STRUGGLE WITH A PYTHON IN A ZOO.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2441, 22 December 1892, Page 4

STRUGGLE WITH A PYTHON IN A ZOO.

(New York Sun.) Superintendent Stephens, of the Cincinnati Zoo, daily takes his life in his hands while attending to his duties. He has been the victim of several mishaps, but his latest mishap came near being his last, A consignment of venomous snakes had been received from Texas, and for lack of other quarters it became necessary to place them in the cage in which are kept the boas and pythons. Before this could be done several more small trees had to be placed in the cage for the serpents to coil on. The boas and a 14ft python had not been fed for some time and were very active. Mr Stephens procured a box in which to place the creatures until he could prepare the cage for them. He then entered the cage, the box being left at the open door of the cage. He seized the snakes, and had succeeded in getting all in the box but the python. Before moving the python, Stephens stopped a moment to watch the snakes in the box, but was startled at a fierce hissing behind him. Glancing around, he saw the python coming towards him, its eyes flashing and its tongue darting. Stephens saw his danger instantly. There was no escape, and it was to be a fight. Swifter than the serpent’s motion Stephens grasped the monster just back of the neck with his right hand, the left clutching the reptile about 2ft further back, where the bulk of the python’s muscular power is located. He stared to thrust the writhing mass into the box. At the same instant the python threw the 12 loose feet of its body about the superintendent’s legs and began to squeeze with all its might, gradually but steadily moving the ever tightening coils higher and higher. There -were a number of spectators iu the building—a long, low structure in which the carnivora are kept —but ail were too greatly overcome by fear to render aid. Indeed, they could only get to the struggling man by removing the box of snakes at the entrance to the den. By this time hyenas, tigers, and leopards were in a state of frenzy. They bounded up and down in their cages with fiendish yells. They tore at the iron bars and beat the walls with awful fury. The lions, all but one, roared until the building shook, and frightened visitors fled panic stricken. The one lion that remained silent was Laura, a beast that Inis always shown an almost human-like devotion to Mr Stevens. She left her cubs in the rear, and standing on her hind feet, her paws against the railing, gazed fixedly at her friend, utterly heedless of the yelling devils about her. The uproar brought the attendants of the garden to the scene. They were horror-stricken at the sight. By this time the python had worked its folds up to Mr Stephens’ groin. The constriction was terrible. Circulation had been stopped in the lower limbs, and they were numb and trembling. The perspiration ran in streams from the struggling man’s face. His hands were so moist that the scaly thing twisted in them as easily as if loose. Suddenly the serpent seemed to feel its victory near. It twisted its horrid head and thrust its fiery tongue into Mr Stephens’ face. At the same time one of Mr Stephen’s hands became loosened, and the snake, with the speed of lightning, seized and began swallowing it. The victim was so nearly overcome, that for

a moment he stood tottering, and the hand had been swallowed without an effort to remove it. The entire hand up to the wrist had disappeared when Mr Stephens sought to withdraw it. The reptile’s mouth closed with a snap, sinking a fang into the bone at the base of the thumb and snapping the fang off. The pain roused Mr Stephens, and with an almost superhuman strength he caught the snake’s throat and began to squeeze with the energy of despair. Soon the python gasped for breath, and as it opened its mouth he jerked out his hand. By this time the attendants had secured the snakes in the box and entered the cage where they beat the python until it relaxed its coils, and Mr Stephen was taken out and cared for. The bite of python is not dangerous, and Mr Stephens was in no danger, but the pain from the bite was excruciating until the following day, when the fang was found and removed. In speaking of the matter Mr Stephens said : “ If I had not held on to its heaviest muscle, I have no doubt he would have strangled me. As long as I kept my grip there I felt confident. The fangs are inclined backwards, and it was impossible to free my hand without breaking them, though I did not know I had done so till the next day, when I found the fang in the wound.”