As this reptile is so dangerous a neighbour to the inhabitants of the river-banks, many means have been adopted for its destruction.
One such method, where a kind of harpoon is employed, is described by a traveller in the East as follows:—
"The most favourable season for thus hunting the Crocodile is either the winter, when the animal usually sleeps on sand-banks, luxuriating in the rays of the sun, or the spring, after the pairing time, when the female regularly watches the sand islands where she has buried her eggs.
"The native hunter finds out the place and conceals himself by digging a hole in the sand near the spot where the animal usually lies. On its arrival at the accustomed spot the hunter darts his harpoon or spear with all his force, for, in order that its stroke may be successful, the iron should penetrate to a depth of at least four inches, in order that the barb may be fixed firmly in the flesh.
"The Crocodile, on being wounded, rushes into the water, and the huntsman retreats into a canoe, with which a companion has hastened to his assistance.
"A piece of wood attached to the harpoon by a long cord swims on the water and shows the direction in which the Crocodile is moving. The hunters pull on this rope and drag the beast to the surface of the water, where it is again pierced by a second harpoon.
"When the animal is struck it by no means remains inactive; on the contrary, it lashes instantly with its tail, and endeavours to bite the rope asunder. To prevent this, the rope is made of about thirty separate slender lines, not twisted together, but merely placed in juxtaposition, and bound around at intervals of every two feet. The thin strands get between the Crocodile's teeth, and it is unable to sever them.
"In spite of the great strength of the reptile, two men can drag a tolerably large one out of the water, tie up his mouth, twist his legs over his back, and kill him by driving a sharp steel spike into the spinal cord just at the back of the skull.
"There are many other modes of capturing the Crocodile, one of which is the snare portrayed in the illustration.
"Two elastic saplings are bent down and kept in position by stout cords, one of which, bears a baited hook, while the other is fashioned into a noose. These cords are so arranged as to release the bent saplings as soon as the Crocodile pulls upon the baited hook. If all works properly, the animal suddenly finds himself suspended in the air, where he remains helpless and at the mercy of the hunter, who soon arrives and despatches him.
"The extreme tenacity of life possessed by the Crocodile is well exemplified by an incident which occurred in Ceylon. A fine specimen had been caught, and to all appearance killed, its interior parts removed, and the aperture kept open by a stick placed across it. A few hours afterwards the captors returned to their victim with the intention of cutting off the head, but were surprised to find the spot vacant. On examining the locality it was evident that the creature had retained sufficient life to crawl back into the water. From this it may be imagined that it is no easy matter to drive the breath out of a Crocodile. Its life seems to take a separate hold of every fibre in the creature's body, and though pierced through and through with bullets, crushed by heavy blows, and its body converted into a very pincushion for spears, it writhes and twists and struggles with wondrous strength, snapping savagely with its huge jaws, and lashing its muscular tail from side to side with such vigour that it requires a bold man to venture within range of that terrible weapon."
Sometimes combats occur between this creature and the tiger, one of the fiercest and most terrible of all quadrupeds. Tigers frequently go down to the rivers to drink, and, upon these occasions, the Crocodile, if near, may attempt to seize them. The ferocious beast, however, seldom falls unrevenged; for the instant he finds himself seized, he turns with great agility and fierceness on his enemy, and endeavours to strike his claws into the Crocodile's eyes, while the latter drags him into the water, where they continue to struggle until the tiger be drowned, and his triumphant antagonist feasts upon his carcass. Such a combat is depicted in the illustration which appears on an accompanying page.
Difficulty of identifying the Letââh—Probability that it is a collective and not a specific term—Various Lizards of Palestine—The Green or Jersey Lizard—The Cyprius, its appearance and habits—The Glass Snake or Scheltopusic—Translation of the word chomet—Probability that it signifies the Skink—Medicinal uses of the Lizard—The Seps tribe—The common Cicigna, and the popular belief concerning its habits—The Sphænops and its shallow tunnel.
