Although the finest mulberry-trees are said to be found along the Mississippi and the lower Ohio Rivers, I have seen large, thrifty trees in Connecticut and on Long Island. They grow from Massachusetts to Florida and west to Nebraska. Birds are very fond of the mulberry. The first rose-breasted grosbeaks I ever saw were in a great mulberry-tree on a farm in the northern part of Connecticut. The berry is shaped much like a blackberry; it is juicy and sweet, but lacks flavor. It grows on a short stem and is about an inch in length. In July when the berry ripens it is a dark purple.
There is a decided variety in the shape of the leaves on one tree; some have seven lobes, some none at all. The edges of most are scalloped, though I have seen leaves with smooth edges.
The white mulberry is seldom found growing wild. The fruit is like the red mulberry but perfectly white.
The fruit of the sweet viburnum, nanny-berry or sheepberry, is said to be edible. It grows on a small tree, of the honeysuckle family, in the woods and by the streams from Canada to Georgia and west as far as Missouri. The tree has a rusty, scaly bark and broad, oval leaves, pointed at the tip and finely toothed. The flower clusters are large and, though white, they appear yellowish from the many yellow anthers at the centre. When entirely ripe the fruit is a dark blue or black and is covered with a bloom; before ripening it is crimson. The berry grows in clusters on slender red stems. It is elongated and rather large. At its summit is the calyx and stigma. The seed inside the berry is a stone which is flattened, blunt-pointed, and grooved. The fruit ripens in September and October.
The thorns, large-fruited and scarlet, are edible. As a child I knew the fruit as haws and was very fond of it. The large-fruited thorn is a low tree with branches spreading out horizontally. You will often find it in thickets. The bark is rough and the thorns on the branches are long, sharp, and of a light-brown color. In flavor the fruit is sweet and apple-like; the flesh is dry and mealy; it grows on hairy stems and the seeds are hard, rounded, and grooved. The summit is tipped with the calyx and it ripens in September. The leaves are thick, narrowed at the base, and rounded at the ends, with veins underneath that are prominent and often hairy.
The fruit of the black haw, or stag-bush, is not edible until after frost has touched it. It is oval, dark blue with bloom, and about half an inch long. It grows in stiff clusters on short, branching stems. The shrub, which is sometimes a small tree, is bushy and crooked, with stout and spreading branches. It is found from Connecticut to Georgia and as far west as the Indian Territory. It grows among the underbrush in forests. The bark is scaly and of a reddish-brown color, the leaves are dark green and smooth on the upper side, paler and sometimes covered with matted hair on the under side, where the veins show prominently; they are two or three inches long and generally oval in shape with no teeth. The flowers are cream-white and grow in flat-topped clusters.
There is a wild plum that is found in our New England States and in Canada known as the Canada plum. The plant grows along fences, in thickets, and by the side of streams. The plum is from one inch to one and a half inches long and is red or orange in color. It has a tough skin and a flat stone. The flavor is considered pleasant but the fruit is generally used for preserving. The leaves have long, sharp points at the ends and are rather heart-shaped at the base. The flowers, white in bud, change to pink when opened. They grow in thin clusters.
Usually on sandy and stony beaches, though at times farther inland, you may find the beach plum. It is a low shrub and grows in clumps. The fruit is apt to be abundant and is sweet when quite ripe. This plum, also, is used for preserving. The color of the fruit is from red to red-purple, it has a bloom over it and grows on a slender stem. The thin stone is rounded on one edge, sharp on the other, and generally has pointed ends. The fruit ripens in August and September. The leaf is oval, has a sharp-pointed tip, is rounded at the base, and has fine, forward-pointed teeth. There are many white flowers which grow in clusters along the branches.
The wild red cherry is sour but edible; it is best used as preserves. The tree is usually small yet sometimes reaches the height of thirty feet. It is oftenest found in the woods of the north, but also grows among the mountains as far south as Tennessee. The bark is a reddish-brown and has rusty dots over it. The leaves are oblong, pointed at the tips and rather blunt at the base. They are bright green and glossy. The white flower is much like the cultivated cherry blossom but smaller; it grows in clusters. The cherries are light red and about the size of a pea.
