The Penn's Grove record., 1889-11-09
THE A
Old Zachary Archer Of the Storm
King Mountain.

Old Zachary Archer Of the Storm
King Mountain.
In alittle hut on the side OF the great
Storm king Mountain. in the Hudson
Highlands, far above the river and all
most an equal distance below the loft
lest pinnacle of tre towering hill, lives
Old Zachary Archer, who supports his
wife and himself, the only inhabitants
OF the cabin, by catching snakes. The
cottage is not visible from above or be-
low in ummer time.
The thick foliage of the trees, and
b underground which rises almost to
the level of its low roof, effectually con-
ceal 1t; and as the old man has an In.
surmo liable objection to q fire in the
Kitchen in the warm weather, and
makes his wife walk two miles every
day 10 q small cav to cook their food,
which is always eaten cold, no floating
smoke betrays the presence of their
dwelling. But al this season, when
the mountain trees have partly with
drawn the curtains that covered 1t,
while the gorse and brushwood are
covering close to the ground as il for
warmth, the deso.ate little building is
very conspicuous. No other house Is
near 1t, and it is a picture OF loSeli-
ness.
TRICKS OF THE TRADE.
The venerable snake catcher does not
like it In the winter months, and passes
as much time as he can away from IT.,
loo VIM hfo rr-ifa onI 2ba ern1rna -. l,nnn
each others company. They hibernate
together, the serpents sleeping in the
cold back room and the old woTan
doing before the wood fire, which
burns night and day when the snow is
on the ground. Old lack, as he is
usually called, is generally pursuing
his slippery trade or doing his share OF
slumbering before a barroom stove in
n Of the numerous small villages OF
settlements at the foot of the mountain.
He was engaged in the latter avocation
a few days ago. when the reporter
aroused him and asked him how lie
felt. He said he was well, but rheuma-
tic, and added that the reptile business
was brisk.
"It's always a sight safer in winter
than in summer" he said, when lie had
taken something to wash down his
sleepiness, land though l don't get us
many snakes l like 1t better. In summer
the rattlers and the copperheads stand
a chance Of catchin' you instead OF
your trappin' them. You 0 e, thes'Ie
always wide awake and keepln' their
eyes peeled for danger. 1 can find
them ready enough, but to get them in
to the leather bag 1 carry, is a horse Of
another color. Sometimes l set traps for
them, and that's a heap the safest way.
The trap is only an open basket with a
lot of red flannel inside. Snakes, unless
they're disturbed, will always go back
to their old sleein' ground when the sun
is high. When 1 find a snake track l
follow it until l come either to the SER
pent or his bed. If it's the serpent, |
try to pin his neck to the ground with
a forked stick that l carry. That's
mighty dangerous work it he's a RATHER
for / must 60 very close to him, and, II
I miss him at the first lab I'll be apt 10
be closer In a second. However, I
never missed yet, and l don't suppose
l ever will now, Pm that experienced.
When 1 have him down l take him
with my hand, close behind the fork, SO
that he can't turn his head to bite me,
and drop him into the bag. But IL the
snake hasn't zone to bed, and l don't
find him. 60 back about fifty yards along
the track, and lay my basket down
with the lid open. Then l hunt more
serpents. When 1 come to the basket
again, in two hours or so, l creep up
from behind and slam the cover shut.
The snake is generally inside, mixed
up with the flannel. He's found the
place too comfortable to get out Of 1t In
a hurry. The serpent may be the wis.,
est beast of the field, but he's a lnx"rl.
Gus cuss, and he don't value h life
nowhere as compared with his COM
fort.
when ] find a hole with snake
marks about its mouth l just hang .
running moose Of catgut over it, and
fasten the single end to a stick like
fishing rod. Then l put a lump of soft
bread soaked In milk before the hole,
and, goin' back. l hold the rod in my
hand. Nearly all snakes are dead set
On milk. and the smell of the bait Is
pretty sure to draw the II I'm after
out of the hole. He must pass his head
through the loop 10 reach the bread.
and when he does that l jerk the rod,
tighten the moose, and l have him. It's
just like fishln'.
"Then there's my dog Viper. He
catches a lot of snakes and aides me to
catch more. In the summer when he
sees a snake, he'll walk around him un-
til he makes him dizzy trying to keep
his ugly eyes pointed at the danger.
At last he'll either drop his head or
make a turn the other way to take the
kinks out of his boly. Then Viper IL
him as quick as a wink. He grabs
him by the back of the neck out OF reach
of his fangs. and bring him 10 me with
out hurting him. In the winter he
can't catch the snakes himself, but he
leads me to holes in trees and other
places where they lie. Just to be
on the safe side, l push a stick Into
their bedrooms first, but they're always
as good as dead, they're so sound asleep
and I ian pull them u with my hand,
covered with a thick cloth glove. l
have to use a good deal of either to
stupefy my snakes when PIN movin'
them from the box or bag to an
other.
"Who buys my ~serpents? Well, IW
tell you. Circuses and small mus ums,
as well as old fossils of naturalis 8, who
are always wantin' curIosities, and
when / catch a snake with two heads,
or two tails, which do about three
times a year, l get a good price-oiten
as much as $100-for him. The
common reptiles are worth only q few
dollars each. Hello, here's a Viper.
Where have you been. sirs There's no
snakes down here, you know.
An i'll looking dog, with only one
eye, trotted up to the stove and lay
down before his master. His worth
a serpent chaser may have been
above estimate, but his market value
was clearly below par.-New York
Sun.