BRAVE MEN PANIC IN FRIGHT when a rattlesnake sounds a warning rattle one step away from them. It’s a survival instinct. A teenager coming that close to a rattlesnake in the dark should be expected of nothing less. The Hill Country had already experienced some cold weather by Thanksgiving during the year of the reported story, but Texas rattlers often come out to hunt when the weather warms up a little. Unless there is more winter weather ahead for Texas, snakes could start to crawl soon. (Photo by John Jefferson)

by John Jefferson

One Thanksgiving Day, my son and I canoed across the creek to get to a deer blind up the hill.

We hunted until legal shooting hours ended at dusk and hiked back down to our canoe. It was a perfectly calm evening – a fitting end to an enjoyable Indian Summer afternoon of Hill Country hunting. Although we hadn’t seen a deer, it didn’t matter. We enjoyed hunting together.

Returning across the creek, I cautioned Johnny about not pulling our canoe up too far or it might roll when I started to dismount. Wasted words. Reaching the bank, Johnny (about age 13) got out to pull the canoe up a little onto the bank.

He still had the rifle in one hand. As soon as his foot reached the ground, a rattlesnake sounded off like someone wildly shaking a tambourine right in front of him, piercing the still evening silence!

He let out a scream and jumped back into the canoe, falling into my arms.

“Did he get you?” I stammered out, fearing the worst.

“I don’t think so,” he answered in a quivering voice. He hadn’t been hit but was scared half to death –shaking uncontrollably on a warm evening. Then, we realized he had dropped the rifle – possibly on top of the rattler — which continued rattling for maybe ten minutes. It sounded at times like there were two of them, but it wasn’t mating season. We couldn’t see the snake in the dark, but it sounded like it was only inches in front of the canoe. We wondered if the snake struck … and barely missed.

To make matters worse, we hadn’t brought a flashlight, figuring we’d be back to the cabin before dark. You never miss the water until the well runs dry, either.

As the moon began rising over the mountain, we could make out the rifle on the ground. I had removed the scarred military stock of the Swedish Army 6.5-millimeter Mauser rifle and replaced it with a customed stock that I finished with a glossy lacquer. It reflected just enough moonlight for us to see it.

With a canoe paddle, I was able to catch the sling and drag it around to the side of the canoe and retrieve it. We still couldn’t see the snake, but it started rattling violently again when I pulled the rifle back around the canoe.

When we heard the other hunters back up at the cabin, we’d count to three and holler, “HELP!” About the fourth time we hollered, they replied and yelled they were coming. It took them five minutes since they had to unlock a gate. When they drove up, they said they could hear the snake rattling and knew what the problem was.

In their headlights, Johnny yelled, “That’s MY snake! Don’t shoot!” Still shaking, he fired the rifle three times, hitting it with each shot. Dead snake! It measured four and a half feet of perforated length.

We were fortunate. Very fortunate. Indeed.

JJ