CHAPTER 7
THE DRAINPIPE PYTHON RESCUE AND SHOTGUN MAN
Snake-handling demonstrations remained a popular attraction on weekends and public holidays for the Hartebeespoort Dam Snake and Animal Park. Husbandry of the reptiles, however, by far absorbed most of my time. Work involving reptiles, especially venomous snakes, needs to be very precise, as there is little room for error. Keeping reptiles in captivity can be a fairly complicated affair, depending on the specimens being housed. There are some three thousand species and subspecies of snakes recorded around the world, and just as many lizard and frog species. Each species acts and responds differently, and it remains the task of the herpetologist to know all creatures as well as possible. Contrary to popular belief, reptiles are fragile creatures, and because they are “cold-blooded” (ectothermic), specific heating and humidity conditions are required. A cold reptile most often will not feed or digest well, while too high a temperature is likely to kill the animal. Temperatures need to be correct, so naturally reptiles from different regions of the world need different temperature and humidity considerations to ensure they not only survive, but thrive. Plus, if a successful breeding program is to be established, there is the seasonal factor to be considered as well, necessitating the appropriate temperature fluctuations.
Many reptiles, like the cobras and mambas, for example, lay eggs, as do turtles, crocodiles, and a variety of lizard species. Other species, like the rattlesnakes, give birth to live young. In the latter case, the female retains the eggs inside her body until the young are fully developed before giving birth. The young emerge enclosed in a thin, clear membranous sack from which they immediately break free. With the exceptions of the pythons and the king cobra, snakes generally do not assist with the incubation of their eggs, thus eggs produced in captivity are most often removed from the cage to be placed in an incubator for controlled hatching.
Proper housing is essential when keeping reptiles. Some need more space than others, and, depending on the species, it is also important to supply ground material and foliage that is as close as possible to that of their natural habitat. Some species must be supplied with large water bowls, while others need no water bowl at all. Some desert adders, for example, require only to be sprayed with a fine mist of water every couple of days, as they drink the moisture that collects on their bodies. If they are not sprayed, they will die of dehydration, even if a water bowl is present in their cage. Other species, such as the tropical anacondas, spend much of their lives submerged in water, so a large container of water would be essential in their living area.
Naturally, food is of utmost importance, with some reptiles’ needs being very specific. Many snakes survive on rats, mice, lizards, and frogs, while others are adapted to eat only specific foods. A good example of the latter category is the African egg-eating snake, which consumes nothing but eggs, its system being designed solely for this purpose. Protruding through the roof of its throat are a number of extended vertebrae against which the egg is forced, cracking the shell and allowing the contents to drain into the snake’s body, after which the shell is regurgitated. There are other snakes that eat only fish, while others eat only insects. There are also cannibalistic snakes that prey on their own kind (king snakes). Some species of snakes prefer insects or lizards when they are young, but change to a diet of rodents when mature. Large monitor lizards are known to eat just about anything available, including snakes, small mammals, eggs, birds, crabs, and even newborn crocodiles.
Technically speaking, the only two species of venomous lizards are the Gila monster and its close relative, the beaded lizard, of the American southwest and Mexico, as I mentioned in Chapter 5. These ungainly and sometimes brightly colored lizards have a number of grooved teeth in their bottom jaw along which venom is stimulated to flow by a chewing motion when clamped onto a victim. These teeth are used mainly to immobilize the small rodents and fledgling birds on which the lizards prey. Strangely, despite this venomous weaponry to disable living prey, Gila monsters and beaded lizards are most partial to eggs.
When feeding snakes in captivity, it is preferable for a number of reasons to feed them prey that is already dead. Dead mice and rats, for example, can be stored in a deep freeze in great numbers, thus disposing of the problem of their housing, feeding, and maintenance. A major drawback to using live rodents, especially rats, is the potential danger they pose to the snakes. This may seem ludicrous to those who may not be familiar with the keeping of snakes, but, improbable though it may seem, many a valuable specimen has fallen victim to the powerful incisors of a rodent.
