by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
CHARMING THE CROTALUS.
I was destined to witness still further proofs of the wonderfulcapabilities of my new acquaintance.
I felt the natural joy of one whose life has been, saved fromdestruction--singularly, almost miraculously saved. Like one who hasescaped from drowning, from the field of slaughter, from the very jawsof death. The reaction was delightful. I felt gratitude, too, for himwho had saved me. I could have embraced my sable companion, black andfierce as he was, like a brother.
We sat side by side upon the log, and chatted gaily;--gaily as men maywhose future is dark and unsettled. Alas! it was so with both of us.Mine had been dark for days past; and his--what was his, poor helot?
But even in the gloom of sadness the mind has its moments of joy.Nature has not allowed that grief may be continuous, and at intervalsthe spirit must soar above its sorrows. Such an interval was upon methen. Joy and gratitude were in my heart. I had grown fond of thisslave,--this runaway slave,--and was for the moment happy in hiscompanionship.
It was natural our conversation should be of snakes and snake-roots, andmany a strange fact he imparted to me relating to reptile life. Aherpetologist might have envied me the hour I spent upon that log in thecompany of Gabriel the Bambarra.
In the midst of our conversation my companion abruptly asked thequestion, whether I had killed the snake that had bitten me.
"No," I replied. "It escaped."
"'Scaped, mass'! whar did um go?"
"It took shelter in a hollow log,--the very one on which we are seated."
The eyes of the negro sparkled with delight.
"Dam!" exclaimed he, starting to his feet; "mass' say snake in dis yeerlog? Dam!" he repeated, "if do varmint yeer in dis log, Gabr'l soonfetch 'im out."
"What! you have no axe?"
"Dis nigga axe no want for dat."
"How, then, can you get at the snake? Do you intend to set fire to thelog?"
"Ho! fire no good. Dat log burn whole month. Fire no good: smoke whitemen see,--b'lieve 'im runaway,--den come de blood-dogs. Dis niggadaren't make no fire."
"How, then?"
"Wait a bit, mass' Edwad, you see. Dis nigga fetch de rattlesnake rightout ob 'im boots. Please, young mass', keep still; don't speak 'bove debreff: ole varmint, he hear ebbery word."
The black now talked in whispers, as he glided stealthily around thelog. I followed his directions, and remained perfectly "still,"watching every movement of my singular companion.
Some young reeds of the American bamboo (_Arundo gigantea_) were growingnear. A number of these he cut down with his knife; and then,sharpening their lower ends, stuck them into the ground, near the end ofthe log. He arranged the reeds in such a manner that they stood side byside, like the strings of a harp, only closer together. He next chose asmall sapling from the thicket, and trimmed it so that nothing remainedbut a straight wand with a forked end. With this in one hand, and apiece of split cane in the other, he placed himself flat along the log,in such a position that his face was directly over the entrance to thecavity. He was also close to the row of canes, so that with hisoutstretched hand he could conveniently reach them. His arrangementswere now completed, and the "charm" commenced.
Laying aside the forked sapling ready to his hand, he took the piece ofsplit reed, and drew it backward and forward across the row of uprightcanes. This produced a sound which was an exact imitation of the"skerr" of the rattlesnake; go like, that a person hearing it, withoutknowing what caused it, would undoubtedly have mistaken it for thelatter; so like, that the black knew the reptile itself would bedeceived by it! He did not, however, trust to this alone to allure hisvictim. Aided by an instrument which he had hastily constructed out ofthe lanceolate leaves of the cane, he at the same time imitated thescream and chatter of the red cardinal (_Loxia cardinalis_), just aswhen that bird is engaged in battle, either with a serpent, an opossum,or some other of its habitual enemies.
The sounds produced were exactly similar to those often heard in thedepths of the American forest, when the dread _crotalus_ plunders thenest of the Virginian nightingale.
The stratagem proved successful. In a few moments the lozenge-shapedhead of the reptile appeared outside the cavity. Its forking tongue wasprotruded at short intervals, and its small dark eyes glittered withrage. Its rattle could be heard, announcing its determination to takepart in the fray--which it supposed was going on outside.
It had glided out nearly the full length of its body, and seemed to havediscovered the deception, for it was turning round to retreat. But the_crotalus_ is one of the most sluggish of snakes; and, before it couldget back within the log, the forked sapling descended upon its neck, andpinned it fast to the ground!
