Most Florida boys heeded their
mom’s warnings and avoided anything
to do with snakes. Those same boys
learned how to kill a snake and even
invented new ways to shoot, stomp,
and separate the dreaded head of the
serpent.
They learned how to identify the
dangerous snakes of Florida by the
observation of a “triangle-shaped
head,” which included the corn snake
and water snake (not so much). These
same boys learned in Cub Scouts,
“Red before yellow kill a fellow, red
before black friend of Jack.” Evidently
none of these boys were named “Jack,”
and remembering that poem in a
moment of self-induced terror was
impossible. The result was the immedi-
ate mangling of red, yellow, and black
colors of many non-venomous scarlet
kingsnakes (Lampropeltis t. elapsoides) and
scarlet snakes (Cemophora coccinea).
Although this behavior seemed to be
normal boy behavior of the time, there
were a few of us, like myself, that were
led in a different direction by a fascina-
tion with the same snake that mom’s
lecture warned us about.
In the summer of 1955, I was not
quite seven years old when I remember
my dad standing behind our house in
Azalea Park, a suburb of Orlando,
Florida. The Major was resplendent
standing there in his flight suit, his chis-
eled jaw flexing as he raised his govern-
ment issued .45… Bam! bam! bam! ...
and it was over for the 78-inch eastern
diamondback rattlesnake (Crotalus
adamanteus) that had neatly coiled into
concentric circles of yellow diamonds
that faded into a blur of black serpent.
I followed my dad as he slowly
approached his target, the air was filled
with the smell of gunpowder as he slid
the pistol back into its holster. We stood
at the edge of the ditch for a long time
before dad cringed and with a look of
disgust said, “Don’t go down there ...
probably more around.”
I stood there, outlasting the crowd of
neighbors that walked over to take a
peek, outlasting my friends and other
Air Force brats that came and went. I
watched as the old man measured the
lifeless snake with an old cloth tape
measure and said, “Seventy eight inch-
es...six and a half feet, that’s a big one.”
With that said, he pulled out a pocket
knife, cut off the snake’s rattle and
handed it to me. The blood on my
hand matched the color splashed over
the diamondback. I didn’t get it. I felt
sorry for the snake. What did he do to
deserve three bullets and why did the
old man cut off his rattle?
Every day for the next week I would
walk down to the ditch and stare at
what was left of this giant snake. It was-
n’t the first snake my dad had killed and
wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first
animal I remember dying in front of
me.
I suppose that day in 1955 was my
first snake story...a story of evil...but
was it? Or was it a story of fascinating
discovery, a story of violence and death
(it was), and finally a story that intro-
duced me to a feeling of passion, a feel-
ing that I feel every time my brain
attempts to decipher the complexity of
color and coil that eventually transfers
to snake.
I kept that snake’s rattle for years.
It’s been well over fifty years since I
felt those conflicting feelings, experi-
encing the death of an animal. That
same 10-year-old boy grew up to be an
avocational herpetologist with a pas-
sion for studying rattlesnakes. With that
same life-long study has come a side-
light curiosity and interest in why and
how snakes generate such an (in most
cases) irrational fear. In my mind it
seems there are very few land-based
creatures in the animal kingdom that
precipitate such an array of emotional
and physiological responses by
humans.
It is a fact that there are very few
animals capable of eliminating some-
thing as much as a hundred times its
own size. Why have some snakes
evolved to be capable of that feat?
There are various theories that address
this but the fact is, we don’t know. The
study of venoms and toxins is compli-
cated. With all of this being said, I’m
sure the fact that we understand the
capability of some venomous snakes to
deliver a serious and in some cases a
lethal bite makes the statement “irra-
tional” in need of correction to the
more appropriate word, “rational.”
Those of us who call West Texas
and more specifically The Trans-Pecos
home are also surrounded by a great
desert that exudes life. There are more
than 50 species of reptiles that share a
common ground with us. A few can be
considered dangerous under certain
circumstances. Rattlesnakes represent
most of the few snakes that should com-
mand respect for their ability to enven-
omate a threat to their existence (in
most cases human).