Growing in the sand along our eastern coast as far south as New Jersey and sometimes on the shores of the Great Lakes, the sand-cherry is found. It is a low, trailing bush, but in some cases sends up erect branches as high as four feet. The fruit is dark red—black when quite ripe—and about half an inch long. It grows in small clusters or solitary, and is said to be sweet and edible. The leaves, dark green on the upper side, are lighter underneath; they are rather narrow, broadest toward the end and tapering at the base. The edge is toothed almost to the base. The flowers are white and thinly clustered.
In the Southern, Western, and Middle States, some say as far north as New York, grows the persimmon. Deliciously sweet and spicy when frost has ripened it, very astringent until ripe. It is plentiful in Kentucky and one of my earliest memories is of going to market with my mother in the fall to buy persimmons. There I learned to avoid the fair, perfect fruit, though to all appearances it was quite ripe, and to choose that which looked bruised and broken.
The persimmon is about the size of a plum, but is flattened at the poles. It grows close to the branch and its calyx is large. The color is yellow generally flushed with red. Some writers describe it as juicy, but I would not call it that; the flesh is more like custard or soft jelly.
The tree usually varies in height from thirty to fifty feet, but in some places is said to reach one hundred or more feet. The trunk is short and the branches spreading. In the south it often forms a thicket in uncultivated fields and along roadsides. The bark is dark brown or dark gray, the surface is scaly and divided into plates. The leaves are usually a narrow oval with smooth edges; when matured they are dark green and glossy on the upper side, underneath pale and often downy. The flower is a creamy-white or greenish-yellow.
The papaw is another fruit I knew well as a child. It is sometimes called custard-apple because the flesh resembles soft custard. As I write I can almost taste the, to me, sickish sweetness of the fruit and feel the large, smooth, flat seeds in my mouth. In shape the papaw somewhat resembles the banana, the texture of the skin is the same, but the surface of the papaw is smoothly rounded and it is shorter and thicker than the banana, being usually from three to five inches long. It ripens in September and October. The tree is small, often a shrub, and it grows wild no farther north than western New York.
There are some cultivated papaw-trees on Long Island, but I do not think they bear fruit. Certainly none that I have seen have ever fruited. You will find the tree as far south as Florida and Texas, through the Middle States and west to Michigan and Kansas. It flourishes in the bottom lands of the Mississippi Valley and seeks the shade of the forests. The bark is dark brown with gray blotches; the leaves are large, being from two to twelve inches long and four inches wide. They are oval, pointed at the tip and narrowed at the base. When matured they are smooth, dark green on the upper side and paler beneath. At first the flower is as green as the leaves, but finally turns a deep red-purple. It grows close to the branch and is solitary.
One of the most delicious wild fruits we have is the May-apple or mandrake. It is finely flavored, sweet and juicy, but being a laxative one must eat of it sparingly. It is most common in the Middle States and reaches perfection in Ohio.
The plant is from twelve to eighteen inches high, and the large umbrella-like leaves are lifted on smooth, straight stems. The fruit usually grows from the fork of two leaves. It is yellow, lemon-shaped, and about the size of a plum. The flesh is like that of the plum and there are numerous seeds in fleshy seed coverings. It ripens in July and is quite soft when fully ripe. I have sometimes gathered the firm, yellow May-apples, put them away in a cool, dark, dry place to ripen, and in taking them out have found them in prime condition. They will ripen in this way without spoiling if not allowed to touch one another.
The leaves frequently measure a foot in diameter; they have from five to nine lobes, which are notched and pointed at the tips; the upper side is darker than the lower. While the fruit of the May-apple is edible, the leaves and root are poisonous, not to the touch but to the taste. The flower is a clear white with from eight to twelve rounding petals and it generally measures about one and a half inches across. The petals expand in the morning, become erect in the afternoon, and close at night. We are told that the May-apple is a roadside plant, but I have found it only in the woods.
