A Texas patch-nosed snake made a cameo appearance then retreated.
It was 3PM when Jake finished loading his necessities in the Honda. This would be the first long trip for the CRV and I was hoping it would prove as trusty as the old ’96 RAV that had only recently “bitten the dust.” I-10 was only an hour away and once in the westbound lanes of that highway we would really be on our way. By the time we had reached the Alabama state line dusk was nigh. Traffic was fast through Mississippi, then Louisiana followed. Over the Mississippi River and across the 18+ mile long causeway that spans the Atchafalaya Basin. Finally we rolled into Texas, made it uneventfully through Houston and continued on to San Antonio—and beyond. The world turned, the sun rose then disappeared behind an ever thickening layer of clouds. A short foray in Kinney County produced a pretty and feisty bullsnake and followed by a fleeting view of a Texas patchnose. Under the cloud cover we again moved westward. Del Rio was behind us and finally Comstock, our first real destination was on the horizon. The motel beckoned. Lunch at the C&J beckoned equally persistently. Then it was time for a long overdue nap.

Adult matamatas, like this 10 incher, are darker in color than the hatchlings.I was walking and netting slowly in the shallows of the Rio Orosa (Amazonian Peru) hoping against hope to find young marbled swamp eels, Suriname toads, aquatic caecilians, or baby electric eels. So far I had found only a few tetra and cichlid species but it was getting late and I was getting tired. Lightning rent the sky and illuminated the towering cumulus clouds miles distant, closer to the Rio Amazonas. Another scoop produced a few more fish and a 3” long rock. Whoops. There are no rocks like that in the Amazon. I had scooped a baby matamata, Chelus fimbriatus, from the grassy shallows. And after 20+ years of scooping it remains the only one I have ever personally found.

There is no other turtle in the world that even approximates the appearance of the matamata. The mud-colored, rough textured, flattened, oblong, carapace bears 3 prominent keels. The plastron is small and provides virtually no protection to the underside of the limbs or neck. The neck is horizontally flattened and prominently fringed. The head is flattened, bears triangular temporal lobes, a snorkel like nose, small eyes, and a wide curved jaw. Neck and head are mud-brown dorsally. Ventrally the head and neck of adults (they can reach a length of 16”) are usually dark but young examples have a pinkinsh chin and 3 very pink, broad, throat stripes .

But enough words. The accompanying pix will better explain the overall appearance of this remarkable turtle. Enjoy.

Hatchling spotted turtles usually have only a single spot in each carapacial scute. These may increase in number as the turtle ages.
Strange though it may seem, the beautiful and aptly named spotted turtle, Clemmys guttata, has been hiding in many of its disjunct Florida ranges pretty much in plain sight. Now the lone species in the genus Clemmys, the spotted turtle has an immense, but disjunct, range that reaches on one leg of the range from southeastern Canada westward to eastern Illinois and on the other leg southward from southeastern Maine through the eastern seaboard states to central Florida. Everywhere secretive, it is nowhere more so than in Florida.

Because of examples found along Interstate 4, what is thought to be the southernmost population (Polk County) is rather well documented. From there it jumps spottily northward along the east coast to Duval County and westward to Hamilton and Wakulla counties. Long known to occur in north central Florida, the Alachua County population is currently being tracked and documented by FWC biologists. There they are finding that the population is more robust than was expected. This is encouraging in a world where so many other herp species are being extirpated or actually becoming extinct. And if you happen to find a spotted turtle, either dead or alive, in Florida, please take a moment to contact and advise the Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission.

Adult Colombian red ears may attain 10" in length and the pattern becomes suffused with melanin.
No doubt worse for the baby turtles than for the humans who bought them, there was a time- span of several decades (until 1975 when the sale of turtles having a carapace length of less than 4” became illegal) when hatchling red-eared sliders, Cumberland sliders, and Mississippi map turtles were sold over the counters of almost every five and dime store in the nation. In that time frame the little turtles were hatched in Gulf Coast turtle farms by the tens of thousands. But it was soon apparent that despite the immense numbers produced, the little reptiles became unavailable for several months each year. To the rescue of the industry came the South American country of Colombia.

Their baby turtles, both red-eared sliders and Amazon sidenecks, hatched at a different time of the year and became available as a “fill in” for the months when the American species were not available.

