‘Territoriality’ and ‘Hibernation’

Greetings fellow snake lovers. I hope you’ll agree when I say that we (I) have 2 interesting subjects to ponder this time. Although I’ve been asked a number of times by friends and interested parties about the possibility of either happening in our snake world, I’d guess that perhaps the bulk of us barely bother to think further than merely accepting the terminology. We’ve touched on both subjects in previous articles, but I’ll go into more detail, and dress them up differently this time, hopefully arousing your interest. My comments that follow define what I assume to be the case, based on my observations over the years, and not necessarily the scientifically researched actuality – if there’s a difference. I’ll leave that differentiation up to the reader.

Territoriality
(establishing and defending a defined area.)

In the beginning

We know that nature doesn’t play games or suffer fools lightly, so as freshly hatched snakes emerge from the shell or the cloaca, they soon find out that they are on their own.

Releasing a captive born (Brown House Snake) hatchling into the wild.

Freshly hatched Night Adder. Off into the big green yonder.

I think that scientists are still pondering the reason for the female python to keep her new-borns at her side for an extended period post-birth, but with regard to the rest of our 160 odd species, they seem to be on their own, and must make haste to find a new home before they become a must-have for just about anything else around them. They can, almost immediately, either get needlessly killed out of fear or captured and sold (by humans), get seen as a food windfall by all manner of creatures, ranging from beetles to birds, cats to coyotes (wild dog, jackal, civet), fish to frogs and interestingly, even by members of their own clan. How disconcerting is that, the thought that Uncle Slim might consider you to be a tasty morsel as you make your way out of the shell? An interesting welcome indeed.

I would imagine from the hatchling’s point of view, that the priority at this point would be to hide somewhere as soon as possible. Thereafter, it could start to ponder a way forward whilst strengthening up and living off the retained nutrients within its body, before shedding its first skin as a precursor to moving on out into the new world.

Live born Puff Adder. Mum’s gone, now what (??)

At this stage, food and shelter would be the priorities, and these would come through good fortune along with some good planning by the mother. It’s unlikely that the mother would deliberately choose to deliver her progeny (egg bound or live-born) into an unprotected and barren environment in which they could not survive, and we should also marvel at the fact that in the wild, nature knowingly puts many of its new-born creatures out into a hostile world, readily equipped with the ability to understand the need for sustenance and shelter, and how to find both.

Raptors such as Long Crested Eagles ensure that snakes don’t advertise their presence

Water snakes top the Hamerkop’s must have list

Most of our snakes seem to be born in the summer months, making sense bearing in mind the greater availability of food during that period, and this would explain the seldom seen mating rituals of many of our species, that take place in the late winter months, timed to bring forth the progeny some 8 or 9 weeks later, at the time of food abundance, which would be well into spring.

It might be the ‘festivities’ connected to these mating rituals that have led some of us who’ve been privileged to witness them, to assume that this is in fact ‘territorialism’ being played out. However, from what we’ve learnt over the years, it’s more a case of male dominance in the presence of a maiden who has summoned suitors from all over the region with her pheromonal charms, to showcase their strengths – those which said maiden requires for her progeny in furtherance of the species. When the responding males meet up, there will be some arm-wrestling and even a bit of biting amongst the Mole snakes (not a Kloof resident) in order to determine who wins the hand of the maiden. Nobody wants a wimp for a suitor, so the display of strength, although it’s a guy thing, has significance for the onlooker, no doubt including the scheming wench who started all of this. When it’s all over bar the shouting which could be some time later, the winner would take all.

Arm wrestling puffies out to impress the nearby female.

Muscle flexing amongst competing male puff adder suitors.

Finding a home

Once it’s decided to move on and find a more permanent home-base, it would be unlikely that a juvenile snake would hunker down after a brief exploratory tour of its new world, to start defending its first anthill as if that were the end game. As we said earlier, in order to stay alive, food and shelter were the priorities, and as snakes can’t afford to go on long energy-sapping searches for food every time they need a meal, they’d be looking for areas with a suitably established abundance of their preferred diet.

This ideal habitat suited about 6 species. Abundant shelter and food, no territoriality seen.

Next time you’re privileged to be on a bush walk, not necessarily a three day drive away – try your garden for example – have a look around you at the possible food sources for snakes. Some of the dietary preferences of different species could include such items as rodents, birds, lizards, slugs and snails, centipedes, frogs, fish, other snakes and more. This venture into the world of the smaller creatures in the wild will require some practice, it’s not only snakes that hide when they see movement.

Camouflaged House Snake

Don’t ignore the fact that at well over a metre in height above the ground, humans have a much easier task than snakes when it comes to checking out the surroundings.

This is where our specific species distribution patterns would have been formed and built up over a long period of time, with the prospective new resident taking into consideration, apart from the food availability, such determinants as altitude, climate, terrain and vegetation within those parameters. The arrival of man on the continent would undoubtedly have led to additional evolutionary changes for many species, not only the snakes, but including other floral and faunal players on the board, each of whom is in one way or another, interdependent. This will have led to ever-changing habitat and habit cycles to which those players had to adapt – or die.