In Leviticus xi. 30, the word Lizard is used as the rendering of the Hebrew word letââh (pronounced as L'tâh-âh). There are one or two difficulties about the word, but, without going into the question of etymology, which is beside the object of this work, it will be sufficient to state that the best authorities accept the rendering, and that in the Jewish Bible the word Lizard is retained, but with the mark of doubt appended to it.
A very common species of Lizard, and therefore likely to be one of those which are grouped under the common name of Letââh, is the Cyprius (Plestiodon auratum). This handsome Lizard is golden-yellow in colour, beautifully spotted with orange and scarlet, and may be distinguished, even when the colours have fled after death, by the curiously formed ears, which are strongly toothed in front. It is very plentiful in Palestine, and, like others of its kin, avoids cultivated tracts, and is generally found on rocky and sandy soil which cannot be tilled. It is active, and, if alarmed, hides itself quickly in the sand or under stones.
It belongs to the great family of the Skinks, many of which, like the familiar blind-worm of our own country, are without external legs, and, though true Lizards, progress in a snake-like manner, and are generally mistaken for snakes. One of these is the Glass Snake or Scheltopusic (Pseudopus pallasii), which has two very tiny hind legs, but which is altogether so snake-like that it is considered by the natives to be really a serpent. They may well be excused for their error, as the only external indications of limbs are a pair of slightly-projecting scales at the place where the hind legs would be in a fully-developed Lizard.
Though tolerably plentiful, the Scheltopusic is not very often seen, as it is timid and wary, and, when it suspects danger, glides away silently into some place of safety. When adult, the colour of this Lizard is usually chestnut, profusely mottled with black or deep brown, the edge of each scale being of the darker colour. It feeds upon insects and small reptiles, and has been known to devour a nest full of young birds.
In Levit. xi. 30 is a Hebrew word, chomet, which is given in the Authorized Version as Snail. There is, however, no doubt that the word is wrongly translated, and that by it some species of Lizard is signified. The Jewish Bible follows the Authorized Version, but affixes the mark of doubt to the word. There is another word, shablul, which undoubtedly does signify the snail, and will be mentioned in its proper place.
It is most probable that the word chomet includes, among other Lizards, many of the smaller Skinks which inhabit Palestine. Among them we may take as an example the Common Skink (Scincus officinalis), a reptile which derives its specific name from the fact that it was formerly used in medicine, together with mummy, and the other disgusting ingredients which formed the greater part of the old Pharmacopœia.
Even at the present day, it is used for similar purposes in the East, and is in consequence captured for the use of physicians, the body being simply dried in the sun, and then sent to market for sale. It is principally employed for the cure of sunstroke, nettle-rash, sand-blindness, or fever, and both patient and physician have the greatest confidence in its powers. It is said by some European physicians that the flesh of the Skink really does possess medicinal powers, and that it has fallen into disrepute chiefly because those powers have been exaggerated. In former days, the head and feet were thought to possess the greatest efficacy, and were valued accordingly.
Like all its tribe, the Skink loves sandy localities, the soil exactly suiting its peculiar habits. Although tolerably active, it does not run so fast or so far as many other Lizards, and, when alarmed, it has a peculiar faculty for sinking itself almost instantaneously under the sand, much after the fashion of the shore-crabs of our own country. Indeed, it is even more expeditious than the crab, which occupies some little time in burrowing under the wet and yielding sand, whereas the Skink slips beneath the dry and comparatively hard sand with such rapidity that it seems rather to be diving into a nearly excavated burrow than to be scooping a hollow for itself.
The sand is therefore a place of safety to the Skink, which does not, like the crab, content itself with merely burying its body just below the surface, but continues to burrow, sinking itself in a few seconds to the depth of nearly a yard.
The length of the Skink is about eight inches, and its very variable colour is generally yellowish brown, crossed with several dark bands. Several specimens, however, are spotted instead of banded with brown, while some are banded with white, and others are spotted with white. In all, however, the under-surface is silver grey.
Demeanour of the Chameleon on the ground—The independent eyes—Its frequent change of colour—The Nilotic Monitor.
