The natives mention a very singular little snake, about seven or eight inches long, possessing four distinct legs, each provided with toes and nails like a lizard. It is difficult to conceive for what purpose these limbs (which are placed somewhat apart, and rather to the side, as in the seal) have been destined by nature, since they are apparently never used. The motion of this curious creature, which is of a dark slate color, is said to be that of a perfect snake. Three specimens were brought at different times to Mr. Hahn when at Barmen.
The story of the cockatrice, so common in many parts of the world, is also found among the Damaras; but instead of crowing, or, rather, chuckling like a fowl when going to roost, they say it bleats like a lamb. It attacks man as well as beast, and its bite is considered fatal. They point to the distant north as its proper home. In Timbo’s country it is termed “hangara,” and is said to attain to twelve feet, or even more, in length, with a beautifully variegated skin. On its head, like the Guinea-fowl, it has a horny protuberance of a reddish color. It dwells chiefly in trees. Its chuckle is heard at nightfall; and people, imagining that the noise proceeds from one of their own domestic fowls that has strayed, hasten to drive it home. But this frequently causes their destruction; for, as soon as the cockatrice perceives its victim within reach, it darts at it with the speed of lightning; and if its fangs enter the flesh, death invariably ensues. Timbo informed me that he once saw a dog belonging to his father thus killed. Moreover, the cockatrice, like the wild dog, wantonly destroys more at a time than it can consume.
Notwithstanding the dryness of the soil and the atmosphere between the Orange River and the seventeenth or eighteenth degrees of south latitude, reptiles are rather numerous. Indeed, some parts of Damara-land are so infested by them as to be almost uninhabitable. For my own part, however, I have encountered comparatively few. I never saw the cobra di capella, though it does exist in these regions. It is common enough in the colony, and is even met with in the neighborhood of the Table Mountain.
An acquaintance of mine had a remarkable escape from this reptile. Being passionately fond of botany, he was one day studying the flora of the so-called “Cape Flats.” Having discovered a rare plant, he was stooping down to gather it, when up started a cobra immediately beneath his hand. My friend had no time to turn round, but retreated backward as quickly as his legs would carry him. The serpent, however, was fast gaining ground, and, had the chase lasted a few seconds longer, must inevitably have caught him; but just at this critical moment my friend stumbled over an ant-hill and fell to the ground on his back, and while in this position he saw, to his inexpressible relief, the enraged cobra dash furiously past him.
Pringle says that this snake has been known to dart at a man on horseback, and “with such force as to overshoot its aim.” The average length of a full-grown specimen I believe to be about five feet.
The puff-adder (vipera inflata) was not uncommon in Namaqua-land and Damara-land. My saddle-ox had an exceedingly narrow escape from being bitten by one. The reptile was lying at length across the path, and I did not discover it until the ox almost trod on it. Any serpent less slow in its movements must have fixed its fangs in the animal. Another time a woman, the wife of a native servant of mine, found one of these horrid creatures comfortably sleeping in the folds of her skin apron.
Notwithstanding its venomous character, the puff-adder, from its inert, heavy, and sluggish habits, is comparatively harmless. The only real danger arises from treading on it. This, however, is not always easy to avoid, since its color so much resembles the ground.
When about to seize its prey or attack the enemy, the puff-adder is said to be unable to dart forward, but, on the other hand, to possess the faculty of throwing itself backward with unerring certainty.
Different species of what the Dutch term “schaap-steker,” or sheep-stinger;[57] “boom-slang,” or tree-snake; “ringel-hals,” or ring-throat; “the spuig-slang,” or spitting-snake;[58] the “zwart-slang,” or black-snake,[59] &c., are also occasionally met with, but none of these are very poisonous. The spuig-slang, however, is much dreaded by the colonist, less for its bite—which, though venomous, is not fatal—but from its peculiar habit of projecting a jet of poison to a distance of several feet toward the eyes of any person who may happen to approach its haunts, the result of which is usually loss of sight.
The common people at the Cape have some very singular notions and superstitions about the different reptiles indigenous to the Cape Colony, but more especially with regard to the zwart-slang. Our wagon-driver told us that this snake is very fond of women’s milk, and solemnly declared that he had known several instances where it has entered people’s dwellings at night, and if it met with a sleeping mother, has dexterously abstracted her milk. I remember a somewhat similar story having been told me by the peasantry of some parts of Sweden, who state that to kill a snake was not alone a duty, but an expiatory sacrifice, since “seven sins” would be forgiven an individual for each serpent slain by him. Accordingly, in the credulity of my childish days, I was a perfect Thalaba!