Popular Adventure Tales Part 84

One point, however, was observed in making the kraal. Its door of opening was placed so that two of the three saplings stood like posts, one on each side of it; and an animal going into the enclosure must needs pa.s.s these two trees.

Now for the part the gun had to play.

The weapon was placed in a horizontal position against two of the saplings,--that is, the stock against the one outside the kraal, and the barrel against one of the door-posts, and there firmly lashed. In this position the muzzle was close to the edge of the entrance, and pointing directly to the sapling on the opposite side. It was at such a height as to have ranged with the heart of a hyena standing in the opening.

The next move was to adjust the string. Already a piece of stick, several inches in length, had been fixed to the small of the stock, and, of course, behind the trigger. This was fastened transversely, but not so as to preclude all motion. A certain looseness in its adjustment gave it the freedom required to be worked as a lever--for that was its design.

To each end of this little stick was fastened a string. One of these strings was attached to the trigger; the other, after being carried through the thimbles of the ramrod, traversed across the entrance of the kraal, and was knotted upon the opposite side to the sapling that stood there. This string followed the horizontal direction of the barrel, and was just "taut;" so that any farther strain upon it would act upon the little lever, and by that means pull the trigger; and then of course "bang" would go the roer.

When this string was adjusted, and the gun loaded and c.o.c.ked, the trap was set.

Nothing remained to be done but bait it. This was not a difficult task.

It consisted simply in placing a piece of meat or carca.s.s within the enclosure, and there leaving it to attract the prowling beasts to the spot.

When the gun had been set, Swartboy carried up the bait--the offal of an antelope killed that day--and flung it into the kraal; and then the party went quietly to their beds, without thinking more of the matter.

They had not slept a wink, however, before they were startled by the loud "crack" of the roer, followed by a short stifled cry that told them the gun-trap had done its work.

A torch was procured, and the four hunters proceeded to the spot. There they found the dead body of a huge "tiger-wolf" lying doubled up in the entrance, and right under the muzzle of the gun. He had not gone a step after receiving the shot--in fact, had hardly kicked before dying--as the bullet, wad, and all, had gone quite through his ribs and entered his heart, after making a large ugly hole in his side. Of course he must have been within a few inches of the muzzle, when his breast, pressing against the string, caused the gun to go off.

Having again loaded the roer, the hunters returned to their beds. One might suppose they would have dragged the suicidal hyena away from the spot, lest his carca.s.s should serve as a warning to his comrades, and keep them away from the trap. But Swartboy knew better than that.

Instead of being scared by the dead body of one of their kind, the hyenas only regard it as proper prey, and will devour it as they would the remains of a tender antelope!

Knowing this, Swartboy did not take the dead hyena away, but only drew it within the kraal to serve as a farther inducement for the others to attempt an entrance there.

Before morning they were once more awakened by the "bang" of the great gun. This time they lay still; but when day broke they visited their trap, and found that a second hyena had too rashly pressed his bosom against the fatal string.

Night after night they continued their warfare against the hyenas, changing the trap-kraal to different localities in the surrounding neighbourhood.

At length these creatures were nearly exterminated, or, at all events, became so rare and shy, that their presence by the camp was no longer an annoyance one way or the other.

About this time, however, there appeared another set of visitors, whose presence was far more to be dreaded, and whose destruction the hunters were more anxious to accomplish. That was a family of lions.

The spoor of these had been often seen in the neighbourhood; but it was some time before they began to frequent the camp. However, about the time the hyenas had been fairly got rid of, the lions took their place, and came every night, roaring about the camp in a most terrific manner.

Dreadful as these sounds were, the people were not so much afraid of them as one might imagine. They well knew that the lions could not get at them in the tree. Had it been leopards they might have felt less secure, as the latter are true tree-climbers; but they had seen no leopards in that country, and did not think of them.

They were not altogether without fear of the lions, however. They were annoyed, moreover, that they could not with safety descend from the tree after nightfall, but were every night besieged from sunset till morning.

