Jack was more than half inclined to take some pieces of the game along, so that we might have constrictor-cutlets for supper or breakfast. Harry and I opposed the idea, and told him he would have to eat alone if he did so; thereupon he abandoned the proposition. I can add by the way that I have eaten snakes of various kinds, and they are by no means bad eating, provided you are hungry and cannot get anything else.
My first experience in the serpent-eating line was on the North American plains, in a region where rattlesnakes abounded. Fresh provisions were scarce; and one day, when I was traveling with a party of mounted soldiers, we made our camp right in a colony of rattlesnakes, though we did not discover it until after all the tents had been pegged out and the camp arranged. We killed about thirty rattlers between the time we went into camp and sunset, and a dozen more were slaughtered during the night. The soldiers skinned the snakes, and served them up at breakfast under the name of "prairie-eels." Had they been called rattlesnakes I might have relucted, but as prairie-eels they were decidedly toothsome; the flesh looked like chicken, and tasted a good deal like it, too. I confess to a prejudice against eating snakes, but would rather do so any time than go downright hungry.
When we reached camp everything was quiet. Our cook had prepared us a very good supper, but after our bountiful feast with the amazons we could not do justice to it. There were, however, plenty of yawning mouths in the camp where it was welcome, and nothing was left over to be warmed up the next morning.
During the night we were disturbed by a troop of lions that tried to get into the kraal for a waltz among the oxen. They made several efforts to penetrate the thorny fence of the kraal, but were unsuccessful, though they disturbed the oxen a good deal and set them to bellowing in terror. We went out in the hope of bringing down one or more of the prowlers, but the night was so dark that we could not make out their forms distinctly. We fired where we thought we saw them, and brought forth a terrific roar, but we did not see anything drop.
Bright and early the next morning our manager began searching for the spoor of the lions, and easily made it out. He followed the retreating spoor for a good half-mile to where it led into a thicket of thorns. There he abandoned the chase, as he saw no blood upon the spoor to show that our bullets had told; and, furthermore, he had not lost any lions, as he remarked when he got back to camp. I admired his discretion, as he would have been decidedly at a disadvantage had he entered the thicket and found the lions waiting for him.
We breakfasted early in the morning, in order to be promptly at the rendezvous for the hunt with our friends. We were there on time, and so were they, and all were equipped for business. The ladies were habited as they were when I first met them in the forest—that is, incased in loose trousers and tunic, with gloves to match, and with dust-colored sola topees on their heads. They were accompanied by trackers, gun-bearers, and their after-rider, and they had brought along two dogs and two oxen as a part of their equipment.
When our salutations were over Jack apologized for being inquisitive, but said he would like to know how they proposed to utilize dogs and oxen in hunting giraffes.
"We don't know that we shall utilize them," replied Mrs. Roberts, "but we brought them along thinking they might be handy, on the principle set down by the lamented Toodles."
"You may laugh at us," said Miss Boland, "but I've done a little hunting with those oxen since we started out, and quite successfully, too."
"Have you hunted giraffes with them?" queried Jack.