Thus, we were introduced to the Colombian red-eared slider. Then (when subspecies were in vogue), this pretty turtle was known as Pseudemys scripta callirostris. Today this same species is known as Trachemys callirostris, and it, like many other once common pet trade species, is no longer often seen.

Boomslangs are variably colored. Greens, blacks, and grays are most common.
Are you old enough to remember the term “junk” or “trash” snakes? No?

Well these were terms once used by importers for the “unordered” snake species that they received (and were expected to pay for) on each order of imports. They were usually common, often rear-fanged species (such as guarda caminos (road guarders)), tree snakes, genera Philodryas and Ahaetulla, cat-eyed snakes (Leptodeira and Boiga) and if the order was from Africa, boomslangs!

The boomslang (boom=tree, slang=snake in Afrikaans), Dispholidus typus, is a wide spread, very common, arboreal species that African dealers tried desperately to sell with each and (almost) every valid order from each and (almost) every American dealer. The boomslang, a rear fanged colubrine taxon, has a complex and dangerous venom. This was learned in the hardest and most indelible way by herpetologist Karl P. Schmidt, who suffered a bite from one and documented the effect of the venom that proved lethal 24 hours later.

Of variable color and pattern, the 3 ½ to 6 foot long boomslang may be black, gray, green or more rarely brick red. The green(ish) eyes of this lizard and frog eater are proportionately large, and especially so on juvenile examples.

The boomslang is no longer a commonly imported species, and rather than being a “disposable” taxon are now coveted by many venomous keepers.

My how the times have changed!

Adult Mt. Kenya bush vipers are clad in a contrasting pattern of black and yellow.

It was back in the 1970s I acquired my first Mt. Kenya bush viper, Atheris desaixii. I hadn’t been looking for the taxon and I’m not even sure that I was aware of the existence of this viperine species until then.

Even then the acquisition was happenstance. I got a phone call one night from Hank Molt. It was back in those old those old days when Hank was “king of the herp rarities.”

“Dick. I know you like bush vipers and I’ve got one here that you just have to see.” It’s from Mt. Kenya and you’ve got to see it. C’mon up.” The fact that I was in Tampa and Hank was in Philadelphia was of small consequence. I hopped on the next northbound Delta and was soon in Philadelphia.

Hank met me at the airport and an hour later I was staring at one of the prettiest snakes I had until then seen. About 2 feet long, the ground color was charcoal and besides almost every dorsal and lateral scale bearing a tiny dot of butter yellow, the yellow was carried over into an intricate pattern.

When I asked Hank the price of the snake I was taken aback. Back in those days herps were usually quite affordable. This one teetered on the brink of being non-affordable. But I wanted the snake, Hank wanted to sell it, and after a bit of bargaining, it became mine. Ahhhh. Those were the good old days!

Scarlet Kingsnake! Need I say more?
Levy County is huge and still relatively untrammeled in many areas. Lately I have been spending less and less time fieldherping and more time birding, pursuits said by some to be relatively similar but that I find vastly different.

It was not until I had turned and was well on the way out that I noticed the remains of a huge long dead pine. But it was not the standing pine, itself well hidden in a canopy of green, that had caught my eye. Rather it was a huge fallen limb, a foot or more in diameter, that beckoned.

I slowed the car, passed, continued about 100 yards then decided to stop. Backing up that final 100 yards took only a few seconds. Shift lever in park, I stepped from the car and walked the couple of dozen few feet to the limb, shifted one end of it an inch or two, stepped back, looked down, and found myself staring at what until that moment been a well-hidden partial coil—red, black, yellow, black red—a beautiful, adult, scarlet king, Lampropeltis triangulum elapsoides. A worthwhile stop indeed.

Body color can vary to blend with the substrate.
It was just past sunup and I was walking a boardwalk over a saltmarsh in Levy County when I noticed the chunky, charcoal-on-gray snake lying loosely coiled on some bent over marsh grasses. A little further on there was another in what seemed an easily duplicated scene and then a third. In fact, the only divergence from this snake-on-the-grass format, from what I had begun to think of as the “norm” after seeing it over and over on the last 2 trips occurred almost at the end of my stroll where the elevated walkway passed through a stand of mangroves. There, a slender, more alert, and more brightly colored yearling Gulf salt-marsh snake, Nerodia clarkii clarkii, took immediate notice of my not so stealthy approach and with alacrity moved from its sunny position on the walkway into the darkness and obscurity of the mangrove branches.