Its body now writhed over the grass in helpless contortions--aformidable creature to behold. It was a snake of the largest size forits species, being nearly eight feet in length, and as thick as thewrist of the Bambarra himself. Even he was astonished at itsproportions; and assured me it was the largest of its kind he had everencountered.
I expected to see the black put an end to its struggles at once bykilling it; and I essayed to help him with my gun.
"No, mass'," cried he, in a tone of entreaty, "for luv ob de Ormighty!don't fire de gun. Mass' forget dat dis poor nigga am runaway."
I understood his meaning, and lowered the piece.
"B'side," continued he, "I'se got somethin' show mass' yet--he like seecurious thing--he like see de big snake trick?"
I replied in the affirmative.
"Well, den, please, mass', hold dis stick. I for something go. Jes nowberry curious plant I see--berry curious--berry scace dat plant. I seedit in de cane-brake. Catch 'old, mass', while I go get um."
I took hold of the sapling, and held it as desired, though not withoutsome apprehension of the hideous reptile that curled and writhed at myfeet. I had no need to fear, however. The fork was exactly across thesmall of the creature's neck, and it could not raise its head to strikeme. Large as it was, there was no danger from anything but its fangs;for the _crotalus_, unlike serpents of the genus _constrictor_,possesses but a very feeble power of compression.
Gabriel had gone off among the bushes, and in a few minutes I saw himreturning. He carried in his hand a plant which, as before, he hadpulled up by the roots. Like the former, it was a herbaceous plant, butof a very different appearance. The leaves of this one wereheart-shaped and acuminate, its stem sinuous, and its flowers of a darkpurple colour.
As the black approached, I saw that he was chewing some parts both ofthe leaves and root. What did he mean to do?
I was not left long in suspense. As soon as he had arrived upon theground, he stooped down, and spat a quantity of the juice over the headof the snake. Then, taking the sapling out of my hand, he plucked it upand flung it away.
To my dismay, the snake was now set free; and I lost no time inspringing backward, and mounting upon the log.
Not so my companion, who once more stooped down, caught hold of thehideous reptile, fearlessly raised it from the ground, and flung itaround his neck as coolly as if it had been a piece of rope!
The snake made no effort to bite him. Neither did it seem desirous ofescaping from his grasp. It appeared rather to be stupefied, andwithout the power of doing injury!
After playing with it for some moments, the Bambarra threw it back tothe ground. Even there it made no effort to escape!
The charmer now turned to me, and said, in a tone of triumph, "Now,mass' Edward, you shall hab rebenge. Look at dis!"
As he spoke he pressed his thumb against the fauces of the serpent,until its mouth stood wide open. I could plainly see its terrible fangsand poison glands. Then, holding its head close up to his lips, heinjected the dark saliva into its throat, and once more flung it to theground. Up to this time he had used no violence--nothing that wouldhave killed a creature so retentive of life as a snake; and I stillexpected to see the rept
ile make its escape. Not so, however. It madeno effort to move from the spot, but lay stretched out in looseirregular folds, without any perceptible motion beyond a slightquivering of the body. In less than two minutes after, this motionceased and the snake had all the appearance of being dead!
"It am dead, mass'," replied the black to my inquiring glance, "dead asJulium Caesar."
"And what is this plant, Gabriel?"
"Ah, dat is a great yerb, mass'; dat is a scace plant--a berry scaceplant. Eat some ob dat--no snake bite you, as you jes seed. Dat is deplant ob de _snake-charmer_."
The botanical knowledge of my sable companion went no farther. In afteryears, however, I was enabled to classify his "charm," which was noother than the _Aristolochia serpentaria_--a species closely allied tothe "bejuco de guaco," that alexipharmic rendered so celebrated by thepens of Mutis and Humboldt.
My companion now desired me to chew some of the roots; for though he hadevery confidence in the other remedy, he deemed it no harm to makeassurance doubly sure. He extolled the virtues of the new-found plant,and told me he should have administered it instead of the seneca root,but he had despaired of finding it--as it was of much more rareoccurrence in that part of the country.
I eagerly complied with his request, and swallowed some of the juice.Like the seneca root, it tasted hot and pungent, with something of theflavour of spirits of camphor. But the polygala is quite inodorous,while the guaco gives forth a strong aromatic smell, resemblingvalerian.
I had already experienced relief--this would have given it to me almostinstantaneously. In a very short time time the swelling completelysubsided; and had it not been for the binding around my wrist, I shouldhave forgotten that I had been wounded.