I examined the artifact for a moment then threw out the number of fifteen dollars.
“Actually,” grinned June, “it is worth over ten thousand dollars.”
June explained further. “Legally, people are not allowed to collect artifacts. When they do they are invariably lost, destroyed, or become scientifically useless. In the United States, it has been illegal to remove artifacts without permission from public land since 1906. That 1906 law reads that, ‘To remove, excavate, injure, or destroy historic or prehistoric ruins or monuments is against the law. Any collector who finds an object on lands owned or controlled by the Government of the United States must have government permission to remove it.’ As a professional archeologist, I have that permission but that doesn’t mean I would remove artifacts. We own that land that you found the shards on but I still follow ethical practices.”
As usual, I was amazed at the logic that June used. The next day, after the sun came up, I collected the pot shards I had found and returned them to their sandy grave.
Falling in Love
I became more and more intrigued with Corey. He was a soft spoken young man with brilliant blue eyes and strawberry blond hair with streaks of lighter blond in it from being out in the hot sun of the Southwest. Corey accompanied me on my many explorations around the ranch and the areas around the ranch that were within walking distance, but we were always careful to be home by nightfall so we didn’t worry Uncle Ken and Aunt June.
One thing about living on a ranch is that everyone works hard and even more importantly, everyone eats well. I was now rapidly approaching my eighteenth birthday and getting prettier by the day. As Hidalgo one day said, “I had the rugged good looks of an all American outdoor girl but there was much more to consider.” I don’t think he was talking about my intellect.
When I was in high school back in Tennessee I had always been surrounded by boys, but they were just friends. Now there was something different about the way I felt about Corey. I was very careful to keep my feelings well hidden from Corey and the rest of the family, but as the summer wore on and we spent more and more time together, hiding my feelings grew harder and harder.
Corey was special in many ways, gentle yet strong, quiet yet outgoing and very smart. Not the kind of smart that is seen as arrogance, but rather the inner smart of someone who never had to brag about himself. Nobody ever had to tell him what to do; he always seemed to intuitively know what to do and did it. It was almost uncanny. Corey would always hand you the tool you needed before you asked for it. Often he would do whole jobs, such as putting new leathers on the windmill, without ever being asked. He was very young in years, but very mature in his work ethics. Every evening Corey and I both worked on our home schooling, spending many hours sharing information. I had begun to admire Corey more and more until one day I realized that certain urges were occurring.
Exploring the ranch and finding out about this area of New Mexico with him had been the most fun I had ever had. I loved just sitting and talking to him about anything. We could talk for hours about the smallest things, but right now we were both focused on the problem at hand. Real families do not lock themselves in their homes at night in fear of what is happening outside, particularly on a ranch a hundred miles away from a city.
It was only a matter of time until Corey and I started to make plans to sneak out at night, not to do what kids at our age normally do, but to discover what was killing the livestock and making the ranchers live in fear. Who was to stop us? Corey and I were, for all practical purposes, adults, who could do what we wanted to do. And so, in small steps, we began to explore the vast wastelands of the canyons that make up Serpiente.
Rattlesnake Research
Fall was coming, and with the chill in the air the problems of disappearing animals and dead livestock seemed to vanish. Each day more and more frost appeared on the brown grass that the cattle were eating and eventually small animals could be seen around the ranch.
Deciding to do some research, Corey and I took one of the ranch pickups and made the long drive into Albuquerque where we could quietly sit in the public library and take notes. From my reading I discovered a world of information about rattlesnakes.
In the American southwest there are many examples of animals and plants that display brilliant colors, warning possible predators to keep away. They are all, as a collective lot, poisonous, and they advertise their deadly business to avoid being eaten. Then again, there are a few who, despite their deadly abilities, choose to vanish from sight and disappear from scrutiny, to be invisible to all until that deadly moment when they choose to come out of hiding and strike their prey.
Rattlesnakes are the prime example of these, striking and injecting their prey with a hemotoxin that leads to a rapid cellular breakdown resulting in internal hemorrhaging. Some specialize in nerve poisons or neurotoxins that inter the body’s neural network and turn off vital organs. I was surprised to learn that most rattlesnakes contain a cocktail of toxins that do both. There are even rattlesnakes that deliver venom that causes nightmarish hallucinations with mystical and terrifying visions. Most victims of this rattlesnake’s bite report flashbacks years after the initial bite. Rattlesnakes are unique among New World pit vipers, having a series of horny interlocking joints at the end of the tail which make a sharp rattling sound when shaken. After each shedding of skin a new rattle is created. Surprisingly, the rattlesnake is deaf; it cannot hear its own warning sounds.
There are many varieties of rattlesnake. The most common is the prairie rattlesnake, comparatively small in size with the top of his head covered with plates. The banded rattlesnake is the common species found in the eastern United States, and is possibly the inspiration for monolithic structures built in rattlesnake motifs by the ancient Mound-builder culture. I began to think more about that last fact. As I read, the more I realized just how important snakes; particularly rattlesnakes were to ancient cultures, even to the tribes that occupied my home state of Tennessee. Snakes were on the minds of virtually all ancient cultures throughout both North and South America.