Simple statistics: Since being described in 1853, this small water snake has had an unsettled nomenclatural history (Regina clarkii – Baird & Girard 1853, Tropidonotus clarkii – Cope 1861, Natrix clarki – Allen 1932, Natrix sipedon clarki – Conant 1958, Natrix fasciata clarki – Conant 1975, Nerodia clarkii clarkii – Conant & Collins 1991). When healthy this snake is of moderate girth, seldom exceeds 30” in adult length but is often 21 to 25 inches, with females being the larger sex. Dorsal ground color can vary between tan or pale gray to charcoal and there are 4 darker stripes, 2 dorsal and 2 lateral. There are from one to 3 rows of lightspots on the belly.

A burrowing frog floating quietly between the bleating calls.
So What’s a Waaaaaaaa-mooch?

It was probably about 1949 or 1950 when I learned of the "waaaaaaa-mooch." A couple of my favorite childhood books were by naturalist Ivan T. Sanderson. And it was in his "Living Treasure" (published in 1941) that he discussed his first encounter with this, the tropical Mexican burrowing frog Rhinophrynus dorsalis. He perceived its vocalizations as a series of long, mournful, “waaaaaaa-moooooch” cries

Despite its name, this frog may actually be found well beyond Mexico. It is known to range from Costa Rica northward to southern Texas, but its distribution is spotty. Additionally, the frog is very secretive, usually emerging from its burrows to forage only during heavy rains, and to breed only during sustained torrential rains.

It was during a hurricane event in Texas’ LRGV that I finally met this anuran in the state. It had been pouring for 2 days and the countryside was awash. Gusty rain was driven in through the cracked windows. I was soaked. A flooded ditch and beyond that a flooded pasture… Then a chorus of waaaaaaaAAAHHHHS.

Different dialect but the very same eagerly sought frog.

In the ditch were a number of triangle shaped faces. As I watched I saw that those tiny frog faces were attached to inflated bodies that bobbed up in down in time with their calls, a bit like a flattened carousel where the horses go up and down in time to the music.
Success.

Curly-tails are alert and very fast.
The curly-tailed lizard, Leiocephalus carinatus, looks superficially like a heavy bodied swift (fence lizard) with an unruly, upcurled, tail. Present in Florida since the mid-1930s when it was deliberately introduced in the hope that it would consume unwanted insects in the sugarcane crops, this active diurnal Bahamian native is now seldom seen in the cane growing regions but has become common to abundant along the east coast of Florida from Martin to Miami-Dade counties and in lesser numbers in Monroe County. There it may be seen displaying on curbstones, parking barriers, and garden ornaments in locales as varied as sea-dunes to inland parks and urban neighborhoods.

The genus Leiocephalus is large and diverse. Alone, the species L. carinatus¸ the taxon present in Florida, contains 13 Bahamian and Cuban subspecies. Most are of quite similar appearance and the subspecies are best differentiated by range. Although over the years at least 3 subspecies (L. c. armouri, L. c. coryi, and L. c. virescens) have been introduced to Florida, only the first of the 3, the northern curly-tailed lizard, has become firmly established.

Although not particularly inclined to do so, this lizard would much prefer to bask or dart actively about at ground level as it forages for insects in piles of building rubble or oolitic limestone.

Most adult male marbled salamanders are precisely marked in black and white.
The beautiful marbled salamander, Ambystoma opacum, ranges southward from extreme South Eastern New Hampshire and Southern Michigan to East Texas and Northern Florida. Interestingly and sadly, the Florida range of this pretty autumn breeding mole salamander once extended as far south on the FL peninsula as Hillsborough County (Tampa Bay). I know this as a fact, for back in the mid-60s Ron Sayers and I found both adult and juvenile marbled salamanders beneath weathered ties under railroad bridges near Lithia Springs.