In Levit. xi. 30 there occurs a word which has caused great trouble to commentators. The word is koach.
There are two lizards to which the term may possibly be applied—namely, the Chameleon and the Monitor; and, as the Authorized Version of the Scriptures accepts the former interpretation, we will first describe the Chameleon.
This reptile is very plentiful in the Holy Land, as well as in Egypt, so that the Israelites would be perfectly familiar with it, both during their captivity and after their escape. It is but a small reptile, and the reader may well ask why a name denoting strength should be given to it. I think that we may find the reason for its name in the extraordinary power of its grasp, as it is able, by means of its peculiarly-formed feet and prehensile tail, to grasp the branches so tightly that it can scarcely be removed without damage.
I once saw six or seven Chameleons huddled up together, all having clasped each other's legs and tails so firmly that they formed a bundle that might be rolled along the ground without being broken up. In order to show the extraordinary power of the Chameleon's grasp, I have had a figure drawn from a sketch taken by myself from a specimen which I kept for several months.
When the Chameleon wished to pass from one branch to another, it used to hold firmly to the branch by the tail and one hind-foot, and stretch out its body nearly horizontally, feeling about with the other three feet, as if in search of a convenient resting-place. In this curious attitude it would remain for a considerable time, apparently suffering no inconvenience, though even the spider-monkey would have been unable to maintain such an attitude for half the length of time.
The strength of the grasp is really astonishing when contrasted with the size of the reptile, as any one will find who allows the Chameleon to grasp his finger, or who tries to detach it from the branch to which it is clinging. The feet are most curiously made. They are furnished with five toes, which are arranged like those of parrots and other climbing birds, so as to close upon each other like the thumb and finger of a human hand. They are armed with little yellow claws, slightly curved and very sharp, and when they grasp the skin of the hand they give it an unpleasantly sharp pinch.
The tail is as prehensile as that of the spider-monkey, to which the Chameleon bears a curious resemblance in some of its attitudes, though nothing can be more different than the volatile, inquisitive, restless disposition of the spider-monkey and the staid, sober demeanour of the Chameleon. The reptile has the power of guiding the tail to any object as correctly as if there were an eye at the end of the tail. When it has been travelling over the branches of trees, I have often seen it direct its tail to a projecting bud, and grasp it as firmly as if the bud had been before and not behind it.
Sometimes, when it rests on a branch, it allows the tail to hang down as a sort of balance, the tip coiling and uncoiling unceasingly. But, as soon as the reptile wishes to move, the tail is tightened to the branch, and at once coiled round it. There really seems to be almost a separate vitality and consciousness on the part of the tail, which glides round an object as if it were acting with entire independence of its owner.
On the ground the Chameleon fares but poorly. Its walk is absolutely ludicrous, and an experienced person might easily fail to identify a Chameleon when walking with the same animal on a branch. It certainly scrambles along at a tolerable rate, but it is absurdly awkward, its legs sprawling widely on either side, and its feet grasping futilely at every step. The tail, which is usually so lithe and nimble, is then held stiffly from the body, with a slight curve upwards.
The eyes are strange objects, projecting far from the head, and each acting quite independently of the other, so that one eye may often be directed forwards, and the other backwards. The eyeballs are covered with a thick wrinkled skin, except a small aperture at the tip, which can be opened and closed like our own eyelids.
The changing colour of the Chameleon has been long known, though there are many mistaken ideas concerning it.
The reptile does not necessarily assume the colour of any object on which it is placed, but sometimes takes a totally different colour. Thus, if my Chameleon happened to come upon any scarlet substance, the colour immediately became black, covered with innumerable circular spots of light yellow. The change was so instantaneous that, as it crawled on the scarlet cloth, the colour would alter, and the fore-part of the body would be covered with yellow spots, while the hinder parts retained their dull black. Scarlet always annoyed the Chameleon, and it tried to escape whenever it found itself near any substance of the obnoxious hue.