Rattlesnakes of one species or another can be found anywhere between southern Canada and Argentina. One species, known to science as Crotalus, is quite another creature altogether, with the top of its head covered with scales. The diamond back rattlesnake sometimes reaches six feet in length and is named for the diamond-shaped marks on its back. It inhabits many southern states, particularly in the American southwest, where it receives respect from all creatures. A mere 100 milligram injection of its venom will kill an adult human. A far less conspicuous rattlesnake, the Mojave rattler can kill an adult human with as little as 10 milligrams of venom.
Again, thinking back to Tennessee I thought of the only two snakes I had personally encountered; a slow moving non-poisonous snake encountered when around creeks that indeed looked very dangerous and black snakes. Black snakes were very aggressive and fast. I thought of a friend, Tater as everyone called him, who was picking up a bale of hay and just as he brought it up to chest level in order to load it into a truck he found himself face to face with an enraged snake. Several bites later he found himself sick but not deathly sick. He would never load hay again.
Rattlesnakes are all rather thick-bodied, large, triangular headed snakes of sluggish disposition; they are not inclined to bite unless disturbed or in pursuit of prey. They are cold-blooded and really would prefer to be secreted away, digesting a fat rat.
Rattlesnakes normally live around herding animals. It is thought by some biologists that the rattles evolved in order to keep the snake from being stepped on. They are one of the God’s most noble creatures, certainly more noble than many human beings.
Some humans will hurt you in a number of ways, without the slightest provocation or conscience, yet of all the animals in the world, only the rattlesnake will warn you before striking. Like the Texas flag with the motto, ‘Don’t Tread on Me,’ rattlesnakes are perfectly up-front with their intentions, a position many a
dmire and which few humans adhere to.
From my short experiences with snakes I knew that visitors or newcomers to the southwest will usually either kill any snake they encounter or run from it. Many of the locals kept cats around the house to keep snakes away; unfortunately for those who live in isolated country, the cats attract coyotes, which in turn attract coyote hunters with their traps, chemicals, and bounties. Coyote hunters attract the attention of environmentalists, who attract the attention of the news media, who attract the attention of lawyers and their accountants, and the debate rages.
Old timers, those wise folks with family roots firmly embedded in the desert country, have been taught from an early age to respect any snake. I learned that in the southwest, everything works in distinct cycles producing patterns in nature that tell the climatic history of the region. The story can be read in a piece of wood through the science of tree ring dating called dendrochronology. The history of climate can also be read in lake-bed sediment or in individual human remains where stories can be told by studying craniums or by the wear on the layers of teeth.
The librarian realized that Corey and I were doing some serious research and brought us a small stack of stories about rattlesnake encounters within New Mexico. One newspaper article addressed a law suit that was currently taking place in Albuquerque. Apparently, on the first day of the New Mexico State Fair, a small girl, who had been the first person to ride a bumper car at the carnival, got into the car expecting to have the time of her life. Instead it cost her life. Getting into the toy car was certainly not a problem for the child but as soon as another car smacked into it a rattlesnake that had been hiding in the nose of the car struck her several times. The child of course died well before she could be taken to the hospital. All of this was causing new regulations to be proposed. Inspections would be required of everything before the opening day of the fair.
From the Truth or Consequences Newspaper, a town named after a television show, I read one particularly sad story about an eight year old boy who was fishing out at Elephant Butte Reservoir. The family of the eight year old had set up a car camp along the shore and had returned to the camp after catching several small fish to prepare for dinner. The small boy had remained at the shore with fishing pole and a can of worms.
Unfortunately he ran out of fishing worms so he walked up and down the shore until he came to a pile of drift logs. Turning them over he found, what he thought was, more fishing worms. Pocketing a handful of them he returned to where he had been fishing. Unfortunately, the worms turned out to be baby rattlesnakes. The child collapsed after being struck many times on his hands and leg, dying before his parent could figure out what had happened.
In a scientific journal I was handed was an article that talked about the possibility that soon DNA and chemical studies would be able to pinpoint where any human remains came from because of the chemicals dissolved in groundwater which would act like fingerprints, identifying where the person’s drinking water came from. These chemicals are incorporated into the very bones of an individual. The patterns are always there and could be read like a book to anyone with the wisdom, equipment and education to interpret them.
The sediment from lake beds tells the story of dry years and wet years, of droughts and floods, of what the environment was like long ago. Wet years produce lots of grass, providing food for the rabbits and rodents, which in turn provide food for a large carnivore population such as rattlesnakes, coyotes, and hawks. Then there is a long drought with intense competition and die off until the next wet cycle begins.
Rattlesnakes, being cold-blooded, fare well in drought conditions, obtaining fluids from their prey. The most important service they render is in consuming rodents that carry the fleas that are the host which carries the plague. The reproductive voraciousness of rodents is amazing; without the help of snakes in preventing the spread of this disease, drastic action would be required. Drastic actions usually result in a negative ecological impact. God’s noble creature actually has, in the long run, saved infinitely more humans lives than he has ever taken.