I am not sure when this population of marbled salamanders disappeared from that area. Nor do I know the whys of its disappearance. Having moved northward, it was not until 1979 that I returned to Florida and was able to return to the locale. By then everything about the area had changed. The area was dustbowl dry, the discarded ties were gone and the railroad itself was little more than a memory.

Now, when I hope to see one of these autumn breeding, light banded, black salamanders, I start my search in woodland locales about 200 miles northwestward of Tampa. But as I search I can’t help but reminisce about the Florida, the herping, of the last half of the 20th century and thinking that the changes herpers see now are not for the better.

An adult pair of green forest Dragons, male right.

I had veered from the trail a bit. Darkness had fallen and we had stopped at a riverside Amazonian village. The evening meal was prepared on the riverboat and a half-dozen of us were walking a trail with our Peruvian guide in the lead. So far, all seen had been a blunt-headed tree snake and 2 species of gecko. I wasn’t too far from the trail, and this being my first trip to the region, I wasn’t about to lose contact with the guide. The Amazonian rainforest is a wonderful place, a bastion of greenery at all levels—including face level.

And it was at face level, on a horizontal branch extending outward from a slender sapling, that I met my first green forest dragon, Enyalioides laticeps. Sleeping soundly on that limb, the foot-long lizard was even greener than the surrounding greenery. Blunt nosed, heavy bodied, and long tailed, in appearance the lizard reminded me of an Asian green water dragon.

Waking only after I had lifted it carefully from the tree, the beautiful creature was identified by the tour leader, photographed by the several hike participants, and replaced.

Since then I have found that this lizard species is rather common and is a whole lot easier to find at night as it sleeps than during the day when it is active.

This was a wonderful start to a 10 day long Amazonian interlude during which over 100 herp species were seen and photographed. Life was good!

Hatchling western chicken turtles.
Chicken turtles, the 3 subspecies of Deirochelys reticularia are wanderers. Between periods of aestivation or brumation chicken turtles wander from ephemeral pond to equally ephemeral roadside ditch where they hunt crayfish, dragonfly larvae, and occasional small fish, or other turtle fare, and then wander on again. I usually see, more by accident than intent, the eastern and the Florida subspecies every year, but the western is far less of a certainty. In fact, I have seen the western chicken turtle, D. r. miaria, only twice in the wild.

The most recent sighting, now several years ago, was in a shallow, woodland surrounded, brushy pond in a city park in Houston, TX. Brandon had led Kenny and me to this pond. He had earlier seen the turtle on several occasions and felt that on this sunny day the turtle would be up and basking. He was right. It was an adult and we found it lying quietly on a slender fallen tree, easily visible, but difficult to photograph.

We tried but got only voucher shots and our manipulations alerted the creature. It dropped the several inches from the limb to the safety of the water. Our visit was concluded. Next stop, the Grasslands.

A resting pair of turnip-tailed agamas.
Meet Xenagama taylori, a species deserving of much more attention by the herpetocultural community.

It was about 30 years ago when I first saw X. taylori, a small (to about 4 ½ “ total length), robust, oviparous, agamid lizard that has come to be known as the shield-tailed or, more commonly, the turnip-tailed agama. It is a burrowing, aridland , omnivorous species of Somalia and Ethiopia. Small insects are relished as are the blossoms, fruits, and seeds, of desert plants. The very spiny, flat, broadly rounded tail is used as a burrow plug by resting lizards. This, like many desert species, is not a brightly colored lizard. Although the dorsal colors may darken or lighten, the ash-gray to rich tan dorsal color blends well with the substrates chosen by the lizards. The belly is white. In fact, the only splash of color displayed by the species are the bright blue chin and chest that are assumed by displaying males.

For several years following the initial importation of this lizard (and one congeneric taxon), Xenagama taylori was popular with hobbyists. When maintained in desert terrarium setups having a temperature of 80 to 95F and a hot spot of 110 to 120F, it proved hardy and was not difficult to breed. Sadly, it is now a seldom seen species in herpetoculture.

