About the time I was ten, I packed a Remington .22 rifle over these foothill cowtrails, shooting ground squirrels, but much too often for my mother, I brought home rattles as some measure of my impending manhood. Most local outdoormen have rattlesnake stories – and once begun, the first ones pale with each successive tale. Nearly a half-century later, though, I tend to leave rattlesnakes alone unless they are in the yard, barn, or places we frequent. I had the good fortune to work with Loren Fredricks, a native of Dry Creek and a rodeo and cowboy legend beyond Tulare County. I was surprised to learn during those years that he would never kill a rattlesnake regardless of the circumstances.
I attribute much of my change in attitude to age and an appreciation for the rattlesnake's predominately honest nature, but I also suspect that I leave one or two in places where the uninitiated might gain more respect for the wild. The Western Diamondback of our region truly wants to be left alone, and generally doesn’t rattle unless it’s threatened. The herd of cats we encourage around our house know where the snakes are and usually corral them to rattle when they’re on the move.
August 2005
Every spring, the Yokut tribes would perform a Rattlesnake Dance, the last of which was held at the Tule River near Porterville about 1870. Trahundun was both the messenger (winatun) and the right hand man of Tihpiknit, keeper of the underworld, in the Yokuts’ folklore, crawling and spying upon the natives to identify who was good and who was bad. The bad people were reported and dispatched to the underworld. Trahundun had the power to facilitate their departure even without striking or biting.
As insurance against the supernatural powers of the Trahundun and snake bites during seed and berry picking time, the ceremony of the Rattlesnake Dance was performed in the spring as the snakes came out of hibernation. Rattlesnakes were collected into baskets by Trudum (snake doctors) who could whistle and chant the snakes out of the rockpiles and dens. The Yokuts are well-known for their baskets (tawits), and the Trudum would transport the rattlesnakes in bottlenecked, woven baskets decorated with the designs of diamondbacks, water skaters, and ants, and some with quail top knots inserted around the flat shoulders of the open-topped container to help keep the snake calm and subdued.
According to myth, some good people died as a result of a bad rattlesnake who had reported them to Tihpiknit. Homenul (quail) was the champion of fair play in Yokuts’ mythology, and the ant was known for administering great punishment for its size. The water skater was a winatun or messenger also. Knowing what had to be done, the quail told the water skaters to carry the word to the ants who stung the rattlesnake to death and ate him – hence the basket’s decorative warning.
San Joaquin Valley Quail (Homenul)
Quoting Frank F. Latta from his 1920s interview with Tawpnaw, a respected Wukchumne (triblet of the Yokuts) elder, “water skater crossed the Kaweah River at Tiupinish (now Lemon Cove) in order to bring the ants. The ants crossed the river by collecting on the end of a rotten stick that projected over the water. Because of their weight, the stick broke off and fell into the river. The Teah (Chief) of the ants told them to sing a Tripne (magic) song that said, ‘Oh Homenul, make your wings carry us to Trahundun Pahn.’ The ants sang this over and over, not in unison, but each in his own time so that someone would be singing all the time until they were carried to Trahundun Pahn.”
August 2005
