The Brown Snake

Wisdom dictates that you should be afraid of snakes, or at least respect them by giving them a wide birth. Even after holding one in Australia and others at the Meserani Snake Park, I remained a little blasé – even after seeing that photo of a python swallowing a crocodile! Mbise told me that one afternoon he had seen a very large python climbing the mango tree that stood above our potting hut, but I looked at him wide-eyed, half-believing. I was still not frightened at the thought of snakes nearby. Occasionally small, thin, black snakes appeared among our plant pots. If Mbise saw them, he would chop them to a thousand pieces, if I found them, I would flick them into a bag and release them in scrublands. They were cocky little buggers though, sitting up waving slightly, ready to strike. I never found out if they were actually poisonous, which I suppose was a risk because I used to water the nursery in bare feet.

One evening, well after dark one of the secondary school teachers asked me to take his house girl to the hospital because she had been bitten by a snake five hours earlier. I castigated him on two levels, a snake bite should be attended to immediately, and it was not so safe driving after dark because of bandits. The bite was thought to be from one of those small black snakes and the girl was feeling very ill by the time we arrived at the hospital! She turned out to be ok. But the school teacher was trying to avoid ‘unnecessarily’ forking out money for treatment to a girl in his personal employ!

I was visiting Ngarenanyuki with a fish-farm educator, sitting in the Landrover while the guy spoke to a farmer. I spotted some small kids playing beside a small mud house so to fill in time, I decided to have a chat to them. I had just taken half a dozen steps but was stalled by a sudden swish! A brown snake shot, straight as an arrow, across a four metre gap between the kids and me. I assumed snakes always ‘snake’ along! I wondered about the safety of those kids, but researched later that it was a non-venomous species. But I knew from then on that I could never outrun a snake!

We had refurbished a water scheme at Mwakeny village and had carried out a planting programme at the primary school, so we responded positively when the village government asked us to conduct an environmental programme, targeted at the village farmers. In the shade of a Jacaranda tree, the school kids (typically) set up a table and chairs for us. We had some comfort while the attendees were to sit on the ground, which again was typical! I had noticed that some farmers had burnt off the scrubby and weedy over burden before they cultivated in preparation to sowing their crops, so I wanted to use this opportunity to encourage grazing, rather than burning because it is better for the environment. This sage advice was to come from a guy who in his forestry career burnt two hundred hectares per year!

We performed the seminal before an audience of thirty odd men and a handful of women. I was in the middle of my anti-burning dissertation and they were all sagely nodding, the information going in one ear and out the other. I noticed a large brown snake making its way down the track behind the audience, approaching them.

‘There is a snake approaching from behind you.’ I said casually, so as not to create alarm.

But it did!

First thing was that Mags had bounded to the top of the table! The women in the group scattered and the men with fimbos - traditional walking sticks - attacked the snake!

‘Kill it, Kill it!’ shouted Loti my co-worker, whipping up enthusiasm.

‘It’s not venomous!’ I hollered, but nobody listened to me, I was sure it was the same species as the one I identified at Ngarenanyuki.

‘It is not safe with the school so close.’ The chairman said to nobody but maybe he had heard me!

None of those fimbos had actually hit the snake because we all saw it slither into the security of a small patch of nearby scrub and long grass. So what did the men do? They set fire to the scrub and grass! Out shot the snake and it was unceremoniously clubbed to death! Someone proudly held up the shattered body of a once beautiful piece of nature’s work that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

My body language must have shown my feelings because the village chairman gave me a weak smile! It was pointless carrying on with my anti-burning dissertation because everyone was fizzing with excitement!

It certainly pays to be wary of snakes, the father of an old friend of mine was spat at by a spitting cobra! I’m told the spit on human skin is harmless, but he copped in the face and they say the venom can cause permanent blindness! Anyway, the old man was fortunate, he received rapid treatment and it seemed the full force of the venom didn’t get into his eyes. However he had impaired sight for a few days.

I still see the beauty of snakes, but now I’m really cautious.