Popular Adventure Tales Part 86

She had got within six feet of the threatening reptile. Jan was about the same distance from it on the opposite side. They were equally in peril; and one or the other--perhaps both--would have fallen a sacrifice to the deadly cobra; but at that moment their saviour was nigh. A dark shadow pa.s.sed under their eyes--in their ears was a rushing sound like the "whish" of a falling body--and at the same instant a large bird darted down between them!

It did not stay to alight. For a moment its strong broad wings agitated the air in their faces; but the next moment the bird made a sudden effort, and rose vertically upwards.

Truey's eyes fell upon the ground. The cobra was no longer there.

With an exclamation of joy she sprang forward, and, throwing her arms around Jan, cried out,--

"We are saved, brother!--we are saved!"

Jan was somewhat bewildered. As yet he had seen no snake. He had seen the bird dart down between them; but so adroitly had it seized the cobra and carried it off, that Jan, looking only at Truey, had not perceived the serpent in its beak. He was bewildered and terrified, for he still fancied that Truey was in danger.

When he heard her exclaim, "We are saved!" he was bewildered all the more.

"But the snake!" he cried out. "Where is the snake?"

As he put these questions, he kept examining Truey from head to foot, as if expecting to see a reptile twined around some part of her body.

"The snake, Jan! Did you not see it? It was just there, at our feet; but now--see! yonder it is. The secretary has got it. See! They are fighting! Good bird! I hope it will punish the villain for trying to rob my pretty weavers. That's it, good bird! Give it to him! See, Jan! What a fight!"

"Oh, ah!" said Jan, now comprehending the situation. "Oh, ah! Sure enough, yonder is a snake, and a wopper, too. Ne'er fear, Truey! Trust my secretary. He'll give the rascal a taste of his claws. There's a lick well put in! Another touch like that, and there won't be much life left in the scaly villain. There again,--wop!"

With these and similar exclamations the two children stood watching the fierce conflict that raged between the bird and the reptile.

Now this bird was a very peculiar one--so much so, that in all the world there is no other of the same kind. In form it resembled a crane, having very long legs, and being about the height and size of a crane. Its head and beak, however, were more like those of an eagle or vulture. It had well-developed wings, armed with spurs, and a very long tail, with the two middle feathers longer than the rest. Its general colour was bluish grey, with a white throat and breast, and a reddish tinge upon the wing-feathers. But, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about the bird was its "crest." This consisted of a number of long, blackish plumes growing out of its occiput, and extending down the back of its neck nearly to the shoulders. These gave the bird a very peculiar appearance; and the fancied resemblance to a secretary of the olden time with his long quill behind his ear--before steel pens came into fashion--is the reason why the bird has received the very inappropriate name of the "Secretary-bird."

It is more properly named the "serpent-eater," and naturalists have given it the t.i.tle _Gypogera.n.u.s_, or "crane-vulture." It is sometimes also called "the messenger," from the staid solemn manner of its walk, as it stalks over the plain.

Of all its names that of "serpent-eater" is the best adapted to the character of the bird. It is true there are other birds that kill and eat serpents,--as the "guaco" bird of South America, and many hawks and kites,--but the secretary is the only winged creature that makes reptiles of this cla.s.s exclusively its prey, and carries on a constant war against them. It is not strictly correct to say that it feeds exclusively upon snakes. It will also eat lizards, tortoises, and even locusts; but snakes are certainly its favourite food, and to obtain these it risks its life in many a deadly encounter with those of a very large kind.

The serpent-eater is an African bird, and is not peculiar to South Africa alone, as it is found in the Gambia country. It is also a native of the Philippine Isles. There is some doubt whether the species of the Philippine Isles is identical with that of Africa. A difference is noted in the plumage, though very slight. The disposition of the crest-plumes differs in the two, and the tail-feathers are differently arranged. In the African species the two middle ones are the longest, while in the serpent-eater of the Philippines it is the two outside feathers that project--giving the bird the appearance of having a "fork" or "swallow"

tail. Some points of distinction have also been observed between the South African bird and that of the Gambia.

The serpent-eater is, however, a very unique bird; and naturalists, failing to cla.s.s it with either hawks, eagles, vultures, gallinae, or cranes, have elevated it, so as to form a distinct tribe, family, genus, and species, of itself.

In South Africa it frequents the great plains and dry karoos, stalking about in search of its prey. It is not gregarious, but lives solitary or in pairs, making its nest in trees,--usually those of a thick th.o.r.n.y species, which renders the nest most difficult of approach. The whole edifice is about three feet in diameter, and resembles the nests of the tree-building eagles. It is usually lined with feathers and down, and two or three eggs are the number deposited for a single hatching.

The serpent-eater is an excellent runner, and spends more time on foot than on the wing. It is a shy wary bird, yet, notwithstanding, it is most easily domesticated; and it is not uncommon to see them about the houses of the Cape farmers, where they are kept as pets, on account of their usefulness in destroying snakes, lizards, and other vermin. They have been long ago introduced into the French West India Islands, and naturalised there--in order that they should make war upon the dangerous "yellow serpent," the plague of the plantations in those parts.

Now the bird which had so opportunely appeared between Jan and Truey, and had no doubt saved one or the other, or both, from the deadly bite of the _spuugh-slang_, was a serpent-eater,--one that had been tamed, and that made its home among the branches of the great nwana-tree. The hunters had found it upon the plain, wounded by some animal,--perhaps a very large snake,--and had brought it home as a curiosity. In time it quite recovered from its wounds; but the kindness it had received, during the period when it was an invalid, was not thrown away upon it.

When it recovered the use of its wings, it refused to leave the society of its protectors, but remained habitually in the camp--although it made frequent excursions into the surrounding plains in search of its favourite food. It always, however, returned at night, and roosted among the branches of the great nwana-tree. Of course it was Jan's pet, and Jan was very good to it; but it now repaid all his kindness in saving him from the fangs of the deadly cobra.

The children, having recovered from their alarm, stