“Then, Dick, they are wrong,” he answered quietly. “The posterior teeth certainly resemble fangs, but they are perfectly harmless, and are merely used to seize their prey. Yes,” he added, after a closer inspection, “it is the Bucephalus Capensis, or, as these people call it, the Boomslange. It is generally found upon trees, where it goes in search of food. Here, draw back awhile and watch; you may perhaps see a proof of that fascination which has so often been spoken about, respecting these reptiles’ eyes.”
As he spoke our attention was attracted by the piercing cries of several birds which were flying as if in abject terror about the tree, while the Boomslange coiled about the branch, its head raised about ten inches, its mouth open, its throat inflated, fixed its full large eyes upon the poor little trembling victims. Fascinated ourselves by the sight, we watched anxiously the result.
Round and round the poor flutterers went, each time, I perceived, drawing nearer the cruel mouth, till I shuddered as one, with a sweep, almost touched the reptile’s lips—the next moment, drawn by that wonderful and inexplicable fascination, it was in its terrible jaws; and, unable to bear it longer, I let fly my knob-kerrie, striking the snake from the tree, but I did not hurt him much, for, with the speed of light, he had wriggled into the bush, carrying its miserable prey in its mouth.
The sight made us loth to sit down near the spot again, so we returned to the kraal, Mr Ferguson telling us on the way, that a few days back, he, with a party of Kaffirs, had come across a python; but the natives would not touch it, owing to a superstition they have, that misfortune would be sure to overtake any one who injured these monstrous reptiles.
On reaching the huts, we found the Kaffirs busily engaged in restoring the ruined ones, so we lent them our aid, and thus managed both to win their favour and while away the time, which, owing to my anxiety respecting Metilulu’s answer, I found hang heavily on my hands. At the dinner hour, however, we went to the minister’s hut, which had still been left him, where, after refreshing ourselves, we remained talking of that never-tiring subject, home, and waiting the chief’s reply.
It was quite sunset before the latter arrived, then Tugela brought it.
Metilulu had sent me permission to leave for the white settlement when I pleased, and also gave for a guide the warrior whose life he had that day spared because of our prayers.
“Did he grant this willingly, Tugela?” I asked.
“Not at all; he seems much vexed.”
“I am sorry,” I said, “for I must go. Well, Tugela, express my sincere thanks to Metilulu, and say that I have no means now of showing my gratitude, but, if he will allow me, I should like to send him back by the guide some presents, if he would honour me by their acceptance.”