This is the usual structure of a good arrow, but the weapons are not exactly alike. Some of them have only a single piece of bone by way of a head, while many are not armed with the triangular blade. Arrows that possess this blade are intended for war, and are not employed in the peaceful pursuit of game. Hunting arrows have the head shaped much like a spindle, or, to speak more familiarly, like the street boy’s “cat,” being tolerably thick in the middle and tapering to a point at each end. When not in actual use, the Bosjesman reverses the head, so that the poisoned end is received into the hollow shaft, and thus is debarred from doing useless harm. These heads are not nearly as thick as those which are used for war, neither do they need as much poison.

The Bosjesman quiver and arrows which are [illustrated] on page 247 were taken from the dead body of their owner, and were kindly sent to me by H. Dennett, Esq. They are peculiarly valuable, because they are in all stages of manufacture, and show the amount of labor and care which is bestowed on these weapons. There is first the simple reed, having both ends carefully bound with sinew to prevent it from splitting. Then comes a reed with a piece of bone inserted in one end. On the next specimen a small socket is formed at the end of the bone, in order to receive the ivory head; and so the arrows proceed until the perfect weapon is seen.

As to the poison which is used in arming the arrows, it is of two kinds. That which is in ordinary use is made chiefly of vegetable substances, such as the juice of certain euphorbias, together with the matter extracted from the poison-gland of the puff-adder, cobra, and other venomous serpents. In procuring this latter substance they are singularly courageous. When a Bosjesman sees a serpent which can be used for poisoning arrows, he does not kill it at once, but steals quietly to the spot where it is lying, and sets his foot on its neck. The snake, disturbed from the lethargic condition which is common to all reptiles, starts into furious energy, and twists and struggles and hisses, and does all in its power to inflict a wound on its foe. This is exactly what the Bosjesman likes, and he excites the serpent to the utmost pitch of fury before he kills it. The reason of this conduct is, that the desire to bite excites the poison-gland, and causes it to secrete the venomous substance in large quantities.

The Bosjesmans say that not only is the poison increased in volume, but that its venomous properties are rendered more deadly by exciting the anger of the reptile before it is killed. The materials for making this poison are boiled down in a primitive kind of pot made of a hollowed sandstone, and, when thoroughly inspissated, it assumes the color and consistency of pitch. It is put on very thickly, in some parts being about the eighth of an inch thick. In some arrows, the little triangular head is only held in its place by the poison itself, being merely loosely slipped into a notch and then cemented to the shaft with the poison. In this case it acts as a barb, and remains in the wound when the arrow is withdrawn.

In our climate the poison becomes hard, and is exceedingly brittle, cracking in various directions, and being easily pulverized by being rubbed between the fingers. But in the comparatively hot temperature of Southern Africa it retains its soft tenacity, and even in this country it can be softened before a fire and the cracked portions mended. It is very bitter, and somewhat aromatic in taste, and in this respect much resembles the dreaded wourali poison of tropical Guiana. In some places the poison bulb is common, and in its prime it is very conspicuous, being recognized at a considerable distance by the blue undulated leaves which rise, as it were, out of the ground, and spread like a fan. Soon, however, the leaves fall off and dry up, and nothing is seen but a short, dry stalk, which gives little promise of the bulb below.

In some parts of the Bosjesmans’ country, the juice of amaryllis is used for poisoning arrows, like that of euphorbia, and is then mixed with the venom extracted from a large black spider, as well as that which is obtained from serpents. An antidote for this mixed poison is not at present known to white men, and whether the Bosjesmans are acquainted with one is at present unknown. It would be a great boon, not only to science, but to the inhabitants of that part of Africa, if a remedy could be discovered, inasmuch as such a discovery would at once deprive the Bosjesman of the only means whereby he can render himself terrible to those who live in his neighborhood. Property would then be rendered comparatively safe, and the present chronic state of irregular warfare would be exchanged for peace and quiet. The twofold nature of the poison, however, renders such a discovery a matter of exceeding difficulty, as the antidote must be equally able to counteract the vegetable poison as well as the animal venom.

Terrible as is this mixed poison, the Bosjesman has another which is far more cruel in its effects. If a human being is wounded with an arrow armed with this poison, he suffers the most intolerable agony, and soon dies. Even if a small portion of this poison should touch a scratch in the skin, the result is scarcely less dreadful, and, in Livingstone’s graphic words, the sufferer “cuts himself, calls for his mother’s breast, as if he were returned in idea to his childhood again, or flies from human habitations a raging maniac.” The lion suffers in much the same way, raging through the woods, and biting the trees and the ground in the extremity of his pain. The poison which produces such terrible effects is simply the juice which exudes from a certain grub, called the N’gwa, or K’aa—the former title being used by Dr. Livingstone, and the latter by Mr. Baines, who has given great attention to this dread insect. His account of the insect is as follows:—

There is a tree called the Maruru papeerie, which is about the size of an ordinary elm, but which has its stems and branches covered with thorns. The wood of this tree is of very soft texture. Upon the Maruru papeerie are found the poison grubs, which are of a pale flesh-color, something like that of the silkworm, and about three quarters of an inch in length. One curious point in its habits is the singular covering with which it is invested. “We were much puzzled by a covering of green matter similar in color to the leaf it feeds on. At first we thought it was the first skin peeling off, as it lay in loose rolls parallel to the muscular rings of the body; it seemed gradually driven forward toward the head, where it formed a shield or hood, portions breaking off as it dried, and being replaced by fresh. At length we were enabled to decide that it must be the excrement of the creature, issuing not only in the usual manner, but from the pores that are scattered over nearly the whole of its body.

“When the grub attains a length of three quarters of an inch, this matter is more sparingly distributed, and is of a brownish color. In a short time the grub drops from the tree, and, burying itself about two feet below the surface, forms its cocoon of a thin shell of earth agglutinated round its body. Its entrails, or rather the whole internal juices, are, in all stages of its grubdom, of the most deadly nature, and, if brought in contact with a cut, or sore of any kind, cause the most excruciating agony.”

Through the kindness of Mr. Baines, who enriched my collection with some specimens of the N’gwa, I am enabled to present my readers with some figures of this dread insect. [Fig. 1] shows the N’gwa, or K’aa, of its natural size. The specimen was dry, shrivelled, and hard, but a careful administration of moisture caused it to relax its stiffened segments, and the wrinkled skin to become plump as in life.