Rattlesnakes have been here for a long time. The remains of a petrified rattlesnake from the Blackwater Draw Museum of Eastern New Mexico are on display, in mute testimony to its presence during Ice Age New Mexico. Of course, rattlesnakes were here long before the last Ice Age. Dinosaurs watched where they were stepping.
There are, as one might well imagine, some major disagreements in the field by biologists concerning rattlesnakes; take for example, color. The rattlesnakes along the red wall formation of the Grand Canyon are hematite red in color, allowing them to blend in with the natural background. In a different location, with rocks from another age such as the yellow Jurassic, Morrison formation, the same rattlesnakes have taken on the background color of yellow, making them difficult to see. The shadowy Bosque, the cottonwood forest along rivers, can produce yet another variation when the snake is somehow able to conceal itself on a shadowy, littered and brushy trail.
In terms of disposition, there are again wide degrees of disagreement on what a rattlesnake will or will not do. ‘If you put a rope around your camp at night, a rattlesnake won’t cross it,’ an old cowboy once patiently explained. Why wouldn’t it? Human smells have never seemed to bother them before. Why would a rope help? Of course, when camping out a cautious person might be inclined to put down a rope, just to be safe. But then, maybe it’s the smell of horses or cows on the rope that the snake avoids.
Snakes want to avoid animals that may accidentally step on them. They are attracted to warm-blooded prey, usually small critters such as field mice, rats and an occasional lizard. When hunting, they are very opportunistic and infinitely patient. In the southwest and in particular, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, the best known species of rattlesnake is Crotatus atrox. Many times in the distant past, volcanic eruptions produced a hematite-red ash, staining every grain of exposed sand. The ash from those early volcanoes produced a red layer of soil that can be traced all the way to the east coast of the United States. The red rattlesnake lives in those blood-red, hematite stained rocks that are exposed throughout the southwest. This creature retains a profound, universal impact on the American Indian’s metaphysical world. Investigations into aboriginal culture in the Southwest have discovered traces of the rattlesnake motif in decorative work from the earliest times.
Until recent times, the Hopi Indians of Arizona practiced snake dances that enthralled tourists in the Grand Canyon area. They still practice those dances, but now they are secreted away from the curious stares of the enthralled and photo-happy tourists. I couldn’t help but wonder what the fascination with rattlesnakes really was. Was there more to it than modern archeologist realize?
Ancient Dragons
June offered Penny an interesting insight into rattlesnakes. She related this story, “I was working at a site up by Aztec and noted to another worker there that there were many gopher snakes around. Then after a few days they suddenly all disappeared. Shortly thereafter, rattlesnakes started to be found; everywhere. While excavating the bottom of a Kiva I found several snake skeletons stretched out without heads. Normally when a snake skeleton is found, it is curled up. When we informed the local Indian helpers they wouldn’t come and look. The natives refused to enter and wouldn’t explain why; they simply got their stuff together and left the site. They never offered an explanation; making me think that there was much more to it than they were willing to say.
Around the year 1100 A.D. there seemed to be something very strange happening around the entire world that had to do with serpents. In the southwest, snake pictographs and petroglyphs appeared on rock surfaces all over the region. In Cahokia near what is now St. Louis the mound builders constructed huge monuments with a meandering snake eating an egg as the focal point. The problem is, the huge mound could only be seen from above, making it impossible for people to see it. Yet the megalithic mound was constructed with one thing in mind; the snake. The mystery is why was the snake
effigy so important to those people?
In South America entire cultures were evolving with flying snakes at the center of their culture. Even their pyramids had built in snakes that appeared along the stairways that appeared to move as the sun sets or rises, setting them in motion as the rock shadows appeared to move. In Meso-America the symbols were found everywhere. Even in China, a blossom of dragons appeared with wings that made them terrifying.
John Luna
I had chosen to go on long fall hikes around the ranch house venturing further and further up the sandstone canyon at the back of the pasture. This day I was watching the tiny creek that flowed out of the mysterious bowels of the sandstone canyon. The creek was swollen, flowing with tiny ripples in places. Usually disappearing into the sand, I knew it would flow far into the distance, perhaps flowing into the Rio Puerco and then later into the Rio Grande. The turbid water I was watching would, sooner or later, meander all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico, evaporate and eventually return in the form of new clouds to start the process all over again.
Suddenly I was confronted by a large Hispanic fellow atop a black horse. It was impossible not to stare at him. He seemed like someone out of a western movie with a rifle in a scabbard and a revolver in a holster hung low around his hips. Stopping his horse in front of me, he took his sombrero off bringing it across his chest until it settled low in his extended arm.
“Como estas,” he said with a grin that suddenly appeared under a large bushy mustache.
I had no idea what he was saying. I had not taken Spanish classes in high school before I left Tennessee and was now wishing I had. But the rider took sympathy with me and asked in perfect English, “How are you?”
The Family at Serpiente Page 7