There are several varieties of wild grapes, all, I think, edible but not all pleasant to the taste. The fox-grape is sweet, but has a musky flavor and odor, a thick skin, and a tough pulp. The fruit ripens in September but few care to eat it. The vine grows luxuriantly and is very common. The summer grape is another tough-skinned grape. It is not musky but is generally astringent. The vine resembles the fox-grape in growth, being strong and vigorous. The fruit of the blue grape is sour and hangs in long, heavy clusters. It is usually found along water-ways.
If you try to eat the frost-grapes before frost you will find them decidedly sour, but after a good frost they are really fine. They have a snappy, spicy flavor all their own, and one eats them, like currants, skin and all. They are small, round, and black with a slight bloom. The clusters are well-filled and hang loosely. The vine grows luxuriantly, branching from a large trunk, and is found in wet places and on the banks of streams, though it does well in the open and in drier soil. It flourishes in New England and down to Illinois and westward to Nebraska. The leaves usually suggest three lobes but are mostly undivided. They are coarsely toothed and the under side bears occasional hairs along the veins.
Of all the wild-growing foods, nuts are, perhaps, the most nutritious. The black walnut, not plentiful in the Atlantic States but abundant in the Middle States and in the Mississippi Valley, has a rich, wild flavor, and a deep-brown stain for the hands that tear it from its ball-like covering of tough, pimply green which forms the outer husk. The nut is sometimes oblong, sometimes almost round, with a deeply grooved, hard, brown shell. It grows in pairs or solitary. The tree is large, often reaching the height of one hundred feet, and its trunk is from four to six feet in diameter. The bark is dark brown with deep vertical grooves and its surface is broken with thick scales. The leaves are compound, growing on a middle stem which is sometimes two feet long. Each leaflet is a narrow oval, sharply pointed at the end, and usually about three inches long. The nuts require frost to ripen them.
While the butternut-tree is much like the walnut in general appearance, it does not grow as large. The nuts are different in shape and in flavor, and the leaflets are hairy instead of smooth. The butternut does not grow as far north as the walnut, but is often found side by side with the walnut in the Middle States. The green outer covering of the nut is oblong and sticky on the surface, and, like the walnut, will stain the hands. The shell is hard, brown, oblong, and pointed at one end. It is deeply grooved. The flavor is rich but the nut being oily soon becomes rancid.
In gathering hickory-nuts you must be able to distinguish between the edible variety and others that are fair on the outside but bitter within. There are nine varieties of hickory-nut trees, and in general appearance they are alike. All have compound leaves and the leaflets are larger and fewer to the stem than the walnut, usually numbering from five to eleven. The nuts grow in small clusters as a rule, often in pairs, and the outer husk separates when ripe into four pieces, allowing the nut to drop out clean and dry. The full-grown tree is of good size and is found almost everywhere in the United States.
The shellbark or shagbark hickory-nut is one of the best. The flavor, as every one knows, is sweet and pleasant. It is the bark of the tree that gives it the name of shagbark, for it separates into long, ragged strips several inches wide which generally hold to the trunk at the middle and give it an unkempt, shaggy appearance.
The mockernut is the hickory-nut with a dark, brownish-colored shell, hard and thick and not easily cracked. It is called the mockernut because while the nut is large, usually larger than the shellbark, the kernel is very small and difficult to take out of the thick shell.
I will italicize the pignut because, though I have never eaten it, I once tried to, and the first taste was all-sufficient. Some writers tell us that the flavor is sweet or slightly bitter. It was the decidedly bitter kind that I found lying temptingly clean and white under the tree. The thin outer husk of the pignut is not much larger than the nut. It is broader at the top than at the stem, where it narrows almost to a point. The husk does not open as freely as that of the other hickory-nuts. It is inclined to cling to the nut; in some cases it only partially opens and drops with the nut.
One of the sweetest and most delicately flavored of our native nuts is the little, triangular beechnut. The tree is common and widely distributed, but few people know anything about the nut. In Kentucky the nuts used to be plentiful, but I have seen none in New York. It is said that a beech-tree must be fully forty years old before it will bear fruit, and that may be the reason the nuts are not oftener found.
