The jagged edges of the crushed stone track stabbed painfully into my knee. I felt the sting of yet another pair of ant jaws clamping on to the flesh on my shin. A tickle of sweat rolled from my brow. My breaths were shallow. Even the imperceptible movement of respiration was too much. I could feel the camera starting to tremble against my eye as adrenaline was fizzing like Coca-Cola in my blood.

I stared at it and it stared back at me. Two sentient beings undertaking a risk assessment. Both committed to getting their prize. For me the prize was a photograph of a creature of myth and legend. A creature revered and feared in equal measure. Naja Sumatrana – the Equatorial Spitting Cobra.

I had seen Equatorial Spitting Cobras in the past, but only fleeting glimpses or in parts; a nose or tail sticking out from underneath something or from a hole. My first encounter was an angry face looking out from a small drain hole. I had wanted to see this species for a long time, so there was real excitement in spotting my first cobra.

We always want more. Not satisfied with partial sightings, I kept a sharp eye out at all potential locations. Cobras are creatures of habit and can often be found in the same areas.

It was a very hot day in Singapore and the air at the nature reserve was heavy with humidity. I followed the track, scanning the trees and bushes for wildlife. I passed over a storm drain and, as usual, approached the drain to look for frogs. As I peered in, my eyes widened to saucers and my jaw fell open. Just below me was a length of shiny black. I’d never been so close to or seen so much of a Spitting cobra.

I froze for a moment before slowly taking a couple of steps back to where I was out of sight. Now was my opportunity to get some photos of this beautiful creature. I took a wide loop so I could stay out of sight but get downstream of the snake. Then, ever so slowly, I inched closer to the drain until I could see down to where the cobra had been. It was still there!

I settled down with camera at the ready and watched the snake. It seemed oblivious to my presence, which is unusual for this shy species. This was a little concerning as I didn’t want it to get a surprise at close range and feel the need to defend itself.

The cobra seemed to be distracted. It was a little obsessed with the location, but I couldn’t see the reason for its obsession. The snake moved up the mossy wall of the drain where it moved its head from side to side as if trying to pick up a scent.

The cobra positioned itself at the small opening of a sub-drain. It’s pink tongue contrasted against the shiny black as it danced in and out of its mouth. This snake was hunting!

I wondered what it could sense. I had seen many creatures in the drain that could easily make a meal for a hungry cobra. Was it a frog, a skink, a mouse, a rat or perhaps the favourite meal of the Singapore Equatorial Spitting cobras, an Asian toad?

The cobra’s head disappeared into the hole. I watched as the snake’s skin shimmered and rippled as the cobra appeared to be working on something. I stood up and walked over to it for a close look while it’s head was in the hole. I had always thought that these snakes were a villainous shiny black, but as the skin tightened and flexed I could see a rainbow of purples, blues and greens revealed by the sunlight.

I settled back down a few meters away. After a period of obvious effort, the cobra pulled its head out of the hole. I leaned forward and wound out the zoom lens, firing a couple of shots. As I moved the cobra suddenly realised I was there. It lifted its head, turning towards me. Our eyes met and the cobra’s tongue darted out urgently as it assessed the situation.

This was a delicate moment. If the cobra had been frightened for its life, it may have turned and fled the scene, disappearing into the drain pipe from whence it came. Alternatively, it may have reared up, opened up its famous hood, and, in a worse case scenario, spat venom at my eyes.

The Equatorial Spitting cobra gets its name from its unusual ability to squirt venom into its victims eyes as a defensive weapon. Studies have shown that this 1.2 meter long snake can accurately spit its neurotoxic venom over 2 meters, and even compensates for its enemies movement by targeting where the eyes will be at the time of impact, like a sniper aiming at a moving target. A single bite from this snake has the potential to be fatal without immediate medical assistance and maybe even with medical assistance.

Having faced off for several minutes, the cobra appeared to sense that I was not a threat. It didn’t even feel the need to open its hood. Perhaps it had used its razor sharp senses to realise that we had met before and I had proved myself to be harmless. Instead, it returned to the task at hand, or in its case mouth, and got back to working with its head in the drain. I felt humbled by the amount of trust that it must have taken for this deadly cobra to completely take its senses off of me and leave its entire body exposed. The park was unusually devoid of people so the snake was able to work undisturbed for around 45 minutes.

Suddenly the cobra tensed and its body began to ripple and twist. There was an obvious increase in effort as the business end of the snake edged back towards the opening. I lifted my camera in anticipation of something, as yet unknown, being dragged from the drain. With a final heave, the snake pulled out the inflated body of an Asian toad.

I’ve seen images of Spitting cobras in Singapore eating a meal and it often seems to be a toad, it’s reasonable to assume that this is a favourite prey item. The toad has two defence mechanisms. It’s warty skin contains foul tasting toxins, that clearly were not a problem for the snake. It can also inflate its body to make it look bigger than it actually is. This tactic appeared to have been the cause of the snake’s frustration. The fact that the toad was extracted upside down suggests that the wedged body needed to be twisted out before popping free like a cork from a bottle.

The cobra’s shiny black eye looked visibly excited or whatever the snake version of happy is. At this point there was no distracting the snake from consuming the meal that it had worked so hard for. Spending an hour leaving its soft body blindly exposed whiles it venomous mouth worked on the toad in the hole was a risk that came with a tasty reward. That reward was being swallowed down the flexible throat at a faster rate than it came out from the confines of the drain hole.

The snake used the sloped wall of the storm drain to help push the meal in and its muscles took over once it was far enough into the mouth. The toad quickly was nothing more than a pair of legs and a few moments later was just a bump in a shiny black tube.

With the meal consumed, the cobra took a moment to realign its jaws and reset itself. It took a last look at me and turned, slithering up the walls of the storm drain and into a crack in the concrete. It was gone.

I watched the bluish black of the cobra tail disappearing out of sight. It felt like I took the first deep breath I’d taken in an hour. My knees and back creaked upright and I stood for a few moments with an ear to ear grin on my face. It had been a truly wonderful, and unique encounter.

As I walked back towards home I reflected on the moment when the cobra realised that I was there, and how it went on to allow itself to be vulnerable while catching and devouring its meal. Naja Sumatrana is not the stuff of nightmares and is certainly not a monster that needs to be killed before it kills. It is a very shy and highly intelligent being that plays a vital role in the ecosystem. It controls disease by controlling pest populations around our dwellings. If you’re fortunate enough to see the Equatorial Spitting Cobra, stand still or step back and enjoy the company of this captivating creature.

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Categories: Asia, SingaporeTags: animals, Nature, photography, Reptiles, Singapore, Travel, wildlife