# The red book of animal stories/The Great Father, and Snakes' Ways

THE GREAT FATHER AND SNAKES’ WAYS
Probably no wild beast that ever lived has caused such deadly terror to so many people as that inspired by snakes of all kinds. With a lion or a tiger a man feels that he knows pretty well what the creature will do, and how he must defend himself. The animal springs, and bounds, and bites, and men can spring, and bound, and bite, too, if they want to, though not so far, or so well. As regards a snake it is quite different. His ways are not our ways; his method of getting along is totally unlike ours; he does not display a great row of gleaming teeth to frighten you and tear your flesh; his head darts at you like lightning, and is as quickly withdrawn; but in that instant, unless strong remedies are at hand, your death-blow has been struck.
It is this sense of mystery and strangeness that hangs round serpents which makes them the object of such dread, though of course there are many kinds which are perfectly harmless. Dark tales, too, are told of their strength and power of fascination, by which their victims are not only prevented from making their escape, but even forced to advance towards their fate. As a rule, however, snakes, unless they are very hungry, only attack in self-defence, and act on the principle that ‘if you do not hurt me, I will not hurt you.’ Still, without meaning to hurt them, they sometimes look so like a dead branch that they get trodden upon; then woe be to the creature who has roused them from sleep!
​Snakes are usually largest and most dangerous in hot countries, and Dr. Livingstone tells of one in South Africa that is over eight feet long, and has an immense amount of poison in its fangs at once. He has seen it attacked by a herd of dogs, and all four of them stung to death. Of course the poison gets weaker the oftener it is used, and while the first dog dies at once, and the second in five minutes, the one who has received it last may linger for some hours. He mentions a snake that he saw killed, which contained in itself such vast supplies of poisonous fluid that, even after its head was cut off, the fangs continued to drop it for many hours. This particular snake has, according to the natives, a horrid trick of spitting its poison straight into the eyes, with the result of blinding its victim; but we are not told whether it can cause death without a distinct bite.
In cold countries snakes generally seek out a warm place when the air begins to grow chilly, and stay there till the summer comes back. Long ago, a strange thing occurred in the house of an English gentleman living in the country, with a servant who had been with him from a boy. Now this servant, says the chronicler, ‘grew very lame and feeble in his legs, and thinking he could never be warm in his bed, did multiply his clothes, and covered himself more and more, but all in vain, till at length he was not able to go about, neither could any skill of physician find out the cause.
‘It happened on a day as his master leaned at his parlour window, he saw a great snake slide along the house side, and to creep into the chamber of this lame man, then lying in his bed (as I remember) for he lay in a low chamber, directly against the parlour window aforesaid. The gentleman, desirous to see the issue, and what the snake would do in the chamber, followed, and looked into the chamber by the window; where he espyed the snake to slide up into the bed-straw, by some way open in the bottom of the bed, which was of old boards. ​Straightway his heart rising thereat, he called two or three of his servants, and told them what he had seen, bidding them go and take then rapiers, and kill the said snake. The serving men came first and removed the lame man (as I remember) and then the one of them turned up the bed, and the other two the straw, their master standing without at the hole, whereinto the said snake had entered into the chamber. The bed was no sooner turned up, and the rapier thrust into the straw, but there issued forth five or six great snakes that were lodged within. Then the serving men, bestirring themselves, soon despatched them, and cast them out of doors dead. Afterward the lame man’s legs recovered, and became as strong as ever they were; whereby did evidently appear the coldness of these snakes or serpents which coming close to his legs every night, did so benumb them as he could not go.’
It is often supposed that snakes are unable to make any sound but the terrible hiss they utter when they are angry; but there is one African kind that imitates the cry of a kid so exactly that it is impossible to tell one from the other, and many is the animal which, thinking to find a goat, has fallen into the trap set for it by the serpent!
Another species, that has a sort of voice in its tail, (as well as one in its throat), is the rattle-snake. The famous ‘rattle’ that it sets up whenever it sees an enemy approaching comes from the shaking together of a loose, horny, jointed substance at the end of its tail, and when a man or animal hears this he knows what awaits him, and can get out of the way if he chooses. If he does not choose, but prefers to attack the rattle-snake, which twists itself straight up in a wreath of many coils, its eyes gleaming from the centre, he runs the risk of a speedy and painful death. The teeth that the snake uses as his weapon of defence are two very small and sharp ones in his upper jaw, which have each a little bag at its root, containing the poisonous, greenish fluid. This fluid spreads ​itself through the blood with wonderful quickness, and a chill instantly strikes the whole body. Then the spot
THE SNAKES FOUND IN THE LAME MAN’S BED
where the poison entered begins to swell and get discoloured, and soon the whole frame shows the same signs. The poison takes effect most quickly in hot weather, or if ​the wound is just above the heel; but, strange to say, it never affects the wild hog, who can even eat rattle-snakes without suffering.
Luckily, certain remedies are known to the Indians for the bite of one of the deadliest of all serpents, the rattle-snake, and the surest of these is a small kind of plantain which, when rubbed on the wound and swallowed, gradually destroys the poison in the blood. Now-a-days, too, people are given strong doses of whisky or ammonia, which act in the same way, and they are kept walking up and down for many hours. If they are once allowed to fall asleep they never wake again. Still, whatever remedy may be used, when the time of year comes round in which the man was bitten, he will, we are told, feel some return of the symptoms to the end of his life.
A traveller in North America, in the middle of the last century, says that in the neighbourhood of the Fox Kiver he found an immense number of rattle-snakes hiding in the grass which covered a sort of swamp. One of these snakes had been captured by an Indian, who managed to tame it, and carried it about with him everywhere in a box, calling it his ‘Great Father.’ The man and the snake had wandered about together for many summers, when they were met by a French trader, who found the Indian making ready to start for his winter hunting-grounds. He and the Indian soon became friends, and one day the Frenchman was much surprised to see the Redskin put the box containing his Great Father on the ground, and, pushing back the lid, tell the snake, as he did so, that he was to meet him at that very place the following May. The Frenchman laughed when he heard the Indian’s words, and said that as this was only October he hardly thought it likely that the Great Father would remember so long. However, the Indian was so certain of the snake’s affection that he offered to pay the Frenchman two gallons of rum should the Great Father not turn up at the time appointed.
​When May came round, the French trader set out for the place, and found the Indian there before him, the box in his hand. He laid it on the ground, and called to the Great Father, but the Great Father never came. After waiting some time, he acknowledged that he had lost his bet; but he still felt so certain of the snake’s return that he offered to pay, not two gallons, but four, if the Great Father did not appear within two days. The Frenchman agreed to this, and the second morning saw both men on the spot.
Some hours passed, and the Frenchman was already counting on the gallons of rum, when, about one o’clock, a motion was seen in the grass, and the Great Father glided rapidly towards them. He made straight for his box, as a man would make for his house, and without waiting to be told, he curled himself up snugly inside, and the door was shut on him.