The soft-shelled nut is very small, no larger than the tip of your little finger. The color is pale brown, and it is three-sided with sharp angles. It is contained in a small, prickly husk and grows both solitary or in clusters of two or three. When touched by frost the burr opens and allows the nut to fall out while the burr remains on the tree.
The bark of the beech-tree is ashy gray, and the leaf is oblong, pointed at the tip, toothed on the edge, and strongly veined.
I find that the chestnut-tree is not as well known as its fruit, which is sold from stands on the street corners of most American cities. A round, green prickly burr is the husk of the nut, and this is lined inside with soft, white, velvety down. Nestled closely in this soft bed lie several dark-brown nuts with soft, polished shells. The first frost opens the burrs, and the sweet nuts fall to the ground.
You may recognize the tree in midsummer by its long-tasselled, cream-white blossoms, which hang in profusion from the ends of the branches. The chestnut is the only forest-tree that blossoms at that time, so you cannot mistake it. Later you will know it by the prickly green burrs, which develop quickly. The tree is large and common to most States. The leaves are from six to eight inches long; they are coarsely toothed at the edges, sharply pointed at the end, and are prominently veined on the under side. They grow mostly in tufts drooping from a common centre.
The inner bark and the root of the slippery-elm are not only pleasant to the taste but are said to be nutritious. They have a glutinous quality that gives the tree its name, and the flavor is nutty and substantial.
This variety of elm is common and is found from the Saint Lawrence River to Florida. It grows to a height of sixty or seventy feet, with spreading branches which flatten at the top. The outline of the tree is much like that of a champagne-glass, wide at the top and narrow at the stem. The slippery-elm resembles the white elm, but there are differences by which you can know it. If you stroke the leaf of a white elm you will find that it is rough one way but smooth the other; stroke the leaf of the slippery-elm, and it will be rough both ways. The buds of the white elm are smooth, those of the slippery-elm are hairy. Then you cannot mistake the inner bark of the slippery-elm, which is fragrant, thick, and gummy. The outer bark is dark brown, with shallow ridges and large, loose plates. The leaves are oblong, rounded at the base, and are coarsely toothed. They are prominently veined and are dark green, paler on the under side.
The sassafras grows wild from Massachusetts to Florida, and west through the Mississippi Valley. It is generally a small tree, from thirty to fifty feet high, and is often found growing in dense thickets in uncultivated fields. The edible bark is dark red-brown. It is thick but not hard and is deeply ridged and scaled. The cracked bark is one of the characteristics of the tree; it begins to split when the tree is about three years old. The strong aromatic flavor is held by the bark, the wood, the roots, the stems, and the leaves. I have never tasted the fruit, which is berry-like, dark blue, and glossy, and is held by a thick, scarlet calyx; but the birds are fond of it.
Sassafras tea was at one time considered the best of spring medicines for purifying the blood, and the bark was brought to market cut in short lengths and tied together in bunches.
The leaves are varied; on one twig there will sometimes be three differently shaped leaves. Some will be oval, some with three lobes, and some mitten-shaped; that is, an oval leaf with a side lobe like the thumb of a mitten.
There is no more refreshing salad than the watercress gathered fresh from a cool, running brook. It is a common plant, found almost anywhere in streams and brooks. Its smooth green or brownish leaves lie on the top of the water; they are compound, with from three to nine small rounded leaflets. The flavor is peppery and pungent. Watercress sandwiches are good. The white flowers are small and insignificant and grow in a small cluster at the end of the stem.
A salad of tender, young dandelion leaves is not to be despised, and the plant grows everywhere. Only the very young leaves, that come up almost white in the spring, are good. The flavor is slightly bitter with the wholesome bitterness one likes in the spring of the year. These young leaves are also good when cooked like spinach. The plant is so common it does not really call for a description, and if you know it you can skip the following:
Growing low on the ground, sometimes with leaves lying flat on the surface, the dandelion sends up a hollow, leafless stem crowned with a bright-yellow, many-petalled flower about the size of a silver fifty-cent piece. The seed head is a round ball of white down. The leaves are deeply notched, much like thistle leaves, but they have no prickles.
