My Dad told the story of frog gigging when he was a youth. The guys followed a stream from the highway one night. One of them gigged a cottonmouth to a tree. But they could not kill it. They had to go back to the truck to get the 22. They took the flashlight. The guy pinning the snake to the tree was left along in the dark. As long as the snake was thrashing around, he felt OK. But he got really nervous when the snake was still.
Alone in a swamp, in the dark of night, with a very mad poisonous snake. What could go wrong?
Winton