Bowhunters assume many risks while afield. We climb trees, wade swamps, and scrabble up mountainous terrain. We often tempt fate in the most miserable of conditions—from triple-digit early seasons in the Southeast to sub-zero late seasons in northern climes. And we stalk the same places where cougars, bears, and wolves live at the top of the food chain. Yet, despite these potential dangers, nothing seems to shatter even the nerviest among us as do snakes. So much has been said, written, and assumed in the outdoor community (often incorrectly) regarding snakes and their behavior that we invited several bowhunters with science-based résumés to share their collective experiences working and hunting in venomous snake habitat. Then, our own Dr. E. Donnall Thomas, Jr. wraps up the discussion with the medical means to survive the unlikely event of a snakebite.

David Tetzlaff, Co-Editor

Rattlesnakes Afield
By Jim Akenson

I was startled into extreme attention while sneaking to a vantage point to look for bighorns during a sheep study in the Frank Church RNR Wilderness. It was late April, and I was looking down on some cliffs for bighorn ewes preparing to lamb. At that moment, my mind and ears were focused on the rock bluff underfoot which had become alive with the distinctive humming sound of many rattlesnakes. I had stumbled onto a den site, and it was the time of year when rattlesnakes were preparing to move out and about. As I stood still and looked around, I could see parts of snakes in every nook and cranny in the cobbled-up rock pile. I had one tool that was helpful, and it was not my bow or a handgun! It was a sturdy five-foot-long birch walking stick. My disturbance had moved three snakes fully out of rock cracks. They looked and seemed a bit lethargic yet, so I was able to coax them aside with the stick as I gingerly tiptoed off the bluff and away from the den site. The year was 1988 and that solidified my habit of carrying a walking stick when travelling afoot in rattlesnake country.

The rattlesnakes of Idaho’s Salmon River mountains are prairie rattlesnakes. They occur in most western states, ranging from border to border on both sides of the Rockies. Prairies have the largest range of any of the rattlesnakes. By nature, they are not overly aggressive, certainly less so than cousins to the west and Ssouthwest. Other rattlesnakes are the Western and their sub-species, Great Basin, Northern Pacific, and Southern Pacific. Of these varieties, the Southern Pacific is the most aggressive and in California medical professionals refer to it as “the people biting snake.” The Southern Pacific are also the most venomous of the commonly encountered rattlers. Regardless of sub-species type, whenever you are bowhunting in snake country certain precautions and awareness need to be adhered to. Rattlesnakes do not need to be feared or even keep you from going to the places where your chosen game abounds.

Rattlesnakes are usually quick to alert you of their presence and that is how they keep from being stomped on by bigger mammals and humans. There are conditions to be aware of when bowhunting in snake country. I spend many hours a day glassing and that usually means finding a good rock to sit upon. I recall being on a bighorn sheep hunt and just before I plopped down to glass, I saw the distinctive skin pattern under the lip of my seat. I found a different perch and exclaimed, “Check rock prior to sitting!” Another time to be snake aware is when traveling trails that are overgrown with grass. Again, keep your walking stick active out in front of you when busting through vegetation.

Having lived several decades in perfect rattlesnake habitat, I’ve become aware of days when they are more apt to be active, and some of this corresponds to barometric pressure, warm (not hot) temperatures, and the heightened movement of rodents when pressure is dropping. Rattlesnakes really prefer to avoid the peak heat of the day when it is scorching hot. The most encounters I have had with snakes have been at the onset of electrical storms or overcast days that are more muggy than hot. Just keep your stick handy and wear sturdy boots.

How toxic is the venom? It seems variable depending on the quantity injected, the site of the bite, and reaction of the person or animal bitten. My first experience with snake bite occurred on the lower leg of one of our mules. Having two sets of bite marks it appeared the snake struck the mule twice, just a few inches above the hoof. This poor mule probably stepped on the snake while grazing, or possibly disturbed a breeding pair, given the double set of fang marks. The mule went on to spend several days standing in a large bucket of cold water with frequent doses of antibiotics and painkillers. The swelling at one point moved up the leg and onto her neck. However, with time, she healed up fine.