I like to say we are blessed with six
species of rattlesnakes in our Trans-
Pecos surroundings. The fact remains
that they are here and part of our sur-
roundings with each species represent-
ing a unique place and role in the envi-
ronment. These six very different
species of rattlesnakes are as follows:
western diamondback rattlesnake
(Crotalus atrox)
mojave rattlesnake (Crotalus scutulatus)
prairie rattlesnake (Crotalus v. viridis)
blacktail rattlesnake (Crotalus ornatus)
Chihuahuan Desert population,
formally (Crotalus m. molossus)
rock rattlesnake (Crotalus lepidus)
desert massasauga (Sistrurus c. edwardsii)
Although these six species are con-
sidered dangerous because of their abil-
ity to envenomate a threat, in most
cases if left alone they pose little if any
danger to humans. I don’t encourage
the killing of any snakes but in certain
cases understand the justifiable homi-
cide of my friends. If a rattlesnake is
found in the immediate vicinity of a
person’s home or animal shelters it
indeed can present a danger to humans
and animals, especially children. If you
are not equipped with the knowledge
and skill to safely relocate a venomous
snake that presents a direct threat, then
in those cases it probably is best to dis-
pose of that snake. With all of this being
said I certainly don’t advocate the
killing of any snake except for rare and
special circumstances. These animals
are an important part of our unique
environment here in the Trans-Pecos,
and are a part of the food chain that
keep wild animals in a normal and
essential balance critical to the stability
of nature.
The two species of rattlesnakes that
in my experience seem to cause the
most problems to humans in West
Texas are the western diamondback
rattlesnake and the mojave rattlesnake.
These two rather common species are
often confused for one another and
there seems to be an inordinate
amount of fear concentrated on the lat-
ter of the two. The mojave, or known
to many out here as the “mojave
green” or “green mojave” can in fact
deliver a very dangerous bite because
of a high concentration of neurotoxins
in its venom. This fact in itself does not
lessen the seriousness of a large western
diamondback bite. Although in differ-
ent proportions, all species of rat-
tlesnakes have venom that is a combi-
nation of neurotoxins, hemotoxins and
hemorrhagins.
Cenizo
The mojave and western diamond-
back are similar in appearance and are
often misidentified. Color alone is not a
good way to identify any snake, espe-
cially the mojave rattlesnake. Mojaves
are not always greenish in color and
although some populations are in fact
green, many are gray (light or dark),
almost black in some higher elevations
and even present with a yellowish col-
oration in some areas. Another prob-
lem in using a “green color” to identify
mojaves is the fact that our prairie rat-
tlesnakes and blacktail rattlesnakes are
often found having various shades of
green coloration in their pattern.
It’s important to know that a bite by
either species of rattlesnake should be
considered a medical emergency. It’s
equally important to understand that
there are very few human deaths by
snake bite in the United States, includ-
ing mojave rattlesnake bites.
If bitten by a rattlesnake, you should
go directly to your nearest hospital
emergency room. It can be helpful to
kill the snake that bit you and bring it to
the ER with you for identification. Do
not freely handle the dead snake.
The old rules of cutting and suction-
ing venom from a snake bite wound are
no longer valid. Neither are the prac-
tices of applying a tourniquet or icing
the snake bite area.
It’s interesting to know that in this
country far more humans are killed or
seriously injured by activity with horses
or dogs than snakes! “Give a snake a
break!”
Footnote: The more recent correct spelling of
the common name for “Mojave” Rattlesnake is
Mohave Rattlesnake. “Mohave” being taken
from the Native American term hamakhava,
rather than “Mojave” from The Mojave
Desert. “Mojave” was used in this article
because most people in West Texas know this
species as “Mojave” Rattlesnake.
Some of the article Snake Notes by
Craig Trumbower was taken from the
book More Than Snake Hunting by the
author.
For more information on Craig
Trumbower’s book More Than Snake
Hunting you may contact the author at
[email protected] or ECO publish-
ing at ecouniverse.com.
First Quarter 2014
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