The normal colour was undoubtedly black, with a slight tinge of grey. But in a short time the whole creature would become a vivid verdigris green, and, while the spectator was watching it, the legs would become banded with rings of bright yellow, and spats and streaks of the same colour would appear on the head and body.
When it was excited either by anger or by expectation—as, for example, when it heard a large fly buzzing near it—the colours were singularly beautiful, almost exactly resembling in hue and arrangement those of the jaguar. Of all the colours, green seemed generally to predominate, but the creature would pass so rapidly from one colour to another that it was scarcely possible to follow the various gradations of hue.
Some persons have imagined that the variation of colour depends on the wants and passions of the animal. This is not the case. The change is often caused by mental emotion, but is not dependent on it; and I believe that the animal has no control whatever over its colour. The best proof of this assertion may be found in the fact that my own Chameleon changed colour several times after its death; and, indeed, as long as I had the dead body before me, changes of hue were taking place.
The food of the Chameleon consists of insects, mostly flies, which it catches by means of its tongue, which can be protruded to an astonishing distance. The tongue is nearly cylindrical, and is furnished at the tip with a slight cavity, which is filled with a very glutinous secretion. When the Chameleon sees a fly or other insect, it gently protrudes the tongue once or twice, as if taking aim, like a billiard-player with his cue, and then, with a moderately smart stroke, carries off the insect on the glutinous tip of the tongue. The force with which the Chameleon strikes is really wonderful. My own specimen used to look for flies from my hand, and at first I was as much surprised with the force of the blow struck by the tongue as I was with the grasping power of the feet.
So much for the Chameleon. We will now take the Nilotic Monitor and the Land Monitor, the other reptiles which have been conjectured to be the real representatives of the Koach.
These lizards attain to some size, the former sometimes measuring six feet in length, and the latter but a foot or so less. Of the two, the Land Monitor, being the more common, both in Palestine and Egypt, has perhaps the best claim to be considered as the Koach of Scripture. It is sometimes called the Land Crocodile. It is a carnivorous animal, feeding upon other reptiles and the smaller mammalia, and is very fond of the eggs of the crocodile, which it destroys in great numbers, and is in consequence much venerated by the inhabitants of the country about the Nile.
The theory that this reptile may be the Koach of Leviticus is strengthened by the fact that even at the present day it is cooked and eaten by the natives, whereas the chameleon is so small and bony that scarcely any one would take the trouble of cooking it.
The Gecko takes its name from the sound which it utters, resembling the word "geck-o." It is exceedingly plentiful, and inhabits the interior of houses, where it can find the flies and other insects on which it lives. On account of the structure of the toes, each of which is flattened into a disk-like form, and furnished on the under surface with a series of plates like those on the back of the sucking-fish, it can walk up a smooth, perpendicular wall with perfect ease, and can even cling to the ceiling like the flies on which it feeds.
In the illustration the reader will observe the flat, fan-like expansions at the ends of the toes, by which the Gecko is able to adhere to flat surfaces, and to dart with silent rapidity from place to place.
Serpents in general—The fiery Serpents of the wilderness—Explanation of the words "flying" and "fiery" as applied to Serpents—Haunts of the Serpent—The Cobra, or Asp of Scripture—The Cerastes, or Horned Serpent—Appearance and habits of the reptile—The "Adder in the path."
As we have seen that so much looseness of nomenclature prevailed among the Hebrews even with regard to the mammalia, birds, and lizards, we can but expect that the names of the Serpents will be equally difficult to identify.
No less than seven names are employed in the Old Testament to denote some species of Serpent; but there are only two which can be identified with any certainty, four others being left to mere conjecture, and one being clearly a word which, like our snake or serpent, is a word not restricted to any particular species, but signifying Serpents in general. This word is nâchâsh (pronounced nah-kahsh). It is unfortunate that the word is so variously translated in different passages of Scripture, and we cannot do better than to follow it through the Ola Testament, so as to bring all the passages under our glance.