Besides, although the cow and the quaggas were shut in strong kraals, they dreaded each night that the lions would make a seizure of one or other of these animals; and the loss of any one of them, but especially their valuable friend "old Graaf," would have been a very serious misfortune.

It was resolved, therefore, to try the gun-trap upon the lions, as it had succeeded so well with the hyenas.

There was no difference in the construction or contrivance of the trap.

The gun only had to be placed upon a higher level, so that its muzzle might be opposite the lion's heart, and the proper range was easily obtained. The bait, however, was not carca.s.s, but an animal freshly killed; and for this purpose an antelope was procured.

The result was as desired. On the first night the old male lion "breasted" the fatal string and bit the dust. Next night the lioness was destroyed in a similar way: and shortly after a full-grown young male.

The trap then lay idle for a while; but about a week after a half-grown "cub" was shot near the camp by Hendrik, no doubt the last of that family, as no lions were seen for a long time after.

A great enemy to night plunderers was that same gun-trap.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE WEAVER-BIRDS.

Now that the beasts of prey had been destroyed, or driven from about the camp, there was no longer any danger in that quarter, and the children could be left by themselves. Totty of course always stayed with them; while the four hunters went forth upon the chase of the elephant--each mounted upon his quagga.

They had done so many a time, and as no harm had happened to the children in their absence, such a course became habitual with them. Jan and Truey were cautioned not to stray far from the nwana, and always to climb to the tree, should they perceive any animal that might be dangerous. Before the destruction of the hyenas and lions, they had been used to remain altogether in the tree, while the hunters were absent.

But this had been quite an imprisonment to them; and now that the danger was not considered much, they were allowed to come down and play upon the gra.s.sy plain, or wander along the sh.o.r.e of the little lake.

On one occasion when the hunters were abroad, Truey had strayed down to the edge of the water. She was alone, if we except the company of the gazelle, which followed at her heels wherever she went. This pretty creature had grown to full size, and had turned out a great beauty, with large round eyes that had a lovely melting expression, like the eyes of Truey herself.

Well, as I have said, Truey was alone. Jan was busy near the bottom of the tree, working a new rod into his bird-cage, and Totty was out upon the plain herding "old Graaf"--so Truey and the pet springbok went strolling along by themselves.

Now Truey had not gone down to the water without an object. She had one.

She had gone to give her pet a drink, and collect some blue lilies for a bouquet. All this she had done, and still continued to walk along the sh.o.r.e.

On one side of the lake, and that the farthest from the nwana-tree, a low spit of land projected into the water. It had once been but a sand-bar, but gra.s.s had grown upon it, until a green turf was formed.

There was not over a square perch of it altogether, but it was not square in shape. On the contrary, it was of oval form, and much narrower nearest the land, where it formed a neck, or isthmus, not more than three feet in width. It was, in short, a miniature peninsula, which by a very little work with the spade could have been converted into a miniature island--had that been desired.

Now there is nothing very remarkable about a little peninsula projecting into a lake. In nearly every lake such a thing may be seen. But about this one there was something remarkable.

Upon its extreme end grew a tree of singular form and foliage. It was not a large tree, and its branches drooped downwards until their tips almost touched the water. The pendulous boughs, and long lanceolate silvery leaves, rendered it easy to tell what sort of tree it was. It was the weeping or Babylonian willow--so called, because it was upon trees of this species that the captive Jews hung their harps when they "sat and wept by the streams of Babel." This beautiful tree casts its waving shadow over the streams of South Africa, as well as those of a.s.syria; and often is the eye of the traveller gladdened by the sight of its silvery leaves, as he beholds them--sure indications of water--shining afar over the parched and thirsty desert. If a Christian, he fails not to remember that highly poetical pa.s.sage of sacred writing, that speaks of the willow of Babylon.