My first experience with wood-ticks, jiggers, and Jersey mosquitoes was during the summer we spent at Bayville, near Toms River, N. J. In many ways Bayville, with its sand, its pines, its beautiful wood roads, and rare wild flowers, is an interesting and attractive place. The salty air is fine when the thermometer is self-respecting and keeps the mercury below 90° in the shade, but the oak underbrush harbors wood-ticks, the blackberry bushes cover you with jiggers, the woods are full of deer-flies, and the vicious mosquito, whose name is Legion, is everywhere where he is not barred out.
I had been told of the ticks that infest the forests of the South, had heard blood-curdling stories of how they sometimes bury themselves, entire, in the flesh of animals and men and have to be cut out, and my horror of them was great. In reality I found them unpleasant enough but, as far as we were concerned, comparatively harmless.
The wood-tick is a small, rather disgusting-looking creature which, in appearance and size, resembles the common bedbug. It fastens itself upon you without your knowledge and you do not feel it even when it begins to suck your blood, but something generally impels you to pass your hand over the back of your neck, or cheek, where the thing is clinging, and, feeling the lump, you pull it off and no great harm done. The tick is supposed always to bury its head in the flesh, and it is said that if the head is left in when the bug is pulled off an ugly sore will be the result. We had no experience of that kind, however, nor, in our hurry to get rid of it, did we stop to remove the bug scientifically by dropping oil on it, as Kephart advises, but just naturally and simply, also vigorously, we grasped it between thumb and forefinger and hastily plucked it off. The effect of the bite was no worse on any of our party than that of the Jersey mosquito.
Often your friends will see a tick on you and tell you of it even while they have several, all unknown to themselves, decorating their own countenance. The name by which science knows this unlovely bug is Ixodes leech.
The tiny mite called by the natives jigger and redbug is more annoying than the wood-tick, one reason being that there are so many more of him. He really does penetrate the skin, and his wanderings under the surface give one the feeling of an itching rash which covers the body. You won't see the jigger—he is too small, but if you invade his domain you will certainly feel him.
The deer-fly will bite and bite hard enough to hurt. It will drive its sharp mandibles into your skin with such force as to take out a bit of the flesh, sometimes causing the blood to flow, but the bite does not seem particularly poisonous, though you feel it at the time and it generally raises a lump on the flesh. The deer-fly belongs to the family of gadflies. It is larger than a house-fly and its wings stand out at right angles to its body. It will not trouble you much except in the woods.
The Adirondack and North Woods region is not only the resort of hunters, campers, and seekers after health and pleasure, but it is also the haunt of the maddening black-fly. From early spring until the middle of July or first of August the black-fly holds the territory; then it evacuates and is seen no more until next season, when it begins a new campaign.
Under the name of buffalo-fly the black-fly is found in the west, where, on the prairies, it has been known to wage war on horses until death ensued—death of the horses, not of the fly. It is a small fly about one-sixth of an inch long, thick-bodied, and black. It is said to have broad silvery circles on its legs, but no one ever stops to look at these. Its proboscis is developed to draw blood freely, and it is always in working order.
The only virtue the black-fly seems to have is its habit of quitting operations at sundown and leaving to other tormenters the task of keeping you awake at night. When the black-fly bites you will know it, and it will leave its mark, when it does leave, which must generally be by your help, for it holds on with commendable persistence. If you would learn more of this charming insect, look for Simulium molestum in a book which treats the subject scientifically.
There is another pest of the North Woods which the guides call the no-see-um. It is a very diminutive midge resembling the mosquito in form and viciousness, but so small as to be almost invisible. Night and day are the same to the no-see-um; its warfare is continuous and its bite very annoying, but it disappears with the black-fly in July or August. By September the mountains and woods are swept clear of all these troublesome things, except at times and in some places the ever-hungry mosquito, which will linger on for a last bite in his summer feast.
The only way to relieve the irritation caused by the bites of these pests, including the mosquito, is to bathe the affected parts with camphor, alcohol, or diluted ammonia. When there are but one or two bites they may be touched with strong ammonia, but it will not do to use this too freely, as it will burn the skin.
