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Kate Jackson, Mean and lowly things. Snakes, science and survival in the Congo.
Harvard University Press. Cambridge, Massachusetts, and London, England, 2008. ISBN: 13-978-0-674-02974-3. $ 18,45 (Amazon).

■ When in 2005 Kate Jackson started her first herpetological expedition in Congo she had no idea there was a military coupe going on that was going to plunge the country into civil war. She was heading for the jungle, approximately 450 mile north of the capital Brazzaville. Military and rebels would not bother here there, other enemies would. One of these enemies is ignorance, the other is superstition. During a stop on the way to her final research destination in the jungle some villagers tell her they have seen a snake. Armed with a snake hook she hurries to the spot where the pygmies have gathered in a wide circle around the tree where the snake has hidden itself. When Jackson comes closer she recognized it as an innocent Lamphrohis. She put the snake hook away and with her bare hands she untangled the aggressive snake while the bystanders cry out in horror. She can not prevent being bitten. Not a big deal one would think. However, for the pygmies every snake is a poisonous one. They are scared to death of them. But they are even more scared of white witches…..
That does not prevent that two pygmy’s serve as here guides. They turn out to be the worst guides you can imagine; their cooking skills include serving rotten fish, they refuse to wash the under clothing of a woman, and at night when an hunt for nocturnal reptiles is scheduled, they refuse to leave their accommodation. They can also not be persuaded to wade through a swamp. This expedition is going to be a short one anyway because Kate injures her leg one night while on a solo trip. The resulting infection soon forces her to return to the civilized world. But she is determined to return.
However before we read how her other expeditions went, Jackson tells us how her fascination for the conserving side of herpetology started. In her case it was during a training period in the Herpetology Department of the Royal Ontario Museum in Canada while she was still in high school. The larger part of the collection was kept away from the public behind closed doors. The thousands of jars she saw there, filled with reptiles and amphibians collected over many years by field workers on exotic locations, made an indelible impression on her. This experience was followed by a training position at the Herpetology Department of the prestigious Smithsonian Institution.
Jackson’s fascination is clear but there comes a time during her studies when she wants a scientific but surely also an ethical explanation for the removal of animals from their natural habitat to study them in the laboratory. The stereotype answer: ‘to document biodiversity’ does not satisfy her. A discussion with her teachers and fellow student gives her more interesting things to think about. Her tutor argues that it is necessary to know which species exist to be able to protect them. ‘We can’t protect what we don’t know. We’re identifying the areas of highest biodiversity, figuring out which are the most important ones for us to protect’. Another scientist adds: ‘But what we’re really trying to do, as scientists, is to find out everything. Identifying the species is the very first step. Once we know what they are, we can begin to study what they do. If we understand everything about an ecosystem we will know which are the keystone species, (…) and we will be well placed to see that the balance needed to hold it all together is maintained (pg 11). Kate Jackson, just as the reader, got something to think about.

Because Jackson did go on an expedition to exotic places like Congo to search and conserve amphibians and reptiles, these arguments must have convinced her. However, I have my doubts. From what I read in the herpetological literature and learn from wild life documentaries, I have a strong feeling that even scientific arguments can not justify the plundering of these habitats. I recall a lecture by Twan Leenders some 15 years ago during a Snake Day. He spoke about his research in the rain forest of Costa Rica and he explained how delicate the balance in a particular area can be.

In the Costa Rican jungle and probably other rain forests as well, there are roughly three places where snakes occur: on the ground, in the bushes and lower regions of the trees and in the tops of the trees. There are diurnal and nocturnal snake species, each with its own food preference. There is a beautiful balance in such an area.

Because it was years ago that I attended Leenders’s lecture I cannot be 100% sure that I fully recollect his conclusion which basically was: even catching one or only a few specimen from a particular place can have disastrous consequences for its herpetofauna. So even scientific research can be an disturbing factor if it means extracting individuals from an (micro) ecosystem. Recently Furman demonstrated this for timbre rattlesnakes in Vermont and New York (Furman, 2007, 80), a bit older is the still impressive pleading of Harry Greene (Greene, 1997, especially chapter 6).

