sipedon_; the rattlesnake, _Caudisona horridus_; the
copper-head and moccasin, _Ancistrodon contortrix_ and _piscivorus_;
the “_Massasauga_,” _Crotalus tergiminus_; the English viper, _Pelias
berus_; and the mountain black snake, _Coluber Alleghaniensis_.
Probably all the _Crotalidæ_ might be included. It remains to be shown
whether the habit extends to the egg-laying snakes, but as yet no
proof had occurred. The Professors then present invited still further
observations and reports, affirming that the breeding habits of more
than twenty-five of the North American genera were entirely unknown.’
The following are a few of the cases recorded.
A ‘water moccasin’ (probably _Ancistrodon piscivorus_) had been seen
for several days unwelcomely close to a southern residence. A gentleman
wishing to entice her away from the water so as the better to kill her,
had a rabbit placed near, which by and by she seized and had nearly
swallowed, when those on the watch made a noise to alarm her. She
quickly disgorged it, gave a shrill whistling noise, and five young
snakes ran from under a log down her throat. The men cut off her head
and found the five young which tried to get away.
‘A farmer who was mowing saw a number of little snakes and a large
one. He went a short distance to fetch a fork to kill them, and on his
return found only the large one left. He struck it on the back, and
seven ran out of her mouth.’
‘Another farmer saw a “striped snake,” and noticed a number of young
ones near to her head. He alarmed them, and the young ones rushed in
at her open mouth. He stepped back and watched to see what next would
happen, when presently some of them came out. He killed the mother, and
all the rest ran out.’
A gentleman in Ohio saw a water snake on a bank. He got a pole, and
with one stroke of it wounded her, but not so much as to disable her.
She instantly made for the water, swam about her own length, when
she ‘wheeled round’ with difficulty, and placing her under jaw just
above the level of the water, opened her mouth wide, when some ten
or twelve young snakes ran or swam down her throat; after which she
went in search of a hiding-place. She was, however, killed and opened,
and ‘about twenty’ living young snakes were found within her, ‘two or
three of which were seven or eight inches long.’ Out of the 120 cases
recorded, sixty-seven of the witnesses saw and described the actions
so distinctly as to leave no doubt in the minds of their hearers; and
of these, twenty-two heard the parents’ signal ‘whistle,’ or hiss, or
click, or rattles, according to the species observed.
A man Charles Smith was ploughing near Chicago, when his plough caught
and turned over a large flat stone (‘rock,’ as they call it there),
exposing a very large rattlesnake and her young ones. The mother
rattled the alarm, and all the young ones ran down her throat. Smith
killed the old one, and immediately the young ones began to crawl back
from her mouth and were killed by him. Thirteen of them were five or
six inches long.
Some of the witnesses, after killing the snake into which they had seen
the young ones retire, saw them shaken out again by dogs which had
seized the mother. A few of the observers went on several successive
days to watch a certain snake that was known to have a nest close by;
and on each occasion when alarmed, the young ran into the parent’s
mouth.
Mr. Putnam also mentioned a ‘striped snake’ (which he had considered
ovoviviparous) bringing forth live young ones at the end of August; she
‘having been a long while in confinement.’ (This was no doubt a case of
retarded functions.)
In vol. iii. of the _American Naturalist_, 1870, an interesting record
of the ‘blowing snake’ (_Heterodon platyrhinos_) appears. One of
these snakes had been wounded in her side, and over one hundred young
ones from 6 to 8 inches long came forth from the wound. They were
all active, all blowing and flattening their bodies like thoroughly
wide-awake _Heterodons_. Sixty-three of them being uninjured died in
alcohol, thirteen were much lacerated, as was the mother, and the rest
escaped. Says the narrator, ‘We _know_ that this snake is oviparous.
Had she swallowed them, or can she be also ovoviviparous?’ (Well, she
might be either or both as occasion demanded!) This is one of those
examples which might have given rise to the supposition handed down by
Aristotle, and explained p. 431.