In the mountains of Pennsylvania the most troublesome insects I found were the tiny gnats that persist in flying into one's eyes in a very exasperating fashion. They swarm in a cloud in front of your face as you walk and make constant dashes at your eyes, although to reach their goal brings instant death.
It is not much trouble to get one of these gnats out of your eye when it once gets in. All that is necessary is to take the eyelashes of the upper eyelid between your thumb and first finger, and draw the upper eyelid down over the under eyelid. The under eyelashes sweep the upper lid clear, and the rush of tears that comes to the eye washes the insect out.
While honey-bees and wasps can make themselves most disagreeable when disturbed, you can usually keep away from beehives and bee-trees as well as from the great gray, papery nests of the wasp; but the hornets or yellow-jackets have an uncomfortable habit of building in low bushes and on the ground where you may literally put your foot in a hornets' nest.
They are hot-tempered little people, these same hornets, as I have reason to know. Twice I have been punished by them, and both times it was my head they attacked. Once I found them, or they found me, in a cherry-tree; and the second time we met was when I stepped in their nest hidden on the ground. Their sting is like a hot wire pressed into the flesh. When angered they will chase you and swarm around your head, stinging whenever they can; but they may be beaten off if some friendly hand will wield a towel or anything else that comes handy.
If the stings of any of these stinging insects are left in the wounds they should be taken out with a clean needle or clean knife-blade. In any case mix some mud into a paste and plaster it on the parts that have been stung. If you are in camp and have with you a can of antiphlogistine use that instead of the mud; it is at least more sightly and is equally efficient in reducing inflammation.
Various things have been devised as protection against insect torments.
One is a veil of net to be worn over the hat. You will find this described in Chapter IV under the heading of Personal Outfits.
Then there are dopes to be rubbed over the face, neck, and hands. The three said to be the best are Nessmuk's Dope, Breck's Dope, and H. P. Wells's Bug-Juice. There is also a Rexall preparation which, I am told, is good while it stays on, but will wash off with perspiration.
In giving the recipe for his dope, Nessmuk says that it produces a glaze over the skin and that in preventing insect bites he has never known it to fail. This is the dope:
| Pine tar | 3 oz. |
| Castor oil | 2 oz. |
| Oil of pennyroyal | 1 oz. |
Simmer all together over a slow fire, and bottle.
This is sufficient for four persons for two weeks.
| Pine tar | 3 oz. |
| Olive (or castor oil) | 2 oz. |
| Oil of pennyroyal | 1 oz. |
| Citronella | 1 oz. |
| Creosote | 1 oz. |
| Camphor (pulverized) | 1 oz. |
| Large tube of carbolated vaseline. |
Heat the tar and oil, and add the other ingredients; simmer over slow fire until well mixed. The tar may be omitted if disliked or for ladies' use.
Breck tells us that his dope was planned to be a counter-irritant after being bitten as well as a preventer of bites.
| Olive oil | ½ | pt. | |
| Creosote | 1 | oz. | |
| Pennyroyal | 1 | oz. | |
| Camphor | 1 | oz. |
Dissolve camphor in alcohol and mix.
Any dope must be well rubbed in on face, neck, ears, and behind ears, hands (on the backs), wrists, and arms; but be very careful not to get it in your eyes.
Smudges are said to afford relief in camp, but my own experience has been that the insects can stand them better than I. A smudge is made by burning things that make little flame and much smoke. Dead leaves, not too dry, will make a fairly good smudge, but a better way is to burn damp cedar bark, or branches, on piles of hot coals taken from the camp-fire and kept alive at different sides of the camp.
The accounts of extreme suffering caused by insect bites come from unusually sensitive people. All people are not affected alike. Two persons from one camp will tell entirely different stories of their experience with insects. The best way to encounter these, as all other annoyances, is to protect yourself as well as you can and then, without whimpering, make the best of the situation. All the pests described will not fall upon you at once, and, taken singly or even doubly, you will manage to survive the ordeal. If the pleasure of the trail did not over-balance the pain there would be fewer campers to relate their troubles.
