Grew up with those in San Antonio. Grandfather killed at least one a day on his place when he moved in-as many as twelve a day killed-almost all with his belt vice a gun.
Just about hate them save they eat rats & mice. Often they do not rattle at night when hunting. Grandmother and uncle bit, both of their leg's skin was sliced up and down due to the swelling. Venom contains hemo (blood) and neurotoxins. Near the Alamo was a cowboy shop with a stuffed rattle snake that grew large living off of a prairie dog town-over eight feet long (no kidding), very fat -as big as any constrictor you have ever seen up close.
Once I was building barb wire fence & steel fence posts for my grandfather at the front of the place, a long ways from any buildings, but along a heavy traffic road. When nature called, I grabbed the TP, went into the brush and looked REAL close at my chosen spot, nothing there.
Half way thru doing the do, and a tiny rattle went off beneath me, nearly between my legs. That **** went back inside me when I puckered up and jumped two feet straight up and away. Carl Lewis could not have caught me running away even though I sprinted away with my underwear and pants still around my ankles-faster than ****.
I Couldn't poop for over an hour afterwards. I did regain my dignity, grabbed a branch, and went back to kill the creature that put an image of venomous fangs sinking into my scrotum-but that little dude was scared gone too!