One hundred snakelings from 6 to 8 inches long seems almost incredible
from the space they would occupy. Yet in bulk they would not be more
than one large snake which the mother could easily swallow. The
accommodating ribs render such habits more feasible than at first sight
would appear. _Heterodon platyrhinos_ is a wonderfully prolific snake.
In the _Zoological Society Proceedings_, vol. vi. 1869, S. S. Ruthven
states that he has observed it to bring forth over one hundred _live_
young at a time.
One more example shall be added, of what Professor Goode considered a
remarkable instance of hereditary instinct. In a hay-field was found
a nest of eggs, one of which was cut open, when a small but perfectly
formed ‘milk adder’ within immediately assumed a menacing attitude
and ‘brandished’ its tongue. Some of the other eggs were then torn
open, the young in which acted in a similar manner. Then the old snake
appeared, and after endeavours to encourage this unexpected family,
put her head on a level with the ground and opened her mouth, when the
young ones vanished down her throat.
It is worthy of notice that in many of the above cases the mother
snake made a signal noise, that the young ones understood this
signal, and that she opened her mouth in a manner which they readily
comprehended. ‘This concurrence of testimony is not to be disregarded,’
says Professor Goode. And the reader will admit the force of these
evidences. Those witnesses, dispersed over thousands of square miles,
had entered into no compact to make their accounts agree; nor did one
spectator in Kansas know what another in New Jersey was looking at or
writing about.
After such a weight of evidence, and in face of the decision arrived
at by the American Convention, it is greatly to be lamented that
the _Field_, so far from advancing like our American friends, now
retrogrades on this question. So lately as October 1881, when another
case was cited of the maternal refuge, the Editor closes his columns
against investigation; and refuses to be convinced unless he were to
see ‘the young vipers at the Zoological Gardens obligingly run in
and out of their mothers’ mouths,’ which is a performance we are
never likely to witness. For, in the first place, the young are often
produced in mid-day, in the presence of the crowd of visitors. Thus,
from their birth accustomed to publicity, they have not the motive as
when in their native haunts they are suddenly alarmed at the first
sight of an apparition in human form. And in the second place, the
young are generally removed at once into a separate cage, and they lose
all knowledge of their mother. Both mother and progeny are familiar
with humanity; and the former is much more likely at the sight of the
keeper to open her mouth for a mouse than to invite her children to
enter therein.
In the foregoing portions of this volume I have been able frequently
to bring personal observations to verify what books have taught me.
With the present subject this cannot be the case. I have neither seen a
viper in the act of giving refuge to her young ones by receiving them
into her mouth, nor have I ever had the circumstance described to me
by any one who has witnessed the proceeding. This is not surprising,
seeing that my studies have been prosecuted almost entirely in London.
For any information obtained at the Gardens I am indebted solely to the
keepers, whose opportunities of observation when aided by intelligence
and experience merit the confidence of the inquirer.
So astonishing a phase of ophidian habits—let us say only _reputed
habits_—was, however, to me one to excite very special interest, as
well as to induce inquiry and a possible solution of the mystery; and
towards this solution the facts related in chap. xxiv. and xxv. appear
to me to come foremost in our aid. All snakes that are ovoviviparous,
was the decision arrived at by the American ophiologists; or
_viviparous_, for we have seen that the two words have but little value
as a distinction. I would venture so far as to render it thus:—
_In snakes which are either viviparous, or in which from some cause or
other extrusion has been so postponed that the young are conscious of
existence before birth._ Conscious also when born that they had been
safer in that pre-natal condition than now when assailed on all sides
by dangers hitherto unknown. This idea—and probably an untenable,
unphysiological, and foolish idea, which science might laugh to scorn
in an instant—still the idea did flash into my mind one day in the
summer of 1873, when Holland, announcing a brood of young ring snakes
which had just been hatched at the Gardens, and describing their baby
terrors, said, ‘It is funny to see how they all try to wriggle back
into their shells again.’
‘Then those little Colubers had been conscious of security before they
were hatched,’ I reflected, ‘and conscious when they did emerge into
activity that the shell had been a safe refuge to them.’ (This was
prior to the American Convention, of which I knew nothing until long
afterwards.)