Target taxon #1: Chihuahuan lyre snake, Trimorphodon vilkinsonii.As you read this blog, Jake and I are driving westward; destination Texas’ Big Bend…the Chihuahuan Desert. My mind’s eye is already visualizing the desolate roadways, some paved, many dirt and rock, edged with spine studded plants and crossed by packs of feisty javelina (peccaries), lizard-hunting roadrunners, four species of rattlesnakes, horned lizards and lyre snakes. The mountains, the Davis’, the Chisos, the Christmas’s, the Rosillo’s, and if you travel a bit further west, the Guadalupes, islands of boulders and talus, sere and windworn in some spots, lush and green in others. Lajitas, where the elected mayor is a goat! Terlingua that bills itself as a ghost town. Study Butte that fortunately has a 24- hour gas station. There’s Big Bend National Park and Big Bend Ranch State Park nestled tightly against the Rio Grande (Rio Bravo to many) that are, except during tourist season, bastions of solitude. Despite having been to this remarkably beautiful area on a dozen occasions, I still anticipate each visit with excitement. Will the old windmill still be standing? What herps will we see? What birds? Will we see a panther, a badger, bannertail kangaroo rats, Border Patrol? We’ll soon know. We’re almost there.

Speedy and agile, this species occurs only near Presidio, TX and in southwestern New Mexico.Finding the gray-checkered whiptail, Aspidoscelis dixoni, out near Presidio (TX) wasn't too difficult. Kenny and I located the (now contested) species in an old roadside dumping ground where amidst the sun-baked boards, house hold unwanteds and bullet riddled car skeletons several gray checkered whiptails had found home. But finding them and photographing them proved to be two very different projects. Photographing a lizard that moves only in instantaneously applied bursts of jet propulsion amidst piles of trash and building debris rife with protruding nails and broken glass was another matter entirely. For our own safety we elected to employ capture and release techniques, Lizard nooses to the rescue!

Like many whiptails, this is a hybrid, parthenogenetic (unisexual) species. It is named in honor of the late Dr. James R. Dixon. The species, a member of the confusing Aspidoscelis tesselatus complex, is not recognized by all researchers.

This vocalizing Pine Barrens treefrog is in a Florida panhandle locale.
Quonk, quonk, quonk. Some say these calls are reminiscent of the honks of geese. I’ve never been able to pick up on this similarity, but to each their own. Instead I hear the vocalizations of the beautiful Pine Barrens treefrog, Hyla andersonii, as being similar to, but a bit higher in pitch and more rapidly repeated than, the calls of the more common green treefrog.

Known to occur in the bogs of the New Jersey Pine Barrens and the Carolinas, it was not until 1970, when researcher Steve Christman found a road killed specimen in Florida, that this beautiful green, orange, and plum, colored treefrog was known to occur in acidic/sphagnaceous/steephead habitats on Florida’s western panhandle as well as in adjacent Alabama.

Although not common, now that more than 150 small populations have been found, it is recognized that this treefrog is not quite as rare as once thought.

This pair of Amazonian hog-nosed vipers lay quietly at trailedge.
Have you ever while herping, stopped dead in your tracks thinking that you just walked by something you should have seen but you weren’t sure just what it was? I’ve done that a couple of times with copperheads and in no case do I know what it was that alerted me.

So knowing that I am fully capable of occasional oversights, whenever I have that feeling I stop and spend considerable time ascertaining what it was that caused that feeling.

I was on a forest darkened Amazonian trail and I had just stopped. Something wasn’t quite right. Undergrowth was sparse but fallen leaves of primary canopy, now variously hued in browns, yellows, and russets, littered the forest floor.

I studied the trail edges on both sides. Nothing. I walked back a few feet and studied anew. Nothing. I pulled out a pocket flashlight and restudied. Still nothing. I had just about decided that I had responded to a false alarm when not 12 inches from my foot a brown and russet leaf moved. No. It wasn’t a leaf. It was a snake. Wrong again. It was 2 snakes. Half hidden in leaf litter was a pair of Amazonian hog-nosed vipers! Not big, not bright, but a spectacular find.

Green now, this barker may assume a spotted or brown color within minutes.
The barking has started. Well, not barking really. The sound is more of an oft repeated explosive “toooonk,” the sound of barking treefrogs, Hyla gratiosa, at home. Now, rather than just being called the largest treefrog in Florida, when size is mentioned it requires the qualification of the word “native.” The barking treefrog is the largest NATIVE treefrog in Florida, its 2 5/8” snout-vent length now being far surpassed by the up to 5” long Cuban treefrog that is somehow steadily adapting to lower temperatures and expanding its range northward.

