One of the early scenes in my Aussie thriller Lying In Wait involves the heroine, Andrea Vaughn, rescuing her best friend’s daughter who’s been trapped in an outhouse by a deadly brown snake. To catch and safely extract the snake Andy is forced to construct a device using only materials available on site. And since they’re in a national park her options are somewhat limited so I had to be a bit inventive in finding a solution for her.
Of course once I’d come up with an idea – using a branch and a pair of shoe laces - I had to test it to see if it would work before I wrote it into the story. Meaning I had to see if the model I created could actually catch a live snake. (The things writers do for authenticity.)
The device I created (pictured above) was made from a broomstick instead of a branch but is otherwise exactly what Andy had to work with. Essentially it’s a noose on a stick, similar to what a dog catcher uses for restraining aggressive animals.
The opportunity came to test my device when an obliging brown snake wandered past the front of our house. I felt reasonable safe standing on the edge of our veranda three feet above it, and the animal remained remarkably calm as I lowered the noose down toward its head. (It felt like fishing off the end of a jetty.)
What I hadn’t planned on was the inaccuracy of my control in wielding a stick that long. And the forgiving nature of the snake in response. Not once but twice in my attempts to snare it, I donged the brownie on the head. Yet even when I slipped the noose into place and tightened it gently around its neck the snake showed not the slightest aggression. And when I loosened the noose a moment later it simply went on about its business.
This experience was in stark contrast to one my husband had a few weeks later. He stepped from our house and started for our car parked a few meters from the back door. A brown snake basking in the sun a good twenty meters further up the driveway spotted him and immediately launched an aggressive attack.
My husband had done nothing to provoke it. The snake had a clear avenue of escape into the scrub at all times, yet it chose to turn and come toward the house. It came at my husband with such speed, he was forced to run around the car several times before making a dash back for the house.
Watching from the window, I managed to open the door for him and close it again straight after he scrambled inside. Which was just as well, as the snake followed him up onto the steps where it remained for several moments trying to gain entry into the house.
What caused these two snakes – both browns – to react is such extraordinarily different ways I can’t say with any authority. But I have a theory.
I’d been told by a snake expert that brown snakes in South Australia are highly aggressive and unpredictable. But at the time he told me this it just didn’t gel with the experience I’d personally had of brown snakes – both the time mentioned above and the time I caught one by hand in our chook yard.
I’ve since come to believe he was basing his assertions on eastern brown snakes – a regional variation of the species – and that our western browns are somewhat more placid and less excitable.
What would account for the difference in the basic nature in these two sub-species I still can’t say. I’m just grateful we don’t see many of the eastern type where we live