We rode on for some hours, until the pangs of hunger and the necessity of resting ourselves made us resolve to stop. I was fortunate enough to kill a good-sized monkey, which was grinning down at us from a bough close above our heads; and we also found as much wild fruit as we required. So, having reached the banks of a stream, where we and our horses could get water, and where there was abundance of grass, we halted, and quickly had a fire lighted, and part of our monkey roasting before it. The other part I had given to Lion, who was quite ready to eat it uncooked. We again moved forward, but we both felt very doubtful whether we were going right. For my own part, I know but few sensations so disagreeable as the idea that one has lost one's way. We were passing along a low sandy spot, with high bushes and trees on either side, when Captain Laffan's horse gave a sudden start; and looking down, we saw a small shiny snake gliding away. The horse had evidently been bitten, for we could see the mark of the creature's fangs above the fetlock, and soon the leg began to swell. The poor animal proceeded with the greatest difficulty. What remedies to apply we neither of us knew, but we had heard of the existence of a small snake called the aranas, the poison from whose fangs is so subtle that animals bitten often die within an hour; and even when remedies are applied, few are ever saved. "The creature might have bitten either of ourselves," I observed. "I do not think this species ever attacks man,--though I should not like to put the matter to the test," answered Captain Laffan. There was no use in our stopping, especially as there might be other snakes of the same kind in the neighbourhood. We therefore, as long as the poor horse could move, pushed forward; but its pace became more and more sluggish, as the limb continued to swell. At length the animal stopped altogether, and my companion, feeling it tremble, leaped off. Scarcely had he done so when it came to the ground, and lay struggling in violent convulsions. Mr Laffan contrived to take off the saddle before it was damaged. In a few minutes, foaming at the mouth, the horse died, evidently in great pain. "No use groaning over what cannot be helped," observed the captain. "You take the saddle, and put it before you; I'll carry the bridle; and I must try to get another horse as soon as possible." The delay was serious, but it could not be helped; so we moved along, Mr Laffan trudging by my side. I asked him to get up, but he positively refused to do so.