The first mention of the Nâchâsh occurs in Gen. iii., in the well-known passage where the Serpent is said to be more subtle than all the beasts of the field, the wisdom or subtlety of the Serpent having evidently an allegorical and not a categorical signification. We find the same symbolism employed in the New Testament, the disciples of our Lord being told to be "wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."
Allusion is made to the gliding movement of the Serpent tribe in Prov. xxx. 19. On this part of the subject little need be said, except that the movements of the Serpent are owing to the mobility of the ribs, which are pushed forward in succession and drawn back again, so as to catch against any inequality of the ground. This power is increased by the structure of the scales. Those of the upper part of the body, which are not used for locomotion, are shaped something like the scales of a fish; but those of the lower part of the body, which come in contact with the ground, are broad belts, each overlapping the other, and each connected with one pair of ribs.
When, therefore, the Serpent pushes forward the ribs, the edges of the scaly belts will catch against the slightest projection, and are able to give a very powerful impetus to the body. It is scarcely possible to drag a snake backwards over rough ground; while on a smooth surface, such as glass, the Serpent would be totally unable to proceed. This, however, was not likely to have been studied by the ancient Hebrews, who were among the most unobservant of mankind with regard to details of natural history: it is, therefore, no wonder that the gliding of the Serpent should strike the writer of the proverb in question as a mystery which he could not explain.
The poisonous nature of some of the Serpents is mentioned in several passages of Scripture; and it will be seen that the ancient Hebrews, like many modern Europeans, believed that the poison lay in the forked tongue. See, for example, Ps. lviii. 4: "Their poison is like the poison of a serpent" (nâchâsh). Also Prov. xxiii. 32, in which the sacred writer says of wine that it brings woe, sorrow, contentions, wounds without cause, redness of eyes, and that "at the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder."
The idea that the poison of the Serpent lies in the tongue is seen in several passages of Scripture. "They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent; adders' poison is under their lips" (Ps. cxl. 3). Also in Job xx. 16, the sacred writer says of the hypocrite, that "he shall suck the poison of asps: the viper's tongue shall slay him."
As to the fiery Serpents of the wilderness, it is scarcely needful to mention that the epithet of "fiery" does not signify that the Serpents in question produced real fire from their mouths, but that allusion is made to the power and virulence of their poison, and to the pain caused by their bite. We ourselves naturally employ a similar metaphor, and speak of a "burning pain," of a "fiery trial," of "hot anger," and the like.
THE ISRAELITES ARE BITTEN BY SERPENTS IN THE WILDERNESS, AND MOSES LIFTS UP THE SERPENT OF BRASS.
The epithet of "flying" which is applied to these Serpents is explained by the earlier commentators as having reference to a Serpent which they called the Dart Snake, and which they believed to lie in wait for men and to spring at them from a distance. They thought that this snake hid itself either in hollows of the ground or in trees, and sprang through the air for thirty feet upon any man or beast that happened to pass by.
We will now take the various species of Serpents mentioned in the Bible, as nearly as they can be identified.
Of one species there is no doubt whatever. This is the Cobra di Capello, a serpent which is evidently signified by the Hebrew word pethen.
This celebrated Serpent has long been famous, not only for the deadly power of its venom, but for the singular performances in which it takes part. The Cobra inhabits many parts of Asia, and in almost every place where it is found, certain daring men take upon themselves the profession of serpent-charmers, and handle these fearful reptiles with impunity, cause them to move in time to certain musical sounds, and assert that they bear a life charmed against the bite of these deadly playmates.
One of these men will take a Cobra in his bare hands, toss it about with perfect indifference, allow it to twine about his naked breast, tie it around his neck, and treat it with as little ceremony as if it were an earth-worm. He will then take the same Serpent—or apparently the same—make it bite a fowl, which soon dies from the poison, and will then renew his performance.
Some persons say that the whole affair is but an exhibition of that jugglery in which the natives of the East Indies are such wondrous adepts; that the Serpents with which the man plays are harmless, having been deprived of their fangs, and that a really venomous specimen is adroitly substituted for the purpose of killing the fowl. It is, moreover, said, and truly, that a snake thought to have been rendered harmless by the deprivation of its fangs, has bitten one of its masters and killed him, thus proving the imposture.