Barkers breed in shallow, ephemeral, ponds and usually vocalize while floating. More often than not they anchor themselves at the preferred calling site by holding to a stem of water-surface vegetation with one front foot.

Although in size they may now be surpassed, they cannot be surpassed in their chameleon–like color changes. Within minutes the same frog may change ground color from brown to olive to bright green and have unedged dorsal spotting, no dorsal spotting, or dorsal spotting edged with a narrow border of lighter pigment.

Time to go. A nice chorus of barkers are “tooonking” again.

Southern toads vary from brick red to gray and are common in our yard.

Every morning (without fail I hasten to add) Gabby our little “Heinz terrier” accompanies me from house to the street to fetch our newspapers. Again I state that she accompanies and I fetch. Usually the short stroll is uneventful, but occasionally Gabby is in a hunting mode. The morning following our last rainfall was one of her hunting trips. In the darkness, within a few feet of the door, she managed to scare up an eastern spadefoot, Scaphiopus holbrooki, a southern toad, Bufo terrestris, and a southern leopard frog, Rana sphenocephala.

For me, 3 anuran species before 6AM is a pretty good start for the day. The fact that all 3 taxa breed in the yard did not lessen Gabby’s accomplishment in the least. At least in her eyes it didn’t.

Maybe I should start taking her with me on hunts for more difficult species. She seems to do much better than I.

The seemingly uncommon Brazil's pit viper is heavy bodied and rather precisely patterned.
“That guy on the bank has a snake.” The speaker was Rob. The place was a tributary of the mighty Amazon. We were on a riverboat. I don’t remember how Rob got that snake. I know the boat had slowed and I guess Rob hopped overboard and swam. But get it he did. And once there the snake—a Brazil’s lancehead, Bothrops brazili-- was temporarily housed in a small duffle. I also remember Rob exclaiming that he thought he had just gotten bitten and the relief we all felt when it was learned that Rob had just pricked his finger on a sharp projection.

That was the first of my 3 meetings with a Brazil’s lancehead (a patronym honoring Dr. Vital Brazil of Instituto Butantan fame and not a place reference). Of these 3, 2 were alive and one had been freshly killed by a villager that had happened upon the snake while gardening. It would seem that the preferred habitat for Brazil’s lancehead is amidst the forest-floor litter in primary rainforest. This taxon is much less common than the sympatric fer-de-lance, B. atrox. The 2 species may usually be differentiated by the presence or lack of a postocular stripe—strongly defined on B. atrox and weakly defined or absent on B. brazili.

A portrait of the beautiful green vine snake.

Get it Carl, get it! And although Carl tried, really tried, the snake beat him across the clearing and once in the water of the coche (oxbow) it was gone forever. The snake was a green vine snake, Oxybelis fulgidus, and Carl? Well he knows who he was.

But there is one thing that we watchers are still trying to figure out. While we were standing on the high ground talking to Carl he was fully clothed. Then 100 feet or so away the vine snake made its appearance.

Seconds later, when in hot pursuit of the snake Carl plunged into the silted water of the Amazon coche, he was wearing only his skivvies and his outer clothing was strewn along the pursuit path. How had he accomplished this seeming feat of magic?

I’m not going to show you a photo of Carl or his discarded clothing but here are a few pix of the snake species that caused the uncanny unclothing occurrence.

Juvenile Baja California rat snakes are prominently patterned.
In May of 1984, 2 miles east of Mountain Spring, Imperial County, California, a dead snake was found on Interstate 8. The snake was a Baja California rat snake, Bogertophis rosaliae. The finding of this specimen, before and since unknown to occur in the USA, then stirred much controversy. Controversy continues today with some researchers believing this locality to be genuine, but with the lack of other examples of this snake species north of the border causing other researchers to question the validity of the find.

There is, however, no question that the Baja rat snake, is a common species along almost the entire length of the peninsula for which it was named. And it is still hoped that its presence in the USA will someday be confirmed.

While hatchlings and juveniles of the Baja California rat snake are blotched dorsally, the adults of this bug-eyed snake, whether olive, lavender, or orange, are unicolored.

