With the infliction of the stroke and expression of its venom, the creature usually attempts to reverse its fangs in the wound, thereby dragging through and lacerating the flesh; an ingenious bit of devilishness hardly to be expected from so low a form of organism; but its frequent neglect proves it by no means mechanical, and it frequently occurs that the animal bitten drags the reptile after it a short distance, or causes it to leave its fangs in the wound. Some serpents also, as the fer de lance, black mamba, and water moccasin, are apparently actuated by most vindictive motives, and coil themselves about the part bitten, clinging with leech-like tenacity and resisting all attempts at removal. Two gentlemen of San Antonio, Texas,2 who were bitten by rattlesnakes, subsequently asserted that after having inflicted all possible injury, the reptiles scampered away with unmistakable manifestations of pleasure. "Snakes," remarked one of the victims, "usually glide smoothly away with the entire body prone to the ground; but the fellow I encountered traveled off with an up and down wave-like motion, as if thrilled with delight, and then, getting under a large rock where he was safe from pursuit, he turned, and raising his head aloft waved it to and fro, as if saying. 'Don't you feel good now?' It would require but a brief stretch of the imagination to constitute that serpent a veritable descendant of the old Devil himself."

As the first blow commonly exhausts the receptacle of the duct, a second (the venom being more or less mingled and diluted by the salivary secretion) is comparatively less fatal in results; and each successive repetition correspondingly inoffensive until finally nothing but pure mucus is ejected. Nevertheless, when thoroughly aroused, the reptile is enabled to constantly hurl a secretion, since both rage and hunger swell the glands to enormous size, and stimulate to extraordinary activity - a fortuitous circumstance to which many an unfortunate is doubtless indebted for his life. The removal of a fang, however, affects its gland to a degree that it becomes almost inoperative, until such a time as a new tooth is grown, and again calls it into action, which is commonly but a few weeks at most; and a person purchasing a poisonous serpent under the supposition that it has been rendered innocuous, will do well to keep watch of its mouth lest he be some time taken unaware. It may be rendered permanently harmless, however, by first removing the fang, and then cauterizing the duct by means of a needle or wire, heated to redness; when for experimental purposes the gland may be stimulated, and the virus drawn off by means of a fine-pointed syringe.

In what the venom consists more than has already been described, we are not permitted to know. It dries under exposure to air in small scales, is soluble in water but not in alcohol, slightly reddens litmus paper, and long retains its noxious properties. It has no acrid or burning taste, and but little if any odor; the tongue pronounces it inoffensive, and the mucous surface of the alimentary track is proof against it, and it has been swallowed in considerable quantities without deleterious result - all the poison that could be extracted from a half dozen of the largest and most virile reptiles was powerless in any way to affect an unfledged bird when poured into its open beak. Chemistry is not only powerless to solve the enigma of its action, and the microscope to detect its presence, but pathology is at fault to explain the reason of its deadly effect; and all that we know is that when introduced even in most minute quantities into an open wound, the blood is dissolved, so to speak, and the stream of life paralyzed with an almost incredible rapidity.

Without test or antidote, terror has led to blind, fanatical empiricism, necessarily attended with no little injury in the search for specifics, and it may be reasonably asserted that no substance can be named so inert and worthless as not to have been recommended, or so disgusting as not to have been employed; nor is any practice too absurd to find favor and adherents even among the most enlightened of the medical profession, who have rung all the changes of the therapeutical gamut from serpentaria3 and boneset to guaco, cimicifugia, and Aristolochia India to curare, alum, chalk, and mercury to arsenic; and in the way of surgical dressings and appliances everything from poultices of human faeces,4 burying the part bitten in fresh earth,5 or thrusting the member or entire person into the entrails of living animals, to cupping, ligatures, escharotics, and the moxa.

Although the wounds of venomous serpents are frequently attended with fatal results, such are not necessarily invariable. There are times and seasons when all reptiles are sluggish and inactive, and when they inflict comparatively trifling injuries; and the poison is much less virulent at certain periods than others - during chilling weather for instance, or when exhausted by repeated bites in securing sustenance. Young and small serpents, too, are less virile than large and more aged specimens, and it has likewise been observed that death is more apt to follow when the poison is received at the beginning or during the continuance of the heated term.

The action of the venom is commonly so swift that its effects are manifested almost immediately after inoculation, being at once conveyed by the circulatory system to the great nervous centers of the body, resulting in rapid paralysis of such organs as are supplied with motive power from these sources; its physiological and toxicological realizations being more or less speedy accordingly as it is applied near or remote from these centers, or infused into the capillary or the venous circulation. Usually, too, an unfortunate experiences, perhaps instantaneously, an intense burning pain in the member lacerated, which is succeeded by vertigo, nausea, retching, fainting, coldness, and collapse; the part bitten swells, becomes discolored, or spotted over its surface with livid blotches, that may, ultimately, extend to the greater portion of the body, while the poison appears to effect a greater or less disorganization of the blood, not by coagulating its fibrine as Fontana surmised, but in dissolving, attenuating, and altering the form of its corpuscles, whose integrity is so essential to life, causing them to adhere to one another, and to the walls of the vessels by which they are conveyed; being no longer able to traverse the capillaries, oedema is produced, followed by the peculiar livid blush.