I’ve mentioned it previously, but a bite-sized example of adaptation to changing circumstances, would be that which we see taking place on a regular basis, when ‘developments’ crop up all over the place. Shopping centres and retirement villages would be good examples, where massive changes take place in a very short (in terms of the history of the creature or plant effected) space of time. In the beginning, the animals and plants that were living there prior to the disruptions, had to adopt and adapt to what they had originally found in their new lives, but in their man-imposed new environment, they had little choice but to either adapt again, move on, or perish.

Is there a ‘territorial imperative’?

Based on the previous scenario, unless we’re living on the 22nd floor, mid-city on an island, those of us who are awake would constantly be aware of these adaptations taking place around us. You’ll get my drift when somebody suddenly stops as they see, for their first time, their favourite tree trunk full of borer holes, and blurts out – “where did these things suddenly come from?” It might be sudden to the casual observer, but there certainly aren’t too many ‘casual observers’ left in the wild – they’ll have become part of the passing parade, done and gone.

Any arboreal snake – e.g. this green Mamba (although not a Kloof resident) is fully aware of the need for camouflage.

Camouflage is not a fashion statement.

Taking this into consideration, and as there is constant movement and adaptation for numerous reasons, there must be few animals that would want to start from scratch every time, by getting to know their new neighbours and fighting to secure a home range all over again. Very few I’d guess, and our snakes, or might I guess, all snakes, wherever in the world they live, would identify with that thinking. They’d simply get on with the task at hand as should we all, with ‘survival’ being the watchword. We can still have fun though.

There’d be those of you who’d rightly ask, “what about the 4 metre plus python we’ve got on the farm, it’s been there for 20 years?”, or perhaps the well-known (and respected) 3.5 metre black mamba that’s “lived in the cliff-face alongside the river ever since I was a kid?” Quite right, what about them, are they not territorial by nature?

It’s unlikely, in terms of the definition again. They are where we find them, initially for their main considerations, food and shelter, and perhaps also because some of the bigger snakes – mambas, python, large adders for example – will grow to proportions mitigating against having to regularly drag all that bulk and/or length around a new park in search of cheeky interlopers.

Python. This is why the bigger snakes have to localise.

Black Mamba – too big and bulky to effectively guard territory.

It’s neither physically viable, nor sensible. In my years of working with them, I’ve never become aware of any specifically territorial behaviour by snakes, and I mean all species, not just the big ones. Neither the Night Adder living in the Loffelstein wall, or the Spotted Bush Snake that rides in the driveway gate from pillar to post every day could be considered to be a ‘territorial’ creature. They’re opportunists, and will move on if the developers arrive, or the food quality or accommodation slips below the Michelin standard. Bear in mind, I’m not talking a migratory move, merely a move to a better location within reason, that might even require a minor dietary tweak to suit prey availability.

I firmly believe that snakes have a set of rules to which they adhere – hence their continued presence on the planet – and based on what we’re learning about them all the time, if we had that list, we’d probably be living more rewarding lives.

Hibernation
(for some animals in the world; to cease from activity in winter months.*)

I’ve underlined the key words in the definition of the term, to try and differentiate between the behaviour displayed by what could be termed the ‘true hibernators’, nearly all from the Northern hemisphere, and that displayed by our Southern African snakes.

Southern African snakes can be defined as ‘ectotherms’ (maintaining body temperature within fairly narrow limits, by behavioural means; basking, or seeking shade.*) and during the winter months with the lower seasonal temperatures and the consequent lack of food availability in their home regions, their feeding slows down or stops, resulting in diminished energy reserves. Some of you might recall the experiment I carried out some time back, where I recorded temperature ranges over an extended period, in different areas and localities near my home. Underground and above ground, in hollow trees, anthills, amongst rock outcrops etc. In this experiment, it became clear that in winter, those snakes that weren’t already living in such conditions, might look for alternative areas where the ambient temperatures remained almost constant throughout the season, where they could slow down their metabolism (not fully hibernate) to a manageable level.

Above ground, it’s a hole. Below, it’s a 5 star Hotel for snakes.

In contrast to this more specialised environment, in exposed areas in the same region, temperatures could fluctuate up or down by perhaps 30 deg.c or more in a single day.

Snakes that choose the controlled ambience will often come out of hiding to do a bit of basking in winter sun, in order to maintain energy reserves, but will not necessarily feed owing to their inability to digest their food in the colder temperatures.

A Herald head basking in winter. The winter sun keeps the energy levels up – just in case.

By contrast, snakes in the substantially colder climates north of the equator, are true hibernators who almost fully shut down their metabolisms during the winter months. There are numerous documentaries available, on the lives of some of these snakes – many of them Canadian – showing their very different lifestyles (9 months asleep in the deep-freeze and 3 outside if you’re lucky, to do all you need to do, eat, bask, skip, run, procreate etc.) Not for sissies I can assure you.

Notes

*Oxford Dictionary of Zoology. Allaby 1999

About the author

Pat was born in the UK, educated and brought up in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, and came to South Africa in 1983. He developed an early interest in the study of the behavioural aspects of insects and animals, rather than the deeper scientific side, and he’s worked with snakes for most of his life. Pat conducts educational walks and talks throughout SA and into neighbouring countries where snakes are grossly misunderstood and needlessly killed. He writes articles for a number of publications, and has written the book ‘Getting to Know the Neighbours’, which is all about understanding snake behaviour and is aimed at teaching others how to come to terms with them.

Pat can be contacted at: herpet@snakecountrycc.co.za.