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CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
LOOK BEFORE YOU STEP: 'WARE SNAKES.
Coffee was gathering strength every day, and the wounds in his healthy young flesh healing rapidly. So much better was he that there was no occasion to study him any longer on the question of danger in moving, so the well-fed oxen were in-spanned, and a few more treks brought the party to one of the tributaries of the Limpopo, whose main stream they hoped to reach on the following day.
The country here was much less regular, and the work for the oxen grew more difficult, but they found capital quarters, with plenty of good gra.s.s, strong thorn bush for a kraal; and as the place promised sport, and plenty of natural history specimens amongst the rocks and rifts into which the land was broken, Mr Rogers determined to rest here for a day or two.
So a kraal was formed, the cattle sent to graze; the boys mounted Shoes and Stockings, and starting to get something in the way of game, were pretty successful, bringing in a plump young bok; and as evening came on and they were resting, Dinny suddenly made his appearance with a long stout stick and a line.
"I've been looking," he said, "and there's some moighty foine water close by here, and a bit of salmon wouldn't be amiss."
"There are no salmon here, Dinny," said d.i.c.k.
"Then there are some good big fish, anyhow," said Dinny; and he went off some fifty or sixty yards to where the narrow little stream ran at the bottom of rather a steep declivity.
"Mind you don't have any of the gintlemen throwing stones at you, Dinny," shouted d.i.c.k.
"Ah, you'd better be careful," said Mr Rogers, smiling; "Those rocks look a likely place for baboons."
"Whist, schah!" exclaimed Dinny contemptuously; "as if I'd be afraid of a monkey;" and he soon disappeared from sight.
The soft coolness of the evening was creeping on, the occupants of the little camp were restfully listening to the _crop_, _crop_! of the cattle, and Mr Rogers was about to give orders for them to be driven into the kraal, when the peace of the camp was broken by a loud cry from towards the little river.
"Murther! help! masther dear. Help, or it's dead I'll be!" yelled the familiar voice of Dinny.
Guns always lay handy, and they were seized, and all ran towards where Dinny was yelling for help, a sharp look out being kept for baboons.
"I dare say they've attacked him," said Mr Rogers. "They are very vicious, and tremendously strong. Why, where is he? Dinny! Dinny!"
"Hee-ar! Help!" cried Dinny. And running in the direction of the sound, they came upon Dinny's boot-soles, and were just in time to save him from gliding into the little river, head first, the tuft of gra.s.s to which he was clinging having given way.
"An' did ye see the murthering baste?" cried Dinny, who looked white through his sunburning.
"No, I saw nothing," cried Mr Rogers.
"Ah, but he's down there in the muddy water. Shure I'd caught one great ugly fat fish like an overgrown son of an eel; there he lies where he wriggled himself," said Dinny, pointing to a fine silurus lying in a niche of the rock. "And I'd hooked another, when a great baste of a thing wid the wickedest oi ye ever see, and a smile as wide as the mouth of the Shannon, came up and looked at me. `Oh, murther!' I says; and he stared at me, and showed me what a fine open countenance he had; and just then the big fish I'd hooked made a dash, and gave such a tug that I slipped as I lay head downwards, bechuckst thim two bits o' bushes, and I couldn't get meself back agin."
"Why, there's the fish on the line still," cried Jack, seizing the rough rod, and trying to land the captive of Dinny's hook.
"Ah, and ye'll take care, Masther d.i.c.k, for I belave it's that great baste has swallowed the fish, and ye'll be pulling him to land."
Dinny was not right; and full of excitement, Jack was trying hard to land the fish, when there was a rush and a swirl in the water, and as they caught sight of the head and jaws of a good-sized crocodile the line was snapped, and the little party stood gazing at the muddy stream.
"Shure an' that's him," said Dinny. "Did ye ever see such a baste?"
"A warning not to bathe," said Mr Rogers; and after watchfully waiting to see if the reptile would give them an opportunity for a shot, they walked back to the camp, Dinny carrying his fish, and bemoaning the loss of the other and his tackle.
"How big should you think that was, father?" said d.i.c.k.
"About twelve feet long, to judge from the size of his head," said Mr Rogers. "You must be careful, boys, and mind that the cattle are watched when they go down to drink. The crocodiles are most objectionable beasts, and I suppose the Limpopo and its tributaries swarm with them."