TBM Co-Editor David Tetzlaff admiring a Florida cottonmouth while bowhunting hogs in his home state.

As for me, I had a direct encounter with rattlesnake venom while helping a researcher get one ready for surgically implanting a radio for telemetry. We had the snake in a large basin and the procedure was to approach it with a four-foot-long, two-inch diameter, clear tube that (in theory) would see the escape hole and climb into the tube where it could then be handled. This was the second snake done in this manner and the researcher was still fine tuning his “snake charming” technique—and this snake was not very charmed by the method! I was holding the snake tongs at the ready as the snake sprang out and whacked the front side of the tube, sending a spray of venom onto my hand. Instinctively, I wiped the venom off on my pants. We went on to successfully get the snake in the tube, but while putting anesthesia on a cotton ball in the tube for the snake to breathe, I soon felt some burning on my hand and looked down to see a blister forming where the venom had been wiped off. Immediately, I washed the area thoroughly with soap and water and in several days the affected area had healed.

Rattlesnakes are something to be aware of—similar to yellow jacket and hornet nests. They shouldn’t be the factor of why you avoid bowhunting certain areas, you just need to take the right precautions such as looking at the ground more than usual and using a walking stick to move grass and shrubs in front of you. If you get struck by a snake do not panic or move quickly. Keep the wound cool and below the elevation of your heart and get medical attention as soon as possible. I’ve spent hundreds of days afield in rattlesnake country without being bitten but I have, and I do, bowhunt snake habitat cautiously.

Bowhunting Around Snakes
by Emile P. LeBlanc

I grew up in the outdoors of Louisiana and was exposed to snakes at a young age. My father would take my brothers and I crawfishing in the springtime, walking, and checking set nets in the swamps near where we lived. He carried a .22 caliber pistol exclusively for fending off snakes. He was like most people, then and now, with very little knowledge about snakes and lived by a philosophy of, “The only good snake is a dead snake!”
Fast forward to high school, I often tagged along with a parttime naturalist who went out at night hunting snakes to be sold to a local reptile farm. This is when I started learning about snakes, where to find them, how to identify them, and mostly how to handle them.

During my college years I collected different species of reptiles for a class collection and a grade. About this time, I started bowhunting seriously after I met another young bowhunter in a wildlife class. From then on, we hunted and fished as much as time permitted. This is where we started learning how to bowhunt as well as how to identify and interact with nature.

Louisiana has six species of venomous snakes found throughout the state. Depending where you frequent, you may encounter three or more different species of venomous snakes along with the myriad of non-venomous snakes that share the same habitat. In south Louisiana, the cottonmouth (water moccasin) is king, especially in areas where water is prevalent including swamp, marsh, lakes, ponds, bayous, and assorted drainage areas. They feed on fish, frogs, small turtles, crawfish, and even other snakes. A cottonmouth can be identified by its cat-like vertical pupils, rust-colored jawline, and overall short-tailed and stocky appearance. They typically grow to three or four feet in length, but the record is over six feet. A look inside their mouths will reveal small fangs behind the prominent ones that will grow out if one is broken or shed, but most folks would rather keep longer distances between themselves and any snake. A cottonmouth can be readily identified from a distance while swimming as they fill their lungs with air and float high on the water where you can see their entire body floating. Most other snakes swim with just their heads out of the water with only a noticeable wake behind. When approached, they will usually curl up, vibrate their tail in dry leaves making a noise similar to that of a rattlesnake and, as a warning, they open their mouths to expose the stark white inside. They will also spray a musky secretion that once you smell it, it’s a dead giveaway that there is a cottonmouth nearby. I’ve spent almost half my career working on remote WMAs along the Louisiana coastline. Your best chance to encounter any species of snake is during the early season while scouting or blood trailing a deer or hog. Being cold-blooded, snakes become less active in the winter but they may move about during warm spells.

Coral snake. Photo by Rhett Stanberry.

