We were generally told that centipede bites were not fatal, but two informants said that they each heard of a person dying following a centipede bite; a young boy and a priest, but were unable to provide specific details. Field Observations on three scolopendrid centipedes from Mauritius and Rodrigues (Indian Ocean). Lewis et al. 2010. International Journal of Myriapodology 3:123-137
I don’t know much about invertebrates in general and I think this is the one I came across in Madagascar, but, as you’ll see later, my encounter with it was brief, so my identification of it is shaky. The species is found widely in tropical and subtropical regions where it is native and has been accidently introduced.
This is a brownish centipede with a brown head and greenish both. The first segment is typically a lighter color than the rest of the body, which is long, flat, and composed of 21 body segments. There is one pair of legs per body segment. The antennae of this centipede are quite long and easily visible. The poisonous jaws are hidden beneath the head. The jaws are attached to a venom gland, a venom duct, ending in the curved, venom injecting jaws. Powerful muscles drive these pointy clamps. The hind legs are prominent but are non-venomous and used for clamping onto prey.
Juveniles and adults live alone and are most active in the evening. During the day they hide out in dark and dank places, under logs and rocks, beneath the leaf litter, and in crevices. If it is too hot or cold, of if their hiding place is disturbed, they may seek shelter inside a house and seek dark places – closets, under bedding, or (yikes) inside a shoe. They prefer areas of high humidity such as bathrooms, basements, or other damp areas. This large centipede is not aggressive towards people and will only bite if disturbed or threatened. Adults are typically 6-7.5 inches long, kind of substantial for a creepy-crawly thing.
When humans are bit, two puncture wounds are evident and reaction from the venom can range from slight welling of the immediate area, with severe pain, to massive swelling of the affected limb. Medical attention is suggested for severe swelling. Resulting fatality is extremely rare but not unknown. Sigh. One observer, who for some reason has been bitten by other invertebrates such as tarantula hawks, bullet ants, and others; deemed the bite of a Scolopendra species as more painful and dangerous than he experienced before. For the details you can go here and advance to minute 14 of the video: Don’t do this at home
Human reaction to centipede bites can range from common symptoms of pain, necrosis, and edema to rare systematic effects, such as anaphylaxis, diaphoresis, chills, fever, nausea, coronary ischemia, and acute renal failure,
Centipede venom is a mix of several substance and typically include histamine, serotonin, cardiotoxin, and a quinoline alkaloid. The venom of centipedes are used in Chinese folks medicine for rheumatism, convulsions, tetanus, and other health issues. Over a four year period in Hawaii the bite of this centipede was responsible for and estimated 10% of hospital visits.
The species reaches maturity in its fourth year and can live up to 10 years. Adults molt once per year while faster growing juveniles undergo several growth stages and molts. During mating the male produces capsules containing mature sperm cells (spermatophores) that are transferred to the female and deposited in a reservoir (spermathecae) during mating. The female will fertilize her immature eggs and eventually deposit them in a dark, secluded area. She will guard the eggs until they hatch.
The Scolopendra genus prey on a variety of insects and other invertebrates. Larger specimens have been observed preying on frogs, tarantulas, lizards, birds, snakes, rodents, and bats. It is likely that a number of birds and reptiles feed upon these centipedes, and feral cats and chickens are known to prey upon them.
Scolopendra – Greek skolops, for thorn and enteron for earthworm, so an earthwork with thorns (fangs).
Connie and I were about 2 weeks into a month long journey through Madagascar and were in the southern portion of the island, just outside of Isalo National Park. We had gone for a long loop hike in the park, reminiscent of the canyonlands of southern Utah and were lounging around our small cabin. Just before dinner I went outside to collect some clothes that were drying on chairs. Earlier in the day I had seen a couple species of geckos skittering about, so in the fading light I had my eye out for them.
As I picked a pair of shorts off the chair I saw something dart across the porch and my “catch instinct” had me instantly bolt and grab it. It started biting me and it hurt, which I thought was odd for a gecko. I soon relented and dropped it and watched a 6 inch long centipede slink across the porch and out of sight. Oh-oh.
I went into the cabin and explained to Connie what happen. I’ve seen that look before – cocked head shaking. We looked at my index finger and there were two clear punctures with a little blood. Then the pain began. At first it was like a bad bee sting, then it got worse, and then worse again. I thought “It can’t get more intense than this!”. And then it did.
My palm started going numb, then my wrist, and then the lower part of my forearm. All the time it felt like someone had my finger in a vice and was slowly squeezing it while pushing a needle into the fingertip. By this time I was holding my finger and kinda hopping around. We decided to go to the front desk and ask for some ice, which they may or may not have.
A young Malagasy man and woman, both in their 20s were behind the desk. There was a French couple sitting in the lobby looking at their phones, making use of the limited WIFI. We don’t speak Malagasy and our French was limited to what Connie learned in high school, so conveying the recent events was a bit of a challenge.
Finally, the young woman reached beneath the desk and slapped a piece of paper on the surface and drew a cigar shape with legs coming out of both sides – “Bite you?” she said. I nodded yes and the couple exchanged a wide-eyed glance, she said something and disappeared around the corner. He said she was going to get “medicine”. I paced back and forth muttering, not too softly, a variety of choice expletives while holding my finger and hopping around. The pain had reached my wrist and the numbness to my elbow. The French couple, intrigued by the drama, put down their phones and watched.
The woman came back with a plastic liter bottle that once used to hold a soft drink, but now had no label. The inside of it was covered with an orange film as if it had been floating around in a flood and was now dried out. She took off the cap and thrust the opened bottle towards me and asked “This what bite you?”. Huh? I peered inside and at the bottom of the bottle, sitting in about three inches of its post mortem swill was a curled dead centipede. “Yes” I said. Or something similar.
At first I thought they were going to make me drink this concoction. My pain was not easing and I would have drank it and swallowed the centipede like the worm at the bottom of a tequila bottle if I thought it would help. Instead the young man instructed that I must puncture my fingertip to “make it bleed” before applying the medicine. He came around the desk with a thumb tack and I put out my finger but he shook his head and handed it to me. I tried desperately several times to pierce my painful finger but the tack was too dull. So they rousted up a sewing needle for me and OUCH, that did the trick.
With my finger dribbling blood they took a piece of gauze, placed it on the bottle opening, tuned to bottle upside down, and handed me the swill soaked gauze to place on my wound. I did and it was like dipping a cut in salt water. Man that hurt. After about 30 seconds of me dancing around they told me to do it again – I did, with the same result.
And then, slowly, the pain started to pull back from my arm, through my wrist, and after 20 minutes I was left with just a mildly throbbing finger. We thanked them and went back to our cabin where I took a pain-killer, something to help me sleep, and a couple ibuprofen. I fell asleep with my hand pointed skyward, propped against the headboard.
In the morning I went into the lobby to settle our bill. The young man from the night before was there and looked up. Seeing me he exclaimed – “Oh, you are not dead!” What? I said.
“Oh – just kidding” he replied. Malagasy humor. I thanked him again and gave him and his coworker a good tip.