They seemed now to have got into quite a reptilian paradise. Low down by the river the land was swampy, hot, and steamy to a degree; and here amidst the long rank reeds, canes, and herbage the crocodiles revelled, while water-lizards of great size made their tracks along the banks.
Higher up out of the ravine where the river ran, the land was rocky and full of nooks and corners, which the sun seemed literally to bake. Here came flies innumerable, buzzing and stinging viciously when their abode was invaded, and over and about the sun-parched rocks the various kinds of lizards swarmed, and preyed upon the flies and beetles.
They were very beautiful, these flies and beetles, and lizards--the former with their brilliant colours and gauzy wings, the latter in their jewelled and polished armour, often of the most brilliant metallic tints, and always glistening in the sun.
Hundreds of the brightly armoured beetles were captured, and transferred to the boxes kept for the purpose; but it was dangerous work, for poisonous snakes lurked amongst these sun-baked rocks, twisted in sleepy knots, and so like in hue to the stones amongst which they lay that a foot might at any moment be inadvertently placed upon them.
Jack had an adventure of this kind the very day after their arrival.
There had been some talk of going, as the General proposed, after one or other of the herds of antelope feeding upon a plain a couple of miles distant; but Mr Rogers said the larder was well filled, and his idea of a pleasant hunting trip was not one where mere butchery was the rule, but where a sufficiency was killed for their daily use.
"By all means, let us destroy such noxious animals as we come across,"
he said; "and I am keen sportsman enough to want to shoot some of the large game; but let us be naturalists, boys, and not simply slayers of all we see."
The result was that they spent that day collecting insects and small reptiles, Chicory accompanying them to carry a large open-mouthed bottle of spirits with stopper and sling, and the gla.s.s protected by a stout network of soft copper wire.
Into this spirit-bottle little vipers, scorpions, spiders, and similar creatures, were dropped, Chicory holding the stopper, and throwing back his head and grinning with delight as some wriggling little poisonous creature was popped in. In fact, Chicory was an indefatigable hunter of great things and small, taking readily to natural history pursuits; but he had his drawbacks, one of which was a belief that the little snakes and tiny lizards dropped into the spirits of wine were to make some kind of soup; and he had to be stopped just in time to prevent his well amalgamating the contents of the great flask by giving it a good shake up.
"Dere's one, Boss d.i.c.k. Dere's nother one, Boss Jack," he kept on saying, his quick restless eyes discovering the various objects long before his English companions.
They were up in one of the superheated rifts among the rocks, with the sun pouring down so powerfully that the whole party were very languid and disposed to seek the first shelter, when an incident that might have had a fatal termination came upon them like a shot.
Jack was in advance, and about to climb up to a shelf of rock in pursuit of some brilliant little lizards that were darting in and out of the crevices when Chicory shouted out,--
"Boss Jack! mind snake!"
It was too late. There was a great dust-coloured puff-adder lying in his way, with its thick clumsy body nestled in amongst the hot stones; and even as the Zulu boy's warning was uttered, Jack's boot pressed heavily upon the lower part of the dangerous reptile's body.
Sluggish and dull before, this a.s.sault brought the reptile into a state of activity that was almost wonderful, and before Jack could realise his peril the short thick viper had struck twice at his leg. Before, however, it could strike again, its head lay upon the stones, cut off by a blow from Chicory's long-bladed a.s.segai, and the body of the dangerous beast was writhing amongst and rattling the stones.
"Chicory 'fraid he broke a bottle," said the boy, who had dropped it in his excitement.
But the flask and its natural history contents formed a very minor consideration just then.
"Are you hurt, my boy?" cried Mr Rogers quickly. "Sit down there.
Here, d.i.c.k, the spirit-flask. Now then, draw up your trouser-leg."
Jack obeyed, and Mr Rogers immediately stripped down the lad's rough worsted stocking, taking out his penknife and preparing to make the tiny punctures bleed freely, and to suck the fatal poison from the wounds.
"Does it pain you much?" said Mr Rogers excitedly; and his hands trembled for a moment, but only to grow strong directly.
"No," said Jack stoically.
"Don't be afraid, my boy; be a man. Now where was it?"
"I won't be afraid," replied Jack. "I won't mind the knife, father."