I wonder therefore what Jackson finally gained by catching dozens of snakes, frogs and toads of the same species near her two camp sites in Congo. While reading I actually even became a bit annoyed for instance when she describes catching large number of water snakes of the genus Grayia in her nets. What is the point in killing all these animals, conserving them and taking them back to the USA? I could not find the convincing argument in her book. By the way, I was surprised to read that new (sub)species are collected during fieldwork but are only ‘discovered’ during the laboratory work that follows, sometimes even years later (pg 173).

Jackson describes one particular case of the identification of a species of which I can‘t deny that I found it really interesting. During her second expedition she comes across a dead viper. A first quick look makes her think it is a Causus or maybe Atheris. Her two assistant are told to name it. Both conclude that it must be a Cerastes. When Jackson herself takes the identification key, she comes to the same conclusion. So, either the identification key is wrong or it must be a very special specimen. But Jackson never mentions it again in her book.

I found the explanation for catching reptiles from their environment not very satisfying. But that did not stop me from fully enjoying this magnificent book. I admire Jackson greatly. For her perseverance, her expertise, her talent to adapt and ability to endure. Her account of two and a half expeditions reads like a novel. It is very interesting to read what it takes to prepare for such expeditions. You can try to prepare yourself at home – in Jackson’s case home is Toronto, Canada - as good as possible, but once you get to your final destination, you meet unexpected surprises or realize you made the wrong choices back home. Communication is a constant problem. It already starts when you want to get in touch with the right local people. In our modern world we are so used to digital communication and mobile phones that it is difficult to imagine that we need to write letters or send out couriers for messages. But also just talking to people is not always easy in Congo. This goes double once you are in the jungle where people sometimes have never seen white people. Next to Lingala, French is a second language in Congo and although Jackson comes from a bilingual country (Canada speaks both English and French), initially her French is not good enough. In preparation for her second expedition she therefore decides to learn Lingala. This will turn out to be a wise thing. It even found her a husband.

But beside the poor means of communications there are other annoyances; the heat, the humidity, the termites, the wasps and the flies, the very poor food, bad hygiene, primitive working conditions, her being white, her being a woman, obstinate guides, jealous wives of guides, constant attention from villagers that disturb the camp, bureaucracy, permanent worries over money, the endless negotiations about the price of yet another snake that the villagers bring in, the constant wet clothes, the maggots and worms infected lumps under the skin, malaria, in all too much to mention. With bewilderment I read Jackson’s experiences.

Two things I found extra fascinating to read. I am especially interested in the cultural historic aspect of herpetology. From that point of view I studied Medieval bestiaria for years, in particular the chapter on serpents of Der naturen Bloeme (1270), the first laymen’s encyclopaedia of the Flemish phenomenon Jacob van Maerlant. In this encyclopaedia 35 snakes are described of which some have medieval names that are still in use today. Yet it is clear that these names do not refer to the snake we know now. The boa is such an example. The Antique and Medieval information on this snake does not fit with the characteristics of our modern boa. Earlier I have suggested that possibly our Python sebae could have been meant by the Antique boa (Van der Voort 1993, 56-57). It was interesting to read support for my suggestion: ‘ Boa is the name people here use for Python sebae, the African rock python. There are no true boas in Africa, but for some reason the name sticks.’

A second thing that I really liked in her book concerns the inevitable therapies against snake bites. During her first expedition Jackson does not carry on sera in her luggage. Simply because there aren’t any against the poisonous species in Congo. She also doesn’t have the means to keep them frozen. But she does get in contact with the alternative local medicines. One of them is the so-called black stone (Pierre noire). This stone should be capable of preventing poisoning by sucking the poison out of a wound. Jackson gets into a heated discussion on its effectiveness. When somebody claims that he saw with his own eyes how effective the stone is, Jackson replies that it probably cured the bite of a non-poisonous snake (pg 199). The stone indeed makes your tongue stick to it but it would be totally inadequate to suck poison out of a wound.