Now the one which grew upon the little peninsula had all these points of interest for little Truey--but it had others as well. Upon its branches that overhung the water a very singular appearance presented itself.

Upon these was suspended--one upon the end of each branch--a number of odd shaped objects, that hung drooping down until their lower ends nearly rested upon the surface of the water. These objects, as stated, were of a peculiar shape. At the upper ends--where they were attached to the branches--they were globe-shaped, but the lower part consisted of a long cylinder of much smaller diameter, and at the bottom of this cylinder was the entrance. They bore some resemblance to salad-oil bottles inverted, with their necks considerably lengthened; or they might be compared to the gla.s.s retorts seen in the laboratory of the chemist.

They were each twelve or fifteen inches in length, and of a greenish colour--nearly as green as the leaves of the tree itself. Were they its fruit?

No. The weeping willow bears no fruit of that size. They were not fruit.

They were nests of birds!

Yes; they were the nests of a colony of harmless finches of the genus _Ploceus_,--better known to you under the appellation of "weaver-birds."

I am sure you have heard of weaver-birds before this; and you know that these creatures are so called on account of the skill which they exhibit in the construction of their nests. They do not build nests, as other birds, but actually weave them, in a most ingenious manner.

You are not to suppose that there is but one species of weaver-bird--one kind alone that forms these curious nests. In Africa--which is the princ.i.p.al home of these birds--there are many different kinds, forming different genera, whose hard names I shall not trouble you with. Each of these different kinds builds a nest of peculiar shape, and each chooses a material different from the others. Some, as the _Ploceus icterocephalus_, make their nests of a kidney shape, with the entrance upon the sides, and the latter not circular, but like an arched doorway.

Others of the genus _Plocepa.s.ser_ weave their nests in such a manner, that the thick ends of the stalks stick out all around the outside, giving them the appearance of suspended hedgehogs; while the birds of another genus closely allied to the latter, construct their nests of slender twigs, leaving the ends of these to project in a similar manner.

The "social grosbeak" fabricates a republic of nests in one clump, and all under one roof. The entrances are in the under-surface of this ma.s.s, which, occupying the whole top of a tree, has the appearance of a haystack, or a dense piece of thatch.

All these weaver-birds, though of different genera, bear a considerable resemblance to each other in their habits. They are usually granivorous, though some are insectivorous; and one species, the "red-billed weaver bird" is a parasite of the wild buffaloes.

It is a mistake to suppose that weaver-birds are only found in Africa and the Old World, as stated in the works of many naturalists. In tropical America, birds of this character are found in many species of the genera _Ca.s.sicus_ and _Icterus_, who weave pensile nests of a similar kind upon the trees of the Amazon and Orinoco. But the true weaver-birds--that is to say, those which are considered the type of the cla.s.s,--are those of the genus _Ploceus_; and it was a species of this genus that had hung their pendulous habitations upon the weeping willow.

They were of the species known as the "pensile weaver-bird."

There were full twenty of their nests in all, shaped as already described, and of green colour--for the tough "Bushman's gra.s.s," out of which they had been woven, had not yet lost its verdant hue, nor would it for a long time. Being of this colour, they actually looked like something that grew upon the tree,--like great pear-shaped fruits. No doubt from this source have been derived the tales of ancient travellers, who represented that in Africa were trees with fruits upon them, which, upon being broken open, disclosed to view either living birds or their eggs! Now the sight of the weaver-birds, and their nests, was nothing new to Truey. It was some time since the colony had established itself upon the willow-tree, and she and they had grown well acquainted. She had often visited the birds, had collected seeds, and carried them down to the tree; and there was not one of the whole colony that would not have perched upon her wrist or her pretty white shoulders, or hopped about over her fair locks, without fear. It was nothing unusual to her to see the pretty creatures playing about the branches, or entering the long vertical tunnels that led upward to their nests--nothing unusual for Truey to listen for hours to their sweet twittering, or watch their love-gambols around the borders of the vley.