Snake Stories

Years ago, many were the tales told around the campfires and cabin fires.

Generally they would get around to snake stories.

One might hear the one about the neighbor's dog dying from the bite of a copperhead snake after its head had been chopped off, or about the snake whose feet came outside of its body when it was thrown into a brush pile fire.

Someone was certain to bring up the tale of a milk snake milking their cow while she was in the field. Others would tell about the big snake that swelled up its body so big that it could not be pulled out of its den by horse and rope.

Another would insist that snakes go blind and will not bite during dog days, and if you burn your old shoes in a dutch oven, snakes would keep away from your house.

Many old time hunters were certain to tell the story that they actually saw a deer kill a snake by stamping and jumping upon it until it was a bloody mass.

Mountaineers insist their hogs will kill rattlesnakes and eat them. And also tell how they saw a snake mesmerize its victim by swaying its head from side to side before striking.

There were tales of seeing a fight between a blacksnake and a rattlesnake. They were supposed to be bitter enemies. We recall one old residenter telling us years ago that while working in a stone quarry one winter day a heavy blast of dynamite exposed a large bundle of snakes in a rock crevice. There were rattlesnakes, copperhead and blacksnakes all entwined into one large ball. They were so many that they could not have been put in a bushel basket. This old man would laugh at the tale of these snakes being enemies.

We remember, too, the old neighbor lady who would tell us about the hoop snake. She described it as having a very sharp stinger or spike on the end of its tail. To move about quickly, it would take its tail in its mouth and roll like a wagon wheel. If one were to hit a human, death would soon take place. If the snake collided with a tree, the poison in the spike killed the tree.

Other old time snake stories would include the coach whip. The unusual thing about this reptile was the tail. It appeared that the tail was braided like a four-strand plait. When it caught its victim, it would kill it by repeated lashes from the tail. Some would tell how they located it in the woods by listening for the whip like report of its tail. This snake was not supposed to be poisonous. Rumors were that it killed cattle by wrapping itself around the animal's body and lashing it so hard that the animal died from exhaustion. Others would insist that the blows from the tail would tear your clothes and cut your flesh like a knife.

Many tales were told, too, about the joined snake. When one was hit with a shovel or hoe, the body would break into small pieces. Then, if you were to quietly walk a short distance away and watch, you would see the head section move slowly backward and hunt about until all parts were found, then rejoin itself and become a whole snake once more.

The bull snake was supposed to have resembled a rattlesnake in appearance. However, when agitated, it would blow or bellow like a bull.

Remember the old tale that if you killed a snake in the morning, the tail section would not die until the sun went down?