Consciousness of locality must, I think, have a good deal to do with
the maternal refuge; and that snakes possess this consciousness in a
strong degree has been already shown in their habit of returning to
the same spot to hibernate year after year: and not only for winter
quarters; but a strong love of locality and a memory of home are
observed wherever snakes abound. ‘They remain in a hole or a crevice
of the wall for years,’ Fayrer affirms. In his _Prairie Folk_,
Parker Gilmore tells of a family of ‘Puff adders’ (by which probably
_Heterodon platyrhinos_ is meant) that had taken up their abode under
the boards of a porch for several years and could not be routed out.
Nicholson, also, in his _Indian Snakes_, informs us that when he was
stationed at Kamptee in 1868, a cobra and a pair of _Bungarus acutus_
lived in his bungalow for a long while. He could not find where
the cobra lived, but the Bungari made themselves at home in a hole
of the wall under his dressing-table. He never saw either of these
interlopers, but identified them by the skins which they ‘periodically
cast;’ taking advantage of his absence, no doubt, or of his nocturnal
somnolence, to perform their toilet under his looking-glass!
The often recounted tale of an Indian who had a tame rattlesnake
that went away every spring, and returned regularly each autumn to
a certain tub which it had appropriated for its home, is only an
example of affection for locality; but by those who were not cognisant
of this habit, the story has been produced with a strong flavour
of the marvellous, and the Indian who knew by the season when to
expect his creeping friend, was not slow to attribute the regular
return to especial regard for his own person. That _crotalus_ coming
alone so regularly, was probably a lone widow or widower; because
we also know that the _pair_ of snakes are usually seen together,
and that they follow each other with strong conjugal affection. This
is not irrelevant to the present subject; because the _affection_
of ophidians, whether conjugal or maternal, is what we are now
considering. The quality was well known in classic ages, though it
has been denied them in modern times. Many writers on snakes, while
affirming that they ‘exhibit no phase of affection,’ describe their
constantly going in pairs; or the fact that they become ‘vicious if
their retreat is cut off.’ ‘In their peregrinations male and female
are always in company,’ says Catlin; ‘and when only one is seen, the
other is sure to be within hearing.’ When a female has been killed and
left on the spot, the male always comes. The Indians profit by this
knowledge of conjugal devotion to lie in wait and kill the mate. They
place the dead one near the hole of their retreat, and watch the egress
of the survivor, which is sure to come and inspect its dead companion.
Sir Emerson Tennant observed a decided affection between the sexes of
the cobra. In his _History of Ceylon_ he gives several proofs, as for
instance a cobra being killed in a bath, and the next day the mate
being found there. In Baird’s Report of one of the Pacific exploring
expeditions, a good deal is said about the Bull snake (_Pituophis_),
which follows its mate by the scent. Once a fine individual having been
captured and placed in a barrel near the tent, a large one of the same
species was shortly afterwards found close by, and in a direct line
from where its mate was caught.
So much for conjugal affection. As regards maternal devotion, we
certainly had a proof in the pythons remaining week after week on
their eggs. True, they took no notice of the little ones when hatched,
because they were well able to take care of themselves. The mothers
had fulfilled their duties beforehand. Snakes which are vicious at no
other time, menace those who approach their nests or cut off their
retreat. This is a fact universally recognised, alike in Africa, India,
Australia, and America: wherever a traveller, a hunter, or a resident
incidentally mentions snake habits, he confirms this home affection.
‘Snakes, if aggressive at no other time, are always spiteful when they
have young,’ says Fayrer. And an anecdote is related of a man who
stumbled on a nest of young Hamadryads, and was pursued a long distance
by the angry mother. Terror added wings to his flight, as she came
fast upon him. In despair he plunged into a river and swam across,
but on reaching the opposite bank, up reared the furious Hamadryad,
its dilated eyes glistening with rage, ready to bury its fangs in his
trembling body. Escape now seemed hopeless, and as a last resource he
tore off his turban and threw that at the enemy. With characteristic
stupidity the snake plunged its fangs into this, biting it furiously.
After wreaking its vengeance upon the turban, it glided back to its
nest and its young ones and so the man escaped.