The bite of a poisonous snake is by all means to be avoided, and the point is: you almost always can avoid it. With all the snakes in the United States, Doctor William T. Hornaday, director of the Zoological Park of New York City, tells us that out of seventy-five million people not more than two die each year of snake-bites.
Snakes are not man-hunters; they will not track you down; they much prefer to keep out of your way. What you have to do is to keep out of theirs. In a region where poisonous snakes abound it is well to wear khaki leggins as a protection in case you inadvertently step too near and anger the creatures, for in such cases they sometimes strike before you have time to beat a retreat. According to Doctor Hornaday, the poisonous snakes of North America are:
| The rattlesnake, |
| Water-moccasin, |
| Copperhead, |
| Sonora coral-snake, |
| Harlequin snake. |
The rattlesnake appears to vary in color and markings in the different localities where it is found, and there are fourteen or fifteen varieties, but all carry the rattles, shake them warningly, and coil before they strike. The rattlesnake does not want to fight and if you keep at a safe distance it will glide off in another direction, but it is safest not to venture within striking distance, which is said to be two-thirds the length of the snake, even if the snake has not coiled, for it moves quickly and strikes like a flash.
The rattles are at the extreme end of the tail and are composed of horny joints. The sound of the rattle is much like the humming of a locust (cicada). Rattlesnakes are often found sunning themselves on large rocks, and stone-quarries are the chosen winter quarters where whole colonies assemble. They are also found, during the summer, among underbrush and in stubble-fields, where they probably go to hunt field-mice and other small mammals.
The mountains of Pennsylvania are a favorite resort of the rattlesnake, but, though I have passed many summers in Pike County, famous for its snakes, the only live one I ever saw in that locality was in a box at Rowland station. The men of our party occasionally killed one and brought it to camp as a trophy, but one of our weekend guests spent most of his time hunting the rattler that he might take its skin back to the city, yet without success.
It is the banded rattlesnake that is usually found in Pennsylvania. The color is yellowish and it is marked with irregular, wide bands of dark brown. Sometimes the snake is almost black, and it is thought that it turns dark with age.
The rattlesnake marked in diamond patterns of gold outline on brown is of the south and is oftenest found in Florida. This is a very large snake, and closely allied to it is the Texas rattlesnake, which is the same in markings and color, but paler, as if faded out.
The massasauga is the rattlesnake occasionally found in the swamps from western New York to Nebraska, but it is rare. Its color is light brown with patches of dark brown its entire length.
The copperhead is not a rattler, though its vibrating tail amid dry leaves will sometimes hum like one. (This is also true of the blacksnake.) Its bite is very poisonous. It is found amid rocks and in the woods, and is at home from New England and the Atlantic coast west to Indiana and south to Texas. This snake is seldom more than three feet long. Its color is light reddish-brown with bands of rich chestnut which are narrow on the back and wide at the sides. The underpart is whitish with dark spots on the abdomen. The head is generally coppery in color but not always. In Texas the colors of the copperhead are stronger, the bands and head are decidedly reddish, and the bands have narrow white borders.
The harlequin snake and the coral-snake are so similar in color and in habits, one description for both will answer our purpose. They are southern snakes, beginning in southern Indiana and extending south. They are quite poisonous, but of such retiring habits as hardly to be classed as dangerous. Most of their time is spent hidden under the sand and in the ground, but when they do come out their colors are so brilliant as not to be mistaken. On the harlequin snake the colors are bright coral-red, yellow, and black, which alternate in stripes that encircle the body. Its head is always banded with a broad yellow stripe. The coral-snake is much the same in color, and only a close observer would notice the difference. The coral-snake is also found in Arizona.
The water-moccasin is ugly, and ugly all the way through. Its deadly viciousness is not redeemed by any outward beauty. Its average length is three and a half feet, though it is occasionally longer. Its unlovely body is thick and the color of greenish mud; the sides are paler and have wide, blackish bands. There are dark bands from the eyes to the mouth and above them there are pale streaks. The top of the head is very dark. The abdomen is yellow with splashes of brown or black. Heavy shields overhang the eyes and give a sinister expression to their angry glare. When suddenly approached the moccasin opens wide its white-lined mouth, and one then understands why it is called cottonmouth.