Still, neither of these explanations will entirely disprove the mastery of man over a venomous Serpent.
In the first instance, it is surely as perilous an action to substitute a venomous Serpent as to play with it. Where was it hidden, why did it not bite the man instead of the fowl, and how did the juggler prevent it from using its teeth while he was conveying it away?
And, in the second instance, the detection of one impostor is by no means a proof that all who pretend to the same powers are likewise impostors.
The following narrative by a traveller in the East seems to prove that the serpent-charmer possessed sufficient power to induce a truly poisonous Serpent to leave its hole, and to perform certain antics at his command:
"A snake-charmer came to my bungalow, requesting me to allow him to show his snakes. As I had frequently seen his performance, I declined to witness a repetition of it, but told him that if he would accompany me to the jungle and catch a Cobra, that I knew frequented the place, I would give him a present of money. He was quite willing, and as I was anxious to test the truth of the charm he claimed to possess, I carefully counted his tame snakes, and put a guard over them until we should return.
"Before starting I also examined his clothing, and satisfied myself that he had no snake about his person. When we arrived at the spot, he commenced playing upon a small pipe, and, after persevering for some time, out crawled a large Cobra from an ant-hill which I knew it occupied.
"On seeing the man it tried to escape, but he quickly caught it by the tail and kept swinging it round until we reached the bungalow. He then laid it upon the ground and made it raise and lower its head to the sound of his pipe.
"Before long, however, it bit him above the knee. He immediately bandaged the leg tightly above the wound, and applied a piece of porous stone, called a snake-stone, to extract the poison. He was in great pain for a few minutes, but afterwards it gradually subsided, the stone falling from the wound just before he was relieved.
"When he recovered he held up a cloth, at which the snake flew and hung by its fangs. While in this position the man passed his hand up its back, and having seized it tightly by the throat, he pulled out the fangs and gave them to me. He then squeezed out the poison, from the glands in the Serpent's mouth, upon a leaf. It was a clear, oily substance, which when rubbed with the hand produced a fine lather.
"The whole operation was carefully watched by me, and was also witnessed by several other persons."
How the serpent-charmers perform their feats is not very intelligible. That they handle the most venomous Serpents with perfect impunity is evident enough, and it is also clear that they are able to produce certain effects upon the Serpents by means of musical (or unmusical) sounds. But these two items are entirely distinct, and one does not depend upon the other.
In the first place, the handling of venomous snakes has been performed by ordinary men without the least recourse to any arts except that of acquaintance with the habits of Serpents. The late Mr. Waterton, for example, would take up a rattlesnake in his bare hand without feeling the least uneasy as to the behaviour of his prisoner. He once took twenty-seven rattlesnakes out of a box, carried them into another room, put them into a large glass case, and afterwards replaced them in the box. He described to me the manner in which he did it, using my wrist as the representative of the Serpent.
The nature of all Serpents is rather peculiar, and is probably owing to the mode in which the blood circulates. They are extremely unwilling to move, except when urged by the wants of nature, and will lie coiled up for many hours together when not pressed by hunger. Consequently, when touched, their feeling is evidently like that of a drowsy man, who only tries to shake off the object which may rouse him, and composes himself afresh to sleep.
A quick and sudden movement would, however, alarm the reptile, which would strike in self-defence, and, sluggish as are its general movements, its stroke is delivered with such lightning rapidity that it would be sure to inflict its fatal wound before it was seized.
If, therefore, Mr. Waterton saw a Serpent which he desired to catch, he would creep very quietly up to it, and with a gentle, slow movement place his fingers round its neck just behind the head. If it happened to be coiled up in such a manner that he could not get at its neck, he had only to touch it gently until it moved sufficiently for his purpose.
When he had once placed his hand on the Serpent, it was in his power. He would then grasp it very lightly indeed, and raise it gently from the ground, trusting that the reptile would be more inclined to be carried quietly than to summon up sufficient energy to bite. Even if it had tried to use its fangs, it could not have done so as long as its captor's fingers were round its neck.