_Apropos_ of Indian snakes, Nicholson, though a practical ophiologist,
never heard of snakes swallowing their young in India. This may be
because so large a proportion of them are egg-laying, and because the
only two vipers, _Daboia_ and _Echis_, are nocturnal, very shy, and
not so frequent. Most of the other members of the Indian _viperine_
snakes, the _Crotalidæ_, are tree snakes, which, like the sea snakes,
are more likely to be dispersed and separated from their progeny,
and to take refuge in flight. They are, besides, less frequent, shy,
nocturnal, or crepuscular; and belong more to Malay and Hindoo China,
than to the localities in which observations are more feasible. Fayrer
does not even state positively that they are viviparous. At the same
time Nicholson will ‘say nothing certain about the young going down
the throat, but sees no reason why not.’ ‘They can do without air for
half an hour or so, and a snake’s throat is sufficiently capacious to
allow a frog to croak _de profundis clamavi_ when he is two feet from
daylight.’
Among unprejudiced observers there are still some who are inclined
to attribute to optical delusion the sudden disappearance of young
snakes; arguing from their astonishing rapidity of motion, and the
almost inappreciable space into which they can creep and hide in their
mother’s coils. Mr. Arthur Nicols, in his interesting papers on Snakes,
published in _The Country_ newspaper, in 1878-79, describes a case of
this kind from personal observation when in Australia. He disturbed a
snake with a number of young around her, the latter quickly vanishing.
He discharged his gun, and the old snake was almost cut to pieces with
shot. Approaching, he found all the young ones hidden beneath and about
her, and when he stirred them up they persisted in hiding among the
shattered coils, returning thither to the last.
Mr. Nicols states only that it was a poisonous snake, not giving the
specific name. She had probably incubated her eggs, and the young had
remembered the shelter of their mother’s coils. That it was a display
of filial refuge is, however, undeniable.
A similar occurrence is related in the _Field_ of November 10th, 1866,
by a Mr. Brittain, as an argument against the swallowing process.
He had seen young vipers run to their mother for protection, and so
completely out of sight that only on disturbing them they were found to
have secreted themselves in her coils. These may have been at a more
advanced age, and had ceased to enter the mouth.
It is remarkable that hitherto, excepting in _Pelias berus_, we hear
of this maternal display as peculiar to America only. Whether a more
intimate acquaintance with the snakes of other countries will reveal
new instances in the course of time, we cannot conjecture. It is
to be wished that observations on this head may be published, and
investigations encouraged; or in the minds of the million, the maternal
œsophagal refuge will still be classed among the fables.
Taking it for granted, then, in deference to the American ‘Convention,’
that snakes do offer refuge to their young, it is curious to speculate
as to how the habit originated and became a confirmed one. Maternal
instincts have, without doubt, been strong from the first; and we must
suppose that similar dangers to those which induce a snake now to
summon her young ones had also been the cause of postponed functions in
the mother, and that hers were precocious little reptiles before they
ever saw light.
Because we cannot assume that in a state of _security_ an oviparous
snake would ‘retard its laying’ and become ovoviviparous or viviparous;
nor that a viper would intentionally retain her young until their fangs
were developed (see p. 360), so that they should be able to take care
of themselves; or a rattlesnake till its young had rattles as well as
fangs (see p. 299), these being the principal species which do shelter
their young. And the habit must have had a beginning; there must have
been some training, some development of instinct, to lead up to what we
now see, viz. a snake deliberately giving a signal, lowering her head
to the level of the ground or water, opening wide her mouth to receive
her young, and giving them a second sign when they might safely venture
forth again.
This is the state of things supposed to exist at the present time;
and it would seem to be an organized habit, perfected in process of
ages, and one in which the mother’s instinct, and a _consciousness of
harbouring active young ones before introducing them to surrounding
dangers_, must have had a considerable share.
In concluding this speculative chapter, I can only humbly beg to
‘second the motion’ put to the learned assembly at Portland, Maine,
in 1873, to the effect that the subject will receive the attention of
ophiologists in all the snake countries of the world.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]