Occasionally one comes across a snake that refuses to eat in captivity, under any circumstances, and here “trick feeding” may be the only answer—other than to release the animal back into the wild. The largest venomous snake in the world is the king cobra of Asia. These snakes can reach a length of six meters and are known to be cannibalistic, feeding solely on other snakes. Needless to say, this presents something of a problem under captive conditions. One such specimen housed at the Hartebeespoort Dam Snake and Animal Park, measuring four meters in length, refused to eat any of our local species other than mole snakes. Because we were not able to supply the number of mole snakes necessary to satisfy the appetite of such a sizeable reptile, we introduced “trick feeding.” This involved attaching together, head to tail, a number of more readily available larger species (collected over the years and stored in a deep freezer) with a single mole snake secured up front. The cobra would instantly grab the offered mole snake end and then proceed to swallow the entire attached string of defrosted serpents, none the wiser but all the more satisfied thereafter. There is much to know and learn where the successful keeping of reptiles is concerned.
The ability to handle venomous snakes comes only with patience, learning, and caution. Each specimen reacts differently to being handled, and, in captivity, the less a snake is handled the happier it is. A highly venomous snake can be kept successfully in captivity without ever being touched by hand, unless it has to be treated for some medical reason, in which case it is necessary to secure the head safely before proceeding.
The potential to receive a dangerous bite from a snake is not restricted solely to the venomous species. Larger specimens of non venomous snakes, endowed as they are with about a hundred needle-sharp teeth comprising six rows (four in the upper jaw and two in the lower jaw), could certainly inflict a nasty wound. Nonvenomous snakes are generally constrictors, using these rows of teeth to secure the prey animal with a firm bite before encircling it with body coils. The snake then applies pressure to suffocate the prey before swallowing it down whole.
The longest snake in the world is the reticulated python of Asia, which is reputed to reach a length of around nine meters. A serpent of this size would certainly have the strength to constrict an adult human being and possibly even be able to swallow them whole. However, few of the giant constrictors grow large enough to present any danger to humans, other than the prospect of a nasty bite should anyone be silly enough to fool with such a specimen. Besides the reticulated python, there is the green anaconda of South America, the Burmese python, and last on the list, the African rock python. Smallest of the group, the African rock python has been known to reach close to six meters long. This species has been protected for many years in Southern Africa, where it is held in high esteem by farmers because of its capacity to eliminate vast numbers of crop-destroying rodents. This species is particularly useful in the cane fields of Zululand, where the giant cane rats are known to wreak havoc on the yield.
On any given day, the park would receive a half-dozen or more calls to remove snakes from surrounding properties. The park advertised this as a free service so as to encourage the practice. This not only saved the caller in question from a possible snake-bite, should the species encountered prove to be venomous, but also offered the opportunity to rescue and relocate the snake. The Hartebeespoort Dam area being a rural region at the time, surrounded mostly by unc
ultivated African scrub bush, was a reptile haven, providing refuge for a wide variety of species. These included a multitude of harmless species, such as the common house snake, mole snakes, grass snakes, and bush snakes. Venomous species included the boomslang, black mamba, puff adder, and two species of cobras, the most prolific of these being the snouted cobra—or Egyptian cobra, as it was known at the time. All these species and more we encountered on a weekly basis, especially after a heavy rain, when frogs and small mammals were on the move, inciting snakes into a frenzy of activity as they instinctively sought out their prey. Snakes do not intentionally enter human abodes, but may be attracted to rodents and amphibians that reside on properties. This sometimes leads to human confrontation, at which time the snake park is called in to help. I have over the years removed a variety of snakes, venomous and nonvenomous, from bathrooms, kitchens, lounges, ceilings, cupboards, drains, garages, and even from motor vehicle engines.
