The Little Brown Snake

My canoe slid quietly through the swamp's waters. Bright green lily pads submerged themselves beneath its bow. As I passed a stand of black gums, a couple of red winged blackbirds seemed to be having a discussion over something. I am sure it was very important to them.

 I was trying, as best I could, to sneak up on a black bear. I had spotted it prowling along the bank of a nearby island here in the Okefenokee Swamp. With a little luck, I would be able to get a good photo of a foraging black bear as he ripped into an old rotted log looking for possible mice, honey, or some other delectable bites of food. He had already destroyed at least one old piece of long downed pine on the south end of the tiny island. Even now as I approached, I could hear him trashing up the small interior of the island. The tops of small trees and tall bushes waved back and forth marking his progress. He prowled through the length of the interior of the little strip of dry land. It was barely six inches above the level of the surrounding swamp waters.

As I silently approached the area, I decided to wait behind a few low hurrah bushes with their green leaves and red berries. I wondered if maybe at some distant time in the past some of Billy Bowleg’s Seminoles had lived on this particular island as they raided the nearby settlements of South Georgia. 

It was probably due to this type of day dreaming, that I didn’t notice the odd looking branch of the hurrah bushes as I eased the bow of my canoe into them to steady it from drifting. Had I actually been paying attention, I would easily have noticed that one of those branches was a little bit too fat and wrinkled here and there along its length. I would also have noticed that the bear I was sneaking up on was suddenly quiet.

Suddenly, a mouse exploded from out of the base of some grasses growing there just a few yards from where I was hidden in my hurrah bush nest! Unfortunately, this particular mouse was running for his life! Crashing out of the underbrush behind him followed the bear! And he was headed straight for me!

 Of course, this was a bit of a surprise! I immediately began to furiously shove my paddle against the base of the hurrah bushes attempting to get away from the desperate mouse and his hungry companion… and this was more than the sunning snake in the hurrah bush could stand. His desperate dive into the swamp’s waters was unfortunately interrupted by the bow of my canoe. Instead of getting safely away into the surrounding field of lily pads to watch the action, he was suddenly slithering desperately downhill toward the back of my canoe… and me!

Only after I had jumped out of the canoe and was standing waist deep in swamp water feeling my feet slowly sink into the miry bottom did it register on my very excited mind that the snake desperately attempting to leave the canoe and join me in the water was nothing but a simple banded water snake….not the poisonous water moccasin I had assumed him to be! My next realization was that the bear had come to a dead stop in the water and was looking across the fifteen or so yards between us with a quizzical look as if to say ”Where in the world did you come from?”

Then, as suddenly as it all happened, it was over. The snake found my life vest and climbing up onto it, he was able to get his upper body quickly over the canoe’s side and into the water. Away he quickly swam, disappearing into the multicolored covering of lily pads and water grasses. As I watched him go, I heard the bear give a snort. Looking up quickly, I saw him turn in a spray of water and lunge back up onto the little island. He crashed through the underbrush and disappeared. In what seemed only a second of passing time, I heard him explode out the other side of the little island and crash into the swamp water and lily pads. Within only a minute he had splashed his way across the watery prairie and was gone. As he retreated, I could mark his distant progress from the many egrets, herons, and song birds which rose into the sky clearly visible across the low shrubs of the island. Some complained loudly with angry squawking, while others simply rose up and then settled back down onto their perches seemingly little concerned that such a huge and deadly brute had just passed through their little area.

Suddenly, I remembered my camera. With a sinking realization, I lifted my arm to which it was strapped. I watched the water drain out of it as the quietness of the Okefenokee returned. The red winged blackbirds picked up their previously interrupted discussion over in the stand of black gums… and two yellow eyes and the gray colored snout and forehead of an alligator rose to the surface a few yards away. I felt the urge to clamber quickly back into my now snakeless canoe.

As the hot South Georgia sun beat down on me the alligator slowly sank down out of sight beneath the thick covering of lily pads. I looked at my camera. I began to wonder if it might be time to just head home and look for a cup of good hot coffee, and maybe think up a good story to tell my wife to explain why I needed to buy another camera. It would, of course, have to be a story that wouldn’t include me abandoning my canoe to a little brown snake. I was sure that somehow that just wouldn’t sound very macho.