The Sambos have a singular custom, unfavorable, certainly, to the raising of cattle, which Mr. H. had not yet entirely succeeded in suppressing. Whenever a native is proved guilty of adultery, the injured party immediately goes out in the savannah and shoots a beeve, without regard to its ownership. The duty of paying for it then devolves upon the adulterer, and constitutes the penalty for his offence!
Nearly all the Sambos at the Cape speak a little English, and I never passed their huts without being saluted “Mornin’, sir; give me grog!” In fact their devotion to grog, and general improvident habits, are fast thinning their numbers, and will soon work their utter extermination. Although there are several places near the settlement where all needful supplies might be raised, yet they are chiefly dependent on the Indians of the river for their vegetables.
HUNTING DEER.
There is little game on the savannah, but on the strip of land which separates the harbor from the sea, and which is called the island of San Pio, deer are found in abundance. This island is curiously diversified with alternate patches of savannah, bush, and marsh, and offers numerous coverts for wild animals. The deer, however, are only hunted by the few whites who live at the Cape, and they have hit upon an easy and novel mode of procuring their supply. The deer are not shy of cattle, and will feed side by side with them in the savannahs. So Mr. H. had trained a favorite cow to obey reins of cord attached to her horns, as a horse does his bit. Starting out, and keeping the cow constantly between himself and the deer, he never has the slightest difficulty in approaching so close to them as to shoot them with a pistol. If there are more than one, the rest do not start off at the discharge, but only prick up their ears in amazement, and thus afford an opportunity for another shot, if desired. I witnessed this labor-saving mode of hunting several times, and found that H. and his cow never failed of their object.
While upon the subject of game, I may mention that San Pio abounds with birds and water-fowl. Among them are two varieties of snipe, beside innumerable curlews, ducks, and teal. The blue and green-winged teal were great favorites of mine, being always in good condition. They were not obtained, however, without the drawback of exposure to the sand-flies, which infest the island in uncountable millions. The European residents always have a supply of turtles, which are purchased at prices of from four to eight yards of Osnaberg, equal to from one to two dollars, according to their size. Two kinds of oysters are also obtained here, one called the “bank oyster,” corresponding with those which I obtained in Pearl Cay Lagoon, and the little mangrove oysters. The latter are about the size of half a dollar, and attach themselves to the roots of the mangrove-trees. It is a question whether a hungry man, having to open them for himself, might not starve before getting satisfied. A few hundreds, with a couple of Indians to open them, make a good, but moderate, lunch!
The bay and river swarm with fish, of the varieties which I have enumerated as common on the coast. During still weather they are caught with seines, in large quantities. These seines belong to the foreigners, but are drawn by the natives (when they happen to be hungry!), who receive half of the spoil.
Mr. H. was not a little piqued at my incredulity in the Sukias, and, faithful to his promise, persuaded one of them to give us an example of her powers. The place was the enclosure in the rear of his own house, and the time evening. The Sukia made her appearance alone, carrying a long thick wand of bamboo, and with no dress except the ule tournou. She was only inferior to her sister at Sandy Bay, in ugliness, and stalked into the house like a spectre, without uttering a word. H. cut off a piece of calico, and handed it to her as her recompense. She received it in perfect silence, walked into the yard, and folded it carefully on the ground. Meanwhile a fire had been kindled of pine splints and branches, which was now blazing high. Without any hesitation the Sukia walked up to it, and stepped in its very centre. The flames darted their forked tongues as high as her waist; the coals beneath and around her naked feet blackened, and seemed to expire; while the tournou which she wore about her loins, cracked and shriveled with the heat. There she stood, immovable, and apparently as insensible as a statue of iron, until the blaze subsided, when she commenced to walk around the smouldering embers, muttering rapidly to herself, in an unintelligible manner. Suddenly she stopped, and placing her foot on the bamboo staff, broke it in the middle, shaking out, from the section in her hand, a full-grown tamagasa snake, which, on the instant coiled itself up, flattened its head, and darted out its tongue, in an attitude of defiance and attack. The Sukia extended her hand, and it fastened on her wrist with the quickness of light, where it hung, dangling and writhing its body in knots and coils, while she resumed her mumbling march around the embers. After a while, and with the same abruptness which had marked all of her previous movements, she shook off the serpent, crushed its head in the ground with her heel, and taking up the cloth which had been given to her, stalked away, without having exchanged a word with any one present.
Mr. H. gave me a triumphant look, and asked what now I had to say. “Was there any deception in what I had seen?” I only succeeded in convincing him that I was a perversely obstinate man, by suggesting that the Sukia was probably acquainted with some antidote for the venom of the serpent, and that her endurance of the fire was nothing more remarkable than that of the jugglers, “fire kings,” and other vagrants at home, who make no pretence of supernatural powers.