Already in ancient times people knew the snake stone or bezoar , a stone that had magnificent colours and salutarily characteristics. Such a stone had to be taken from the head of a living snake because otherwise it extraordinary powers would be lost. In Jacob van Maerlant one can read about the apsis that this serpent had such a stone in its head. Such a bezoar stone had to be pressed onto the bite immediately to prevent any harmful consequences. During his expeditions through the jungle Hans Egli always carried such a stone with him. Over a number of years one of his friends cured no less then 47 people from snake bites with such a stone. In two to three days the stone sucked the poison from the wound and then dropped off. After half day in milk it was ready for use again (Egli 1985, 22; more on the bezoar stone in Ameling 1978, 102; Henkin 1943; Howey 1955, 356 e.v.; Klauber 1997 II, 926 e.v.; Minton 1971, 107; Sinha 1979, 7). In the Boerhave Museum in Leiden (The Netherlands) such a stone is on display.

While on her second expedition Jackson gets in touch with yet another local remedy against snake bites. This time its a fluid of which one of the elderly from a village shares the secret ingredients with her. Out of politeness Jackson start to collect the necessary ingredients but force majeure prevents her from finishing is. She is not really sorry about it.

In the end it does go wrong (pg. 294 and beyond). While looking for snakes in heap of stones Jackson believes she recognizes the scalation and colours of a harmless snake. She grabs the animal at its tail and suddenly has a bush cobra in her hand. As she sees the mouth open she also feels the sting in her right thumb. She immediately associates her situation with that of Joe Slowinski, the unfortunate American herpetologist who got bitten by a krait in the middle of the Birmese jungle in 2001. His friends tried to keep him alive for 30 hours by mouth to mouth resuscitation waiting for help that would never arrive (James 2008). Fortunately Jackson does not have to rely in local antidotes because she brought polyvalent serum with her. It will save her life.

Jackson’s book contains 321 pages of fascinating literature. She made me realize that I belong to that one category of snake enthusiasts that reviewer Mark W. Moffet describes on the back cover of the book as ‘armchair adventurer’.

Translation from the Dutch: René van der Vlugt.

Literature
Ameling, A., De adder. Utrecht, 1978.
Egli, H., Das Schlangensymbol. Ge­schichte, Märchen, Mythos. Darm­stadt, 1985.
Jon Furman, Timber Rattlesnakes in Vermont & New York. Biology, History, and the Fate of an endangered species. University Press of New England. 2007.
Greene, H., Snakes. The evolution of mystery in nature. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London, 1997.
Henkin, L., ‘The carbuncle in the adder’s head’. In: Modern Language Notes, 1943, 34-39.
Howey, M. Oldfield, The encircled serpent. A study of serpent symbolism in all countries and ages. New York, 1955.
James, J., The Snake Charmer. A Life and Death in Pursuit of Knowledge. New York, 2008.
Klauber, L., Rattlesnakes. Their Habits, Life, Histories, and Influence on Mankind. 2 Vols. Berkely and Los Angeles, 1997.
Maerlant, Jacob van, Der naturen bloeme. Ed. Eelco Verwijs, Leiden, 1878. Ongewijzigde herdruk 1980.
Maerlant, Jacob van, Der naturen bloeme. In: Corpus van Middelnederlandse teksten (tot en met het jaar 1300). Uitgegeven door M. Gysseling m.m.v. en van woordindices voorzien door W. Pijnenburg. Reeks II: literaire handschriften, deel 2. ‘s-Gravenhage, 1981.
Minton, S.A en Minton, M.R., Venomous reptiles. Lon­don, 1971.
Sinha, B., Serpent Worship in Ancient India. New Delhi, 1979.
Voort, M. van der, Van serpenten met venine. Jacob van Maerlants boek over slangen hertaald en van herpetologisch commentaar voorzien. Hilversum, 1993.
Waal, M. de, Dieren in de volksgeneeskunst. Antwerpen, z.j.

First published in Litteratura Serpentium 29 (2009).