McINNES, Angus David (1893-1957)
McINNES, Angus David (1893-1957)
Angus David McInnes boarded at the Geelong College from 1908 to 1910.
Born near the Victorian Wimmera town of Rupanyup, he was the son of a scotsman, John McInnes and Isabella nee Mackay
At the time of his death on 13 March 1957 Angus was a boiler attendant employed at the Hotel Kurrajong, Canberra. He was interred at St John's Church, Canberra where a white marble memorial marks his grave.
He appears to have had a small boy fascination with snakes as the following account from Pegasus of June 1909 discloses:
My Snakes
'I HAVE kept snakes as pets for some time, but I am afraid they do
not think it kind of me to do so. They do not seem to understand
that I have saved them from many dangers, and they would bite
me if they got the chance, but, unfortunately for them, they never
get it.
Brown snakes are awkward things to catch, for they hit with
their tails, and are as slippery to hold as an eel fresh from the
water. The best way to hold them is to put your thumb and first
finger over the head, so as to get a firm grasp on the lower jaw,
and to hold the neck firmly with the other three fingers. It is as
well to catch hold of the tail also, for if you do not, you will most
likely get some nasty blows from it. Then the struggle will begin,
for a snake has got a great deal of strength. After it has tried to
get away by slashing round with its tail, it will twist itself around
your arm or leg, or anything that it can get hold of. You must be
careful not to let it get round your neck, or the consequences might
be serious, as you would naturally try to pull it off, and you would
find that the harder you pulled, the tighter it would hold.
When I want to catch a big snake, I proceed in the following
manner. I get a stick shaped like the letter Y, with two sharp
prongs, and stick these prongs into the ground over the snake's
neck. If they happen to come over his back instead, I have to
change them to his neck, and this is the most difficult part of the
whole business. Sometimes I do it like this : as soon as the stick
pins his back to the ground, I take off my coat ; then, as soon as
the snake puts his head on the ground, I throw my coat over it,
and thrust the stick where I think the neck is. The coat protects
the snake from injury, and the stick does not damage the coat to
any great extent. When once I have the neck pinned down, it is
an easy matter to extract the poison, as the snake is by this time
so angry that he will bite at anything. I take my pocket handkerchief,
fold it up, and throw it at the reptile. It will at once
bite at the handkerchief, and I let it do so as much as it likes, as
in this way all the poison is got rid of.
I take the poison from my captive snakes every morning by
simply waving a piece of flannel in front of them. This soon
makes them angry, and they make a grab at the flannel, and inject
their poison into the material. From a snake 4½ feet long I get
about one drop of poison.
When I want to feed them I throw them into crab holes, where
they find plenty of tadpoles. As a matter of fact, when a snake
has once got over the sulks, it does not need to be fed, as it feeds
itself.
Snakes get very cunning after a while, and will not come out
of the water if they see me about, for they know that, if they do,
they will be captured and imprisoned in a box with thin wire netting
on the front.
I have now given a full account of my experience with snakes,
and I hope that my readers will enjoy it as much as the snakes
enjoy the tadpoles.
A. D. MCINNES.'
Sources: Pegasus June 1909 pp 55-57; Canberra Times 16 March 1957 p 10; St John's Church burial Records. CL/PM
Angus David McInnes boarded at the Geelong College from 1908 to 1910.
Born near the Victorian Wimmera town of Rupanyup, he was the son of a scotsman, John McInnes and Isabella nee Mackay
At the time of his death on 13 March 1957 Angus was a boiler attendant employed at the Hotel Kurrajong, Canberra. He was interred at St John's Church, Canberra where a white marble memorial marks his grave.
He appears to have had a small boy fascination with snakes as the following account from Pegasus of June 1909 discloses:
My Snakes
'I HAVE kept snakes as pets for some time, but I am afraid they do
not think it kind of me to do so. They do not seem to understand
that I have saved them from many dangers, and they would bite
me if they got the chance, but, unfortunately for them, they never
get it.
Brown snakes are awkward things to catch, for they hit with
their tails, and are as slippery to hold as an eel fresh from the
water. The best way to hold them is to put your thumb and first
finger over the head, so as to get a firm grasp on the lower jaw,
and to hold the neck firmly with the other three fingers. It is as
well to catch hold of the tail also, for if you do not, you will most
likely get some nasty blows from it. Then the struggle will begin,
for a snake has got a great deal of strength. After it has tried to
get away by slashing round with its tail, it will twist itself around
your arm or leg, or anything that it can get hold of. You must be
careful not to let it get round your neck, or the consequences might
be serious, as you would naturally try to pull it off, and you would
find that the harder you pulled, the tighter it would hold.
When I want to catch a big snake, I proceed in the following
manner. I get a stick shaped like the letter Y, with two sharp
prongs, and stick these prongs into the ground over the snake's
neck. If they happen to come over his back instead, I have to
change them to his neck, and this is the most difficult part of the
whole business. Sometimes I do it like this : as soon as the stick
pins his back to the ground, I take off my coat ; then, as soon as
the snake puts his head on the ground, I throw my coat over it,
and thrust the stick where I think the neck is. The coat protects
the snake from injury, and the stick does not damage the coat to
any great extent. When once I have the neck pinned down, it is
an easy matter to extract the poison, as the snake is by this time
so angry that he will bite at anything. I take my pocket handkerchief,
fold it up, and throw it at the reptile. It will at once
bite at the handkerchief, and I let it do so as much as it likes, as
in this way all the poison is got rid of.
I take the poison from my captive snakes every morning by
simply waving a piece of flannel in front of them. This soon
makes them angry, and they make a grab at the flannel, and inject
their poison into the material. From a snake 4½ feet long I get
about one drop of poison.
When I want to feed them I throw them into crab holes, where
they find plenty of tadpoles. As a matter of fact, when a snake
has once got over the sulks, it does not need to be fed, as it feeds
itself.
Snakes get very cunning after a while, and will not come out
of the water if they see me about, for they know that, if they do,
they will be captured and imprisoned in a box with thin wire netting
on the front.
I have now given a full account of my experience with snakes,
and I hope that my readers will enjoy it as much as the snakes
enjoy the tadpoles.
A. D. MCINNES.'
Sources: Pegasus June 1909 pp 55-57; Canberra Times 16 March 1957 p 10; St John's Church burial Records. CL/PM