Snakes of all sorts are part of the total environment, and each has a specific niche in the habitat where they are found. I have killed cottonmouths on occasion, especially when I encounter them along the trail to my stand knowing that they will likely be there or close by on my way out after dark. All other snakes get a pass as they should.

Two other species of snakes that are encountered farther north are rattlesnakes and copperheads. The copperhead belongs to the same genus, Agkistrodon, as the cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus) but is a different species, contortrix. Copperheads will disappear literally in front of your eyes as their light tan and brown background blend in perfectly. They are as close to the ASAT Camo pattern as it gets.

Rattlesnakes are more prevalent in upland and hilly areas as you move away from the coast but all three can be encountered in transition areas. They prefer drier habitat that rats, mice, and rabbits prefer. Spring turkey hunting is a great time to encounter rattlesnakes along a trail or dirt road sunning themselves as it starts to warm up. On my first turkey hunt with my bowhunting buddy, we were making our way along a trail when we encountered a cottontail rabbit that was pretty lethargic and didn’t run off as we approached. Thinking that an owl may have hit it, we left it and continued down the trail only to be startled by the buzz of a very large rattlesnake following the scent trail of the rabbit. Yes, that rattlesnake died that morning as well as my first turkey!

Bowhunting in snake country can be a bit unnerving to some folks, but facts prove that snakebite cases are rare, and fatalities are even more rare. Most encounters with snakes that I have had scare the snake as much as it scared me. If left alone, snakes would rather slither off to parts unknown rather than escalate an encounter with a human. As with observing other wildlife, if you get the opportunity to watch a snake going about its daily business it can be most interesting.

Statistically, an encounter with a venomous snake is, for all practical purposes, not extremely common. Our family camp is located near the mouth of the Atchafalaya River. For safety’s sake, we keep a half-acre cleared around camp. There is a major pass in front of the camp and freshwater marsh behind it for miles. I know there are cottonmouths throughout that entire country. I have spent numerous days and weeks there over the past 40 years and have noted many different species of snakes. To date, I have seen a grand total of just two cottonmouths and they now grace the limbs of my granddaughter’s bow.

Snakes in the Central-Intermountain West
By Mark Nelson

As bowhunters, we can appreciate skillful predators. Of all the predatory species, snakes are among the best equipped. Silent in pursuit or patientlywaiting in ambush, they can detect miniscule vibrations of prey through bones in their lower jaws or track their quarry over almost any sunken terrain through the sense of smell by using their forked tongues. Some, like the prairie rattlesnake, locate their prey using heat-sensing pits located near their eyes. Targeted prey doesn’t realize life is at an end until they are injected with venom, or their breath is taken away through constriction. Despite these skills, or maybe because of them, many people revile snakes.

The mere sight of a snake renders the ophidiophobic nearly paralyzed as if they were gazing into the eyes of Medusa herself. Many of the venomous varieties of snakes are killed on sight without a thought of leaving them behind alive. I have taken my share over the years for backing my recurves with their beautiful skin, but for those whose skins I won’t be using, I leave alone—unless they are near my home or other areas of high human use. Unfortunately, population levels of snakes have sunk in certain areas of the West through over-harvest.

Cane break rattlesnake. Photo by Rhett Stanberry.

It may be easy to view snakes as enemies, but they serve an important role in our ecosystem. Small mammals, insects, amphibians, fish, and even other snakes make up their diet. A natural balance in the maze of the food web is better maintained with the assistance of these cold-blooded hunters. Rodent numbers in particular would increase exponentially if their food were plentiful and no predators were on the scene. Untold amounts of crops would be damaged at an expense to us all. Still, healthy respect is warranted when bowhunting and hiking in venomous snake country.

The central portion of the Intermountain West is home to the prairie rattlesnake, an adept and camouflaged hunter. These venomous pit vipers have a diamond-shaped head, their bodies average three feet in length with dark blotches running down to the tail. They are usually greenish gray in color, although they are greenish-yellow where I hunt. As the name implies, the snake sports rattles, and a segment of rattle is added behind the old one with each skin shedding. They are found on the plains and foothills, and they are especially fond of rock outcrops.