An unusual confrontation with a snake I remember vividly occurred when the Jackson family returned home one day to find their recently acquired pet Wirehaired Fox Terrier missing. This brought about a thorough search of the property, which revealed no sign of the dog in question but did bring notice to something large coiled up in the stormwater drain directly in front of their rural property. Warning his wife and their two young sons to keep clear, Mr. Jackson went inside to call the snake park. I happened to be nearest the phone in the office at the time and took the call.
“Hello, snake park?” Mr. Jackson asked with a shakiness in his voice that reverberated in my ear. “I think there is a large snake stuck in my stormwater drain, close to the gate at the entrance to my property.” He hesitated, seemingly unsure of how to explain. “It’s dark in there, and I can’t be sure what it is, but it looks like a big snake . . . and our dog is missing.” Another insecure pause. “Can you possibly come have a look?”
The Jackson’s ten-acre plot was some twenty kilometers away, further than I would usually travel to remove a snake, but because Mr. Jackson considered the snake to be so large as to fill the opening of a storm-water drain, and in mentioning that their dog was missing, I suspected that Mr. Jackson was coming to a similar conclusion to that which was forming in my head. It would not be the first time that somebody’s pet had been taken by a large snake, which, under the circumstances, could only be a rock python. Feeding on a wide variety of warm-blooded animals, such as birds, rats, rabbits, and even small deer, a large enough African rock python would not differentiate between a wild animal and a domestic one but instead take full advantage of any opportunity, as that is how nature designed the snake.
Having noted directions to the property, I assured Mr. Jackson that I would arrive within the hour. Grabbing a couple of snake bags, a pair of snake tongs, and some leather gloves, I climbed into the park’s Nissan Cruiser and headed out onto the main road. Negotiating the final few kilometers of a rutted gravel stretch of road, I finally arrived at the gate of the Jackson property, where the whole family was gathered in nervous anticipation. As I exited the vehicle, I noted that the younger of the two boys was teary-eyed, possibly having been warned by his parents that there might be more than just a snake down the drain, as there was still no sign of the family pet.
“Thank you for coming out,” Mr. Jackson greeted me with a handshake. “We have had numerous snakes on the property before, but never anything so large as this.” He indicated the torch in his hand. “It’s dark down there but I can clearly see the skin pattern. It’s definitely a big snake.”
Mrs. Jackson, meanwhile, stood back, keeping the boys close to her side. She was calm enough but obviously not keen on allowing herself or her two sons to get too close. The younger of the two had now dried his tears, becoming more curious as to what I was about to do than concerned about the potential whereabouts of their pet dog. Bringing his mouth close to my ear, Mr. Jackson whispered the question that was obviously current on his mind. “Is it possible that the snake ate the dog?” He peered at me through a light-weight pair of glasses balanced precariously on his nose. “I have prepared my kids to realistically expect the worst, just in case. Seems too coincidental that the dog has disappeared same time as we discover the snake.” It was a statement more than a question. Taking the offered torch from Mr. Jackson’s hand, I responded cautiously. “There is the possibility . . . depending on the size of the snake.” I turned to look towards the storm-water drain at the side of the road. “We’ll know for sure if I can get the snake out.”
Heading over to the storm-water drain, I peered into the gloom. The pipe was about eighty centimeters in diameter, buried about a meter underground, with a square, concrete junction housing a narrow slot into which runoff water from the road could flow when it rained. Mr. Jackson stayed close to me, while his wife and kids looked on from their safe position a few meters back. Bending down, I switched on the torch and directed the beam into the pipe. The torch was a small two-cell model offering weak illumination of the interior but enough to confirm Mr. Jackson’s earlier conclusion. The dark, scaly skin glistened dully in the light, interspersed with brighter yellow chevrons spaced inches apart. The coils I could see were impressive, and as I pushed the light in further for a clearer look, for just a second I caught the reflection of an eye, while at the same time a long, slow, forceful hiss, enhanced by the hollow pipe, emanated from the drain. This was indeed a big snake, and well entrenched in a most difficult of places.