This snake does not coil before its strikes, but vibrates its tail slowly and watches its prey with mouth open. The moccasin is decidedly a southern snake, and girls of the south know that its home is along the edges of bayous and in the swamps. It is frequently seen with its head and a small part of its body out of water while the rest is submerged, but at times it will be found on a water-soaked log or on underbrush and low boughs of trees that overhang the water. The bite is very poisonous.
There are many other snakes in the United States, but they are not venomous. Here is one thing to remember: you need never fear a snake found in this country which has lengthwise stripes, that is, stripes running from head to tail. Daniel C. Beard tells me that he has learned this from observation, and Raymond L. Ditmars, curator of reptiles in the New York Zoological Park, agrees with him.
While the lengthwise-striped snakes are harmless, others not striped in this way are harmless, too. The blacksnake, though he looks an ugly customer and, when cornered, will sometimes show fight, is not venomous and his bite is not deep. It is, therefore, wanton cruelty to kill every snake that crosses your path simply because it happens to be a snake. Kephart, in his book of "Camping and Woodcraft," says in regard to identifying the poisonous snake:
"The rattlesnake, copperhead, and cottonmouth are easily distinguished from all other snakes, as all three of them bear a peculiar mark, or rather a pair of marks, that no other animal possesses. This mark is the pit, which is a deep cavity on each side of the face between the nostrils and the eye, sinking into the upper jaw-bone."
If, when one has been bitten and the snake killed, an examination is made of its head, it can be ascertained immediately whether the snake was venomous, and in this way unnecessary fright may be avoided.
The only other venomous reptile found in the United States is the beaded lizard, called Gila monster (pronounced heela). Unless you visit the desert regions of Arizona and New Mexico, you will not be apt to run across this most interesting though poisonous reptile.
The Gila monster looks very much like a unique piece of Indian beadwork, with its fat body and stubby legs covered with bright-colored, bead-like tubercles, which form almost a Navajo pattern. Its length is about nineteen inches, and its beads are colored salmon, flesh-pink, white or yellow, and black. Though it has the appearance of being stuffed with cotton, it is really formidable and very much alive. Its jaws are strong; when it bites it holds on like a bulldog, and there is no way to force it to open its mouth except to pry the powerful jaws apart. While otherwise slow of movement, it will turn quickly from side to side, snapping viciously. The inside of the Gila's mouth is black, and when angry it opens it wide and hisses.
If the unlikely should chance to happen and one of your party is bitten by a poisonous snake, first aid should be given immediately, and if a physician is within reach he should be summoned as quickly as possible. Much depends, however, upon what is done first. Any one can administer the following treatment, and it should be done without flinching, for it may mean the saving of a life:
(1) As soon as the person is bitten twist a tourniquet very tightly above the wound, that is, between the wound and the heart, to keep the poison as far as possible from entering the entire system.
(2) Slash the wound or stab it with a clean knife-blade and force it to bleed copiously. If there is no break in the skin or membrane of your mouth or lips and no cavity in any of your teeth, suck the wound to draw out the poison.
(3) Give a stimulant in small doses at frequent intervals to stimulate the heart and lungs and strengthen the nerves, but avoid overdoing this, for the result will be harmful.
(4) If you have with you an antivenomous serum, inject it as directed by the formula that accompanies it.
Tie a loose bandage around the affected member, a handkerchief, neck scarf, or even a rope for a tourniquet, to check circulation, as described in Chapter XII, on Accidents. Every little while loosen the tourniquet, then tighten it again, for it will not do to stop the circulation entirely.
All authorities do not advise sucking the wound, but it is generally done, for with a perfectly sound and healthy mouth there is no danger, as the poison enters the system only by contact with the blood.
Some writers advocate cauterizing the wound with a hot iron; but, whatever is done, do quickly, and do not be afraid. Fear is contagious and exceedingly harmful to the patient. Remember that a snake-bite is seldom fatal, and that a swollen arm or leg does not mean that the case is hopeless.
There are two kinds of poisonous plants: those that are poison to the touch and those that are harmless unless taken inwardly. Both may be avoided when you learn to identify them.