He was proud of the red skin, so he tied
Its tail to the cart, and the snake’s blood dyed
The bush on the path he followed that night.
He was early home, and the dead dukite
Was flung at the door to be skinned next day.
At sunrise next morning he started away
To hunt up his cattle. A three hours’ ride
Brought him back; he gazed on his home with pride
And joy in his heart; he jumped from his horse
And entered—to look on[1220] his young wife’s corse,