The genus Bogertophis is bitypic, with the only other species in the genus being the much better known Trans-Pecos rat snake, B. subocularis.

Most brilliant when a young adult, eastern mud salamanders usually dull with advancing age.
Florida was far behind. Jake (hoping for his lifer eastern mud salamander) and I were sloshing through soupy mud topped with shallow water. The water, itself, was capped with oily looking iron slicks. Long dead trees lay helter-skelter, most in advanced states of decomposition, the trunks of others more newly fallen, still hard and unyielding. Working separately, after an hour or so we had between us turned and replaced more than 100 logs and limbs, and had found nothing beneath but more mud. Disappointed, we decided to bring our hunt for the eastern mud salamander, Pseudotriton m. montanus, to a halt and move on to the next target.

We were 25 miles north of the locale when Justin called and Jake told him of our failure. In a few sentences Justin explained that we had been searching the wrong area of the vast swamp and gave Jake some more precise directions. Jake wanted to try again so we turned and returned. Forty five minutes later we were trudging past the area of the swamp we had so recently left and continued along the trail for another half mile.

More soupy mud and more logs in various stages of decomposition now lay in front of us. Having seen many eastern mud salamanders in other areas I elected to search for other caudatans along the shore. But Jake, slogging, slipping and flipping, persevered in the foot deep mud. And a half hour later his perseverance paid off. He found and we photographed his lifer eastern mud. Now it really was “next target time.”

This large, gravid, aquatic caecilian was netted from the grassy shoreline of an Amazonian river.
It was about midnight. A half dozen of us had just returned to the river boat from a long Amazonian rainforest walk. Several frogs and a few snakes had been found and we now sat on deck discussing the herps that had been seen and what had been missed, watching occasional meteors in the star-spangled sky, and sipping coffee or cold drinks. One by one the participants all headed for the showers and a well-earned few hours of sleep.

I grabbed a net and walked the gangplank to the weedy shore intending to net up a few tropical fish to photograph in the morning. Cichlids and rivulids were common and if lucky I might get a few interesting catfish as well.

But I was really lucky. After a few sweeps of the net I brought up a baby swamp eel, Synbranchus marmoratus, and…I could hardly believe my eyes, a 15” long aquatic caecilian, Typhlonectes compressicauda. I had known that the latter occurred in the region but I hadn’t until then found one. A few more net-sweeps in the shallows brought up another caecilian, this one a bit smaller. Both would be photographed and released in the morning.

Although I had actually kept and bred this interesting amphibian, the “rubber eel” of the aquarium industry, I was happy to make its acquaintance in the field. But it was late and the showers were beckoning. In just a few hours the titi monkeys would be vocalizing, signaling the start of another day of Amazon herping. Life was good.

Four-toed salamanders in their sphagnum habitat.
The bed of sphagnum stretched away from the small woodland stream in a semicircle of perhaps 20 yards. Beyond this, scattered smaller patches of sphagnum could be seen. All in all, the habitat looked ideal for the small salamander for which Jake and I were searching on this cool winter day, the four-toed salamander, Hemidactylium scutatum. But even amidst sphagnum habitats four-toes are not evenly distributed, preferring streamside locales where newly hatched larvae can attain, with just a little squirming, access to saturated moss and shallow water.

This area was intersected by several seepages as well as the main stream but it was along the latter that we finally found the 4-toes. Several females, most with egg clutches were seen. Within the egg capsules well developed, soon to hatch, larvae were wriggling.

The plethodontid genus Hemidactylium contains only this 3” long species. Usually reddish dorsally and grayish laterally, the most prominent diagnostic factors of the species are a white belly that bears well-separated black dots and a noticeable basal constriction on the tail. The tail autotomizes readily at the constriction.

This salamander occurs in a great many disjunct populations that range southwestward from the Canadian province of Nova Scotia to extreme seOK and eLA.

Two of the several American crocodiles near the Everglades Marina.
I was standing at the edge of the marina near the docks at the general store in Flamingo. It was a quarter moon, partially cloudy, night in Everglades National Park. A slight breeze stirred a few tiny wavelets to life. Their sloshing against the pilings nullified many of the surrounding sounds. But the splash of a surfacing fish could occasionally be heard and a barred owl repeatedly asked a mournful “who cooks for you, who cooks for you-all” from a tree closer to the road. On the docks laughing gulls and black skimmers stood mewing and murmuring , the gulls ghostly pale, the skimmers inky dark. Some ripples below me caught my eye and I turned the headlight on. A fair sized American crocodile had surfaced! My night was complete.

On almost every Everglades trip, day or night, I take a few minutes and stop by the marina to try and search out a basking crocodile. Occasionally one or more will be on the near bank or near the fish-cleaning house, but more often a croc can be found on the far bank. With diligent searching it is almost always possible to see 1 or more American crocodiles, Crocodylus acutus. Most are between 6 and 10 feet in length, but occasionally—I guess it would be more accurate to say “rarely--” a hatchling or yearling may be seen.

From a Florida population in the low hundreds a few decades ago, the number of this very cold sensitive, endangered, croc now probably exceeds 2,000. Known nests are carefully monitored by both federal and state biologists. It has been recorded in coastline habitats from Tampa Bay on the Gulf coast, southward through the Keys, then northward to Jupiter Beach on the east coast. As expected, and as always in the USA, it is most common in Miami-Dade and Monroe counties.

Small, stock, and with a distinctive tail and scalation, meet the carrot-tailed viper gecko.
Once quite commonly seen in the pet trade, for twofold reasons the little carrot-tailed viper gecko, Hemidactylus imbricatus (formerly Teratolepis fasciatus) is now harder to acquire. Firstly, there are almost no shipments coming to the USA from the Pakistan homeland of this gecko and secondly, for reasons not yet understood some breeders have found the hatchlings delicate. Hatchlings are said to often succumb within the first few weeks of their life.

This gecko of the rocky deserts attains an adult length of about 3 inches and is of stocky build. Despite its small size, once past the rather delicate hatchling stage, this is a hardy gecko that can live for many years in captivity on a diet of vitamin-calcium dusted baby crickets and tiny roaches.

The polygonal body scales are relatively small and only weakly imbricate. However the scales on the carrot-shaped tail are large and strongly imbricate.

My first examples came from a Pakistani friend in the early 60s. All arrived alive, bred readily, and within a year I had added several hatchlings to the growing colony.

Be these Hemidactylus or Teratolepis, they are an alert, primarily terrestrial, easily kept gecko, that is well worthy of consideration.

Additional reading: Bauer, Aaron M.; Varad B. Giri, Eli Greenbaum, Todd R. Jackman,
Mahesh S. Dharne and Yogesh S. 2008. On the Systematics of the Gekkonid Genus Teratolepis Günther, 1869: Another One Bites the Dust. Hamadryad 32 (2): 90-104

The name of spider gecko is derived from the long, spindly legs.The air mail letter from Jerry had just arrived from Karachi when our customs broker called and mentioned that we had an unexpected shipment from Pakistan at his facility. He could find neither packing list nor invoice within. Could we supply any info? I asked the broker to wait for a moment, opened the letter and found the needed documentation—a now forgotten number of leopard geckos, and a half dozen each of 3 other gecko species, 2 rat snakes, 2 whiskered vipers, and an Indian python were contained. I would fax it to him immediately. This was back in the 60s, at a time when U. S. Customs was easy to work with and there were virtually no state or federal regulatory laws. I expected no problems from this shipper’s oversight nor did we have any. The next morning the shipment was at our facility and I was eagerly unpacking it. I was familiar with most of the species from earlier shipments, but 2 species of geckos were new to me. One of these was the spider gecko, Agamura persica. What was this (remember there were few herp books and no computers/Google in those days)?

When after opening the bag I got my first look at this slender, big eyed, long legged, skinny tailed, creature I realized that I had never even imagined such a creature existed. I noticed too that they were devoid of toepads, and that when adult they are easily sexed, the males having pronounced hemipenial bulges as 5 of my 6 did. I also was quick to learn that the adult males were incompatible. The 6th individual, then a not sexable subadult, was a male.

Querying the shipper, I learned that this semidesert gecko was a saxicolous species, a terrarium type that was/is easily duplicated. In such terraria I found these geckos undemanding and very hardy.
And for this experience I say many thanks, Jerry.