Standing back I considered my options; there was really only one . . . I had to go in there, secure the head of the snake, and gently coaxed it out. Judging by the thickness of the tightly wrapped coils, I estimated the python to be at least four meters long, maybe five. I also knew that the only way to get a grip on the snake’s head would be to entice a strike . . . not an inspiring revelation. Being wedged into a close, claustrophobic pipe, and trying to entice a large python to defend itself with its huge jaws, which sports a formidable array of centimeter-long teeth, was not anybody’s idea of fun. From past experience, I was familiar with the strength of a large African rock python. Wedged in the drainpipe as this one was, I knew this would be an almost impossible task. The only other option was to leave the snake to come out in its own time, but if indeed the snake had fed on the Jackson’s pet wire-haired terrier, it would be weeks before it emerged, after slowly digesting the meal. Fearing for the safety of the snake, I felt strongly that to remove and relocate it to a safer area was crucial. Having thus decided, I unwittingly set myself on a path of self-destruction.
Collecting the snake bags from the Cruiser, I passed them to Mr. Jackson. “Please hand these down to me once I have maneuvered myself into the drainpipe. I’m going to need them as a buffer.” Taking the bundle of bags from me, the look on his face reflected the obvious question . . . so I elaborated. “I plan to attract the python’s attention by waving the bags in its face in the hope of enticing a strike. If all goes well, the snake’s recurved teeth should then get firmly embedded in the bags, giving me a split second to grab for the neck. Once I’ve got a grip around the neck just behind the head, I can safely coax the rest of the body out of the drain.” Mr. Jackson looked at me in astonishment, his face reflecting disbelief and his jaw moving slightly from side to side as though weighing up whether I was joking or not.
In fact, it was a standard maneuver employed by herpetologists when working with large, aggressive, nonvenomous snakes. Enticing a strike towards a bag, the recurved teeth invariably get caught up in the soft material of the bag, temporarily immobilizing the head, and allowing time for the herpetologist to get a grip on the neck before the snake manages to free itself. The problem with the particular scenario I now found myself confronted with, was how to achieve this in the dark confines of an eighty-centimeter storm-water drainpipe. Even assuming I was able to secure the head safely, there remained the question of the four or five meters of attached muscular body that I knew would immediately move into defensive mode by attempting to coil around me, the agg
ressor. Getting tangled up in the coils of a python while stuffed into the confines of a storm-water drainpipe was a one-way ticket to one of the numerous herpetologist’s “worst nightmare” scenarios. Softly, I sighed to myself; there was no way around it, and projecting a more positive confidence for the benefit of the watching and expectant family than I actually felt, I began the uncomfortable process of squeezing my body through the opening slot and into the mouth of the drainpipe.
Upon my entry, a loud hiss immediately came from the darkness—a darkness that was now intensified as my body blocked out the last available light from the outside. I was basically entombed in a concrete pipe with four meters of powerful muscle supporting a head and mouth armed with six rows of needle-sharp teeth, ready to defend itself. Who said herpetologists don’t have fun? Quickly I extended my right arm back out the concrete slot, where Mr. Jackson was ready to hand me the cotton snake bags and the little torch. “Good luck,” he said, and then disappeared from view. I was on my own.
With cotton bags bundled up and dangling from my hand, I switched on the torch . . . and instantly it all went wrong. Ignoring all the rules, the giant snake took the advantage by striking out immediately, not randomly for the decoy bags, as was the accepted norm, but over the bags and straight for my face . . . with deadly accuracy! Aaaarrgghh!
Involuntarily I screamed my shock, dropping the bags and torch as I did so and grabbing desperately with both hands for the terrible mouth that was now attached across my face! In spite of my shocked panic, I knew above all things that I must get a secure grip on the snake’s head before the dozens of recurved teeth imbedded in my skin ripped my face off. The pain was instantaneous, sharp, and terrible!
Snakemaster Page 9
