One day about 15 years ago, I was up in Noel, Mo., working on a traditional Osage bow with my good friend, Jim Spears. Jim is one of the best bow makers in America and has no equal when it comes to making stone spear points and arrowheads using aboriginal tools and techniques.
Jim's phone rang and, as I listened to his end of the conversation, I realized he was talking to someone about a snake. Jim skins snakes and uses their skins to back his traditional bows. They make for a unique and beautiful addition to any bow and are also useful for camouflage. At that time, I had never skinned a snake before. I was just learning to make bows.
Finally, Jim said, "I'll tell you what, John, I'm really tied up right now, so I'll send someone else to pick it up," and ended the call.
"Well, Sam, that was John down in Gentry. His sister shot a large snake in her pond and he wanted to give it to me."
"That's nice," I said, "What kind of snake is it?"
"He wasn't sure, just that it's big. I'm going to let you have it. I don't have time to go down there and you live there so I'm giving it to you."
A feeling of panic came over me as Jim said this. I had never skinned a snake before and it seemed like the sort of thing I would want to learn firsthand from someone.
I told Jim as much, but he said, "Skinning a snake is easy. It won't take five minutes. All you have to do it cut off his head, take a pair of scissors and snip through his skin from head to the tail and just pull the skin off."
We kept on working on our respective bows until it got too cool to work outside and I headed back home. On my way, I stopped in at John's house to pick up that snake. I was still a little nervous about the whole deal, but thought I would give it a shot.
John came out to my car and we walked over to where this very large snake lay stretched out on the ground. I was surprised to see the size of the snake which John had measured. The snake wasmore than 15 feet long. Its head was over six inches long. I mean this thing looked like the kind of snake you see in a zoo. It weighed more than 30 pounds and could have easily killed a child. It appeared to be some sort of python or other exotic breed. It certainly wasn't native to Arkansas, or to America for that matter. I assume it was someone's pet that got too large or maybe it escaped from the Wilderness Safari. I really don't know.
We coiled this thing into a five gallon bucket and I put it in my trunk. I'm not generally nervous about snakes, but I have to say my imagination did work on me a little on the way home as I imagined this snake coming back to life, slithering up the back of my seat and wrapping itself around my neck as I was driving. I had to consciously think of other things so I didn't creep myself out.
When I got home, it was getting late and I had plans for the evening. Roy Koehn and I were planning to go down to my next-door neighbor's (Cam Klassen) place, to camp out for the night. Our wives were planning to be there for supper and then go home while we men slept out in the back of Roy's pickup truck. Cam has a picnic area down on Flint Creek just down the hill from my house.
I got Karen, my wife (now deceased), to hold the snake's tail while I cut off its head and tried to snip through the skin down to the tail. It's nice if your wife is willing to help you skin squirrels, but you know she really loves you if she will help you skin a snake. I will say that it wasn't her first choice, but she was a good trooper.
As I skinned the snake, I soon found it wasn't at all easy. The skin did not want to come off and I had to pull with all my might to get it to come loose. As I got down to the tail area, I received a painful prick to my finger and, looking closer, I saw what appeared to be a large, sharp claw sticking out of the snake's underside. I later read that they use this claw to help them grip their prey. It looked exactly like a cat's claw, only larger.
It took me a solid hour to get that snake skinned and, by then, it was time to meet Roy and Sharlene down at the creek. So I told Karen I would take the snake's carcass with us and dispose of it somewhere on the creek.
We loaded up our supplies and headed off to the campsite. Roy and Sharlene were already there. I took the bucket with the snake's carcass along the fence to the west to where I thought it wouldn't be a problem and dumped it on the ground and promptly forgot about it. That was on a Friday evening.
On Sunday, our neighbors Travis and Bonnie Pendergrass were taking a walk down on the creek when in the distance they saw a bunch of coyotes and crows fighting over something. Travis said the coyotes would jump into the mass of crows and then jump back out again. Moving closer they saw what appeared to be a long skeleton with hundreds of rib bones. They said it stunk to high heaven.
Cam and Jane were telling me about this and how bad the smell was down at the creek. I listened as they described how bad things were down there, all the while cringing to think of having to tell them it was all my fault. I told them what I had done and, while they were more than a little put out with me, we have laughed about it many times since. Jane has threatened to repay me many times.
Unfortunately for them, a few weeks later, I killed a large doe and dressed it myself. I thought I had properly taken care of the skin and viscera, but Cam's dogs found it and dragged it over to his shop. I couldn't resist giving Cam a hard time about it. The next time I saw him I said, "What's this I hear about your dogs stealing my deer skin? It's bad enough y'all stole my snake, but now you have to take my deerskin, too."
"Well, you can certainly have it back if you want it," he said.
"No, no, you can keep it. I kept the part of the deer that I wanted. You can keep the deer skin and the snake too, for that matter."
We had a good laugh and, as usual, parted as friends.
Sam Byrnes is a Gentry-area resident and weekly contributor to the Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 12/30/2015