The sense of hearing and sight, combined with a heightened awareness, when in rattlesnake country is key to avoiding a pair of their fangs embedded in human flesh. Most rattlesnakes I encounter are detected when they rattle out that frightening, dry, buzzing warning. Sometimes, one is spotted before it rattles even though they blend in well with their surroundings. I try to remind myself when I’m in snake country to keep my eyes peeled, but it is easy to forget, and I’m thankful the prairie rattlesnake is fairly docile. It would rather slither away or give a warning sound than have a confrontation. The scary ones are those that don’t warn when approached too closely and that prefer standing their ground and fighting rather than crawling away.

Some believe that rattlesnakes are evolving into a species that don’t use their rattles as a warning system. Through years of people killing their noisy brothers and sisters who use those rattles and give their location away, the quieter snakes are overlooked and thus are not killed. While this makes sense, most snake experts disagree and attribute that to the realm of myth. Be it fantasy or reality, it does reveal that some snakes, for whatever reason, may not rattle as you get within their danger zone. Unfortunately, this removes a key sense we have to avoid rattlesnakes—our hearing. The results can be painful, costly, and even deadly.

A few years ago, my brother Terry was hiking in central Colorado where the plains meet the foothills in the midst of great prairie rattlesnake habitat. As he bushwhacked down a brushy, rock-strewn hillside, he felt a sharp pain in his right calf muscle, as if a wasp with ten-fold the power in its stinger struck him. Then he glimpsed the form of a large rattlesnake as it disappeared under nearby rabbitbrush. The snake gave no rattle as a warning, and it was camouflaged so well that he may have stepped on it. Terry knew the potentially lethal venom was about to course through his body. Fortunately, he had not gone too far on his day hike before the encounter. An ambulance took him to a hospital where he spent the next three days recovering. The pain was intense, and his leg swelled to twice its normal size. It took him 10 days to stand, but the synthetic anti-venom the doctors administered helped his recovery. Almost as shocking as the snake bite, or perhaps more so, was the hospital bill.

Ornate blacktail rattlesnake from Texas. Photo by Rhett Stanberry.

After the fog of pain cleared, Terry learned each of the anti-venom vials cost him a whopping $22,000…and they injected him with six vials! Coupled with the hospital stay, his total bill was over $163,000. He has no ill-effects today, and he managed to work out a deal with the hospital. As one can imagine, he now pays more attention to his surroundings when hiking.

The central portion of the Intermountain West has only two species of venomous snakes, the aforementioned prairie rattlesnake and its smaller cousin, the midget faded rattlesnake (a protected species in Wyoming). While they are rightly on our minds while afield, this area of the West hosts a large variety of non-venomous snakes, all adapted to their habitat in unique ways. The bull snake mimics the sight and sound of a rattlesnake when disturbed by coiling, hissing, and vibrating its rattle-less tail in brush or leaves. Garter snakes may travel more than 20 miles to reach their winter dens. Western hognose snakes coil and unwind on their backs, and even stick out their tongues in a flamboyant display of “dying” to fool predators. Theirs is a show that would embarrass any over-acting, low budget, Hollywood wannabe movie star. The list of snakes in this area goes on, some colorful, others plain, but all have their place. Some are best given a wide berth, but all deserve our admiration for their hunting abilities.

Medical Aspects of
Venomous Snake Bite
by E. Donnall Thomas Jr. M.D.

Let’s begin with some reassuring statistics. Of the thousands of venomous snakebites reported every year in the United States, fewer than five victims die. Around half of all venomous snake bites do not result in venom injection and are basically harmless. However, it can be difficult to distinguish “dry strikes” from the real thing in the field, and even non-lethal bites can cause serious illness and long-lasting tissue damage. All known or suspected venomous snake bites need prompt medical evaluation.

Snake venom falls into one of two categories depending on the species of the snake. The two varieties of venom cause somewhat different effects in the human body and may require different approaches to treatment.

