South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878
The baboons got the best of the fight,--poor Woden was ridden off the
field by two jabbering jockeys on his back, who laboured his sides
most unmercifully with tooth and nail. Dhula was too nimble and clever
with his teeth to be caught, nevertheless he had to submit from his
many persecutors with the loss of several inches of his tail. Fly, a
remarkably fine red Kaffir bitch, which I afterwards took home and gave
to the Zoological Gardens, was ripped up and her sides laid bare. But
the worst of all occurred to poor Dash: he was carried of by a huge
baboon almost as big as a totty, and I arrived to his rescue too late.
I saw that he was dead, and forthwith shot his destroyer upon him.
Napoleon made good use of his assegai and my spade; and after a fight
far more exciting than glorious, we remained masters of the field.
I am thoroughly convinced, had the baboons shown any unity of action, I
should not have been relating this incident to-day.
These are about the only events in my sporting life at the Cape worthy
of narration; many milder incidents occurred which I pass over, judging
them insufficient to be of interest to the reader.
I know but little about snakes--they were of almost everyday
acquaintance; but as neither my men nor I were ever bitten by one,
I have nothing sensational to write about them. One short episode I
may perhaps relate. In creeping over some rocks to have a shot at a
stein-buck, I cautiously looked over a ledge of stone, and fancying
there was a curious garlic smell about the place, I looked down, and
there, lazily stretched out at full length, almost touching my throat,
was a huge cobra di capello. I drew back much less hesitatingly than
I had peeped, and, retiring a few feet, shot it as it was rearing its
head in the act of preparing to strike. This little event gave the
hitherto slight attention I had paid them a more repulsive form, and
ever afterwards I destroyed all that came in my way. Up to that day I
had handled them as I had seen others do--henceforth their touch became
too loathsome. Kaffirs believe that after a puff-adder, whip-snake, or
cobra has bitten, it must within a short space of time wash out its
mouth with water (which these snakes invariably do, if it is at hand),
else it would die from the poison that oozes afterwards from its fangs.
They also think that white men, if bitten by snakes, invariably cause
the death of the snake itself--for they say the white man’s blood is
poisonous to all serpents.
CHAPTER XII.
KAFFIR KNOWLEDGE OF SURGERY--MANNERS MORE ARTIFICIAL THAN
NATURAL--PEACE CONCLUDED WITH SANDILLI AND MACOMO--INDIFFERENT
CHARACTER OF THE TREATY OF PEACE--THE CORPS DISBANDED--THANKS
OF COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF--RETURN TOWARDS THE CAPE--ADDRESSES FROM
THE INHABITANTS OF FORT BEAUFORT AND GRAHAM’S TOWN--ENGINEERING
TASTES--SAM ROWE--THE MARY JANE--I EMBARK FOR CAPE TOWN.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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