Catching The Snake

Catching The Snake
By Donald Jones
When I was a 12-year-old boy no one told me that it was not a good idea to make snake catching a hobby. Snakes fascinated me. The local woods were my playgrounds and of course there were snakes to be found.

I did not just catch snakes for pets, I collected them and put them in bottles of alcohol. In my bedroom there were many bottles of snakes that I had captured and preserved. Most all were small snakes, not more then 12 to 16 inches long. My goal was to capture a large snake about three feet long. A special large mouth jug sat in the corner of my bedroom awaiting the next victim.

There was a branch about a mile from our house, back in the woods. A small waterfall fed by a local wet weather spring filled a hole that was about two feet deep and ten feet in diameter. This was also the home of a large water snake. The snake could be seen some days sunning itself on a big rock.

With forked snake stick in hand, and an old feed sack to put the snake in, I started on my expedition. As I arrived at the water pool, the snake saw me and made a quick dive for the water. Racing to block its escape, I jammed my forked snake stick in its path, and aimed for the back of its neck. I missed. The snake was not too fond of the idea of this and doubled back toward me. This was an unexpected surprise. Not only did it turn around, but it was coming to meet me head on. Now this snake turned out to be more like four or five feet long. As it got closer, I realized it was much bigger then I first thought. It was about three or four inches in diameter. This snake was a formidable foe. This was not just a water snake but a Cottonmouth Moccasin. The bite, if it did not kill me would most certainly put me in the hospital. My heart rate speeded up when I realized that I was the object of the hunt and not the snake. Fear took over as the snake got closer. When it got within reach of my snake stick, I caught the snake under the belly and flung it with all my might, hurling it up over the falls. With that accomplished, I took off in a run up the embankment looking over my shoulders to see if the snake was following me. After about a quarter of a mile, I slowed down. A resolution had been forming in my mind as I sped away from those woods. Collecting snakes for a hobby was just not a good idea.

Story ID:	2298
Written by:	Donald L. Jones (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Family Memories
Writers Conference:	$500 2007 Family Memories Writing Project
Location:	McMinnville Tennessee USA
Year:	1957
Person:	Donald Jones