A complex mixture of toxins responsible for the vast majority of snake envenomation in North America, Crotalid venom causes illness of varying degrees after bites from pit vipers including copperheads, cottonmouths, and over a dozen species of rattlesnake. While there is some variation by species (notably in bites from the Mojave rattlesnake, whose venom has more neurological effects than that from other crotalids), signs and symptoms are generally similar in most victims. Intense pain at the site of the bite, nausea, and general weakness are common early signs of envenomation. The main problems caused by severe bites are local tissue damage and abnormalities of the blood clotting mechanism, although full blown cardio-vascular collapse can occur in severe cases.

By far the greater cause of lethal snake bites around the world, Elapid venom is secreted by some of the world’s deadliest creatures, including cobras and mambas. These bites cause less local tissue damage but more neurological symptoms than pit viper bites. Fortunately, the coral snake, the only member of this family native to North America, is small and non-aggressive, and its range is limited to the South. Venomous coral snake bites are rare and fatalities almost unheard of. Consequently, I’ll ignore these snakes here and concentrate on rattlesnakes and their relatives. (If you’re headed to Australia or Africa during summer months, you should learn more about the snakes you may encounter, but don’t let this information scare you out of a hunting trip.)

Eastern diamondback rattlesnake. Photo by Rhett Stanberry.

In the field, an attempt to identify the snake may be helpful, but only if that can be done safely. Two distinct puncture marks and intense local pain at the bite site indicate envenomation. However, their absence doesn’t mean the bite was harmless. Unless you can be certain that the snake was harmless, leave the field and get medical attention at once.

First aid in the field is fairly simple. First, forget everything you were taught years ago. Tourniquets, ice, and incisions cause more harm than good. Venom extraction devices have become popular recently, but there is no evidence that they actually help, since crotalid venom binds almost immediately to tissue.

So, what can you do? The first step is to plan a prompt evacuation from the field to the nearest emergency room with as little exertion as possible by the victim. Loose splinting of the bitten part (over 90% of snake bites occur on an extremity) may be of benefit but should not delay evacuation. Remove any rings, watches, or other possible causes of constriction. Keep the wound lower than the heart. Try not to think about the cost of treating a severe envenomation. You can worry about that later.

Once you reach medical care, staff will perform a routine evaluation as they would for any serious trauma case. They will draw blood for laboratory tests, with specific attention to possible clotting abnormalities. Expect to have these tests repeated several times before discharge. In addition to routine monitoring of vital signs and establishing access for intravenous medications and fluids, staff will take serial measurements of the extremity above the bite to monitor for progressive swelling. Evaluating the severity of clotting abnormalities and the progression rate of local swelling are key factors in the decision to use antivenin.

The only truly effective treatment for venomous snakebite is antivenin, concentrated serum with antibodies that react with and neutralize venom components. Antivenins are made by immunizing horses or sheep with venom extracted by “milking” snakes and concentrating the antibodies for administration to patients. Manageable but serious allergic reactions to antivenin are not infrequent, which is why not everyone receives it unless they meet specific criteria of severity.

Copperhead. Photo by Rhett Stanberry.

Don’t expect a quick in and out hospital visit. It may be impossible to assess the severity of the bite at first, and victims who look and feel well on arrival can collapse hours later.

Other than various forms of allergic reaction, the biggest drawback to antivenin treatment is cost. Because of wide variation in both the amount of antivenin needed to treat a bite and its unit cost per vial, it’s impossible for me to estimate specific dollar amounts for a typical course of treatment. If you receive antivenin, it will almost certainly cost thousands of dollars, and possibly tens of thousands, because of all the factors that chronically inflate drug prices in our country. Since antivenin can be lifesaving and there are no effective alternatives, there’s not much choice other than to hope your health insurance treats you fairly.

Prevention is always better, and cheaper, than cure. Watch where you step and keep your eyes open whenever you’re hunting in a place during a season when encounters with venomous snakes are a possibility.