As a rule, a great amount of provocation is needed before a venomous Serpent will use its teeth. One of my friends, when a boy, caught a viper, mistaking it for a common snake. He tied it round his neck, coiled it on his wrist by way of a bracelet, and so took it home, playing many similar tricks with it as he went. After arrival in the house, he produced the viper for the amusement of his brothers and sisters, and, after repeating his performances, tried to tie the snake in a double knot. This, however, was enough to provoke the most pacific of creatures, and in consequence he received a bite on his finger.
The poison was not slow to take effect; first, the wound looked and felt like a nettle sting, then like a wasp sting, and in the course of a few minutes the whole finger was swollen. At this juncture his father, a medical man, fortunately arrived, and set the approved antidotes, ammonia, oil, and lunar caustic, to the wound, having previously made incisions about the punctured spot, and with paternal affection attempted to suck out the poison. In spite of these remedies a serious illness was the result of the bite, from which the boy did not recover for several weeks.
There is no doubt that the snake-charmers trust chiefly to this sluggish nature of the reptile, but they certainly go through some ceremonies by which they believe themselves to be rendered impervious to snake-bites. They will coil the cobra round their naked bodies, they will irritate the reptile until it is in a state of fury; they will even allow it to bite them, and yet be none the worse for the wound. Then, as if to show that the venomous teeth have not been abstracted, as is possibly supposed to be the case, they will make the cobra bite a fowl, which speedily dies from the effects of the poison.
Even if the fangs were extracted, the Serpents would lose little of their venomous power. These reptiles are furnished with a whole series of fangs in different stages of development, so that when the one in use is broken or shed in the course of nature, another comes forward and fills its place. There is now before me a row of four fangs, which I took from the right upper jawbone of a viper which I recently caught.
In her interesting "Letters from Egypt," Lady Duff-Gordon gives an amusing account of the manner in which she was formally initiated into the mysteries of snake-charming, and made ever afterwards impervious to the bite of venomous Serpents:—
"At Kóm Omboo, we met with a Rifáee darweesh with his basket of tame snakes. After a little talk, he proposed to initiate me: and so we sat down and held hands like people marrying. Omar [her attendant] sat behind me, and repeated the words as my 'wakeel.' Then the Rifáee twisted a cobra round our joined hands, and requested me to spit on it; he did the same, and I was pronounced safe and enveloped in snakes. My sailors groaned, and Omar shuddered as the snakes put out their tongues; the darweesh and I smiled at each other like Roman augurs."
She believed that the snakes were toothless; and perhaps on this occasion they may have been so. Extracting the teeth of the Serpent is an easy business in experienced hands, and is conducted in two ways. Those snake-charmers who are confident of their own powers merely grasp the reptile by the neck, force open its jaws with a piece of stick, and break off the fangs, which are but loosely attached to the jaw. Those who are not so sure of themselves irritate the snake, and offer it a piece of cloth, generally the corner of their mantle, to bite. The snake darts at it, and, as it seizes the garment, the man gives the cloth a sudden jerk, and so tears away the fangs.
Still, although some of the performers employ mutilated snakes, there is no doubt that others do not trouble themselves to remove the fangs of the Serpents, but handle with impunity the cobra or the cerastes with all its venomous apparatus in good order.
We now come to the second branch of the subject, namely, the influence of sound upon the cobra and other Serpents. The charmers are always provided with musical instruments, of which a sort of flute with a loud shrill sound is the one which is mostly used in the performances. Having ascertained, from slight marks which their practised eyes easily discover, that a Serpent is hidden in some crevice, the charmer plays upon his flute, and in a short time the snake is sure to make its appearance.
As soon as it is fairly out, the man seizes it by the end of the tail, and holds it up in the air at arm's length. In this position it is helpless, having no leverage, and merely wriggles about in fruitless struggles to escape. Having allowed it to exhaust its strength by its efforts, the man lowers it into a basket, where it is only too glad to find a refuge, and closes the lid. After a while, he raises the lid and begins to play the flute.
The Serpent tries to glide out of the basket, but, as soon as it does so, the lid is shut down again, and in a very short time the reptile finds that escape is impossible, and, as long as it hears the sound of the flute, only raises its head in the air, supporting itself on the lower portion of its tail, and continues to wave its head from side to side as long as it hears the sound of the music.
The rapidity with which a cobra learns this lesson is extraordinary, the charmers being as willing to show their mastery over newly-caught Serpents as over those which have been long in their possession.
The colour of the Cobra is in most cases a brownish olive. The most noted peculiarity is the expansion of the neck, popularly called the hood. This phenomenon is attributable not only to the skin and muscles, but to the skeleton. About twenty pairs of the ribs of the neck and fore part of the back are flat instead of curved, and increase gradually from the head to the eleventh or twelfth pair, from which they decrease until they are merged into the ordinary curved ribs of the body. When the snake is excited, it brings these ribs forward so as to spread the skin, and then displays the oval hood to best advantage.
In the Cobra di Capello the back of the hood is ornamented by two large eye-like spots, united by a curved black stripe, so formed that the whole mark bears a singular resemblance to a pair of spectacles.
The word shephiphon, which evidently signifies some species of snake, only occurs once in the Scriptures, but fortunately that single passage contains an allusion to the habits of the serpent which makes identification nearly certain. The passage in question occurs in Gen. xlix. 17, and forms part of the prophecy of Jacob respecting his children: "Dan shall be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse's heels, so that his rider shall fall backward."
Putting aside the deeper meaning of this prophecy, there is here an evident allusion to the habits of the Cerastes, or Horned Viper, a species of venomous serpent, which is plentiful in Northern Africa, and is found also in Palestine and Syria. It is a very conspicuous reptile, and is easily recognised by the two horn-like projections over the eyes. The name Cerastes, or horned, has been given to it on account of these projections.
This snake has a custom of lying half buried in the sand, awaiting the approach of some animal on which it can feed. Its usual diet consists of the jerboas and other small mammalia, and as they are exceedingly active, while the Cerastes is slow and sluggish, its only chance of obtaining food is to lie in wait. It will always take advantage of any small depression, such as the print of a camel's foot, and, as it finds many of these depressions in the line of the caravans, it is literally "a serpent by the way, an adder in the path."
According to the accounts of travellers, the Cerastes is much more irritable than the cobra, and is very apt to strike at any object which may disturb it. Therefore, whenever a horseman passes along the usual route, his steed is very likely to disturb a Cerastes lying in the path, and to be liable to the attack of the irritated reptile. Horses are instinctively aware of the presence of the snake, and mostly perceive it in time to avoid its stroke. Its small dimensions, the snake rarely exceeding two feet in length, enable it to conceal itself in a very small hollow, and its brownish-white colour, diversified with darker spots, causes it to harmonize so thoroughly with the loose sand in which it lies buried, that, even when it is pointed out, an unpractised eye does not readily perceive it.
Even the cobra is scarcely so dreaded as this little snake, whose bite is so deadly, and whose habits are such as to cause travellers considerable risk of being bitten.
The head of the Viper affords a very good example of the venomous apparatus of the poisonous serpents, and is well worthy of description. The poison fangs or teeth lie on the sides of the upper jaw, folded back, and almost undistinguishable until lifted with a needle. They are singularly fine and delicate, hardly larger than a lady's needle, and are covered almost to their tips with a muscular envelope, through which the points just peer.
The poison bags or glands, and the reservoir in which the venom is stored, are found at the back and sides of the head, and give to the venomous serpents that peculiar width of head which is so unfailing a characteristic.
On examining carefully the poison fangs, the structure by which the venom is injected into the wound will be easily understood. Under a magnifying glass they will be seen to be hollow, thus affording a passage for the poison.
When the creature draws back its head and opens its mouth to strike, the deadly fangs spring up with their points ready for action, and fully charged with their poisonous distillment.