Junkie at the same moment, as it were, took up the cry. To be thus robbed of his new-found pet would have tried a better temper than his. Without a moment’s hesitation he rushed at Frank Dobson and commenced violently to kick his shins, while he soundly belaboured his knees with the still wriggling tail of the poor snake.
“What a blessing!” exclaimed Mrs Brook, grasping Dobson gratefully by the hand.
“What a mercy!” murmured Gertie, catching up the infant Hercules and taking him off to the cottage.
“What a rumpus!” growled Dally, taking himself off to the kitchen.
Scholtz gave no immediate expression to his feelings, but, lifting his better half from the grass, he tucked her under one of his great arms, and, with the muttered commentary, “zhe shrieckz like von mad zow,” carried her off to his own apartment, where he deluged her with cold water and abuse till she recovered.
“Your arrival has created quite a sensation, Dobson,” said Edwin Brook, with a smile, as they walked up to the house.
“Say, rather, it was opportune,” said Mrs Brook; “but for your prompt way of using the knife our darling might have been bitten. Oh! I do dread these snakes, they go about in such a sneaking way, and are so very deadly. I often wonder that accidents are not more frequent, considering the numbers of them that are about.”
“So do I, Mrs Brook,” returned Dobson; “but I suppose it is owing to the fact that snakes are always most anxious to keep out of man’s way, and few men are as bold as your Junkie. I never heard of one being collared before, though a friend of mine whom I met on my last visit to the karroo used sometimes to catch hold of a snake by the tail, whirl it round his head, and dash its brains out against a tree.”
“You’ll stay with us to-day, Dobson!” said Brook.
Frank, involuntarily casting a glance at the pretty face of Gertie—who had by that time attained to the grace of early womanhood,—accepted the invitation, and that day at dinner entertained the family with graphic accounts of his experiences among the wild beasts of the Great Fish River jungles, and dilated on his prospects of making a fortune by trading in ivory. “If that foolish law,” he said, “had not been made by our Governor, prohibiting traffic with the Kafirs, I could get waggon-loads of elephants’ tusks from them for an old song. As it is, I must knock over the elephants for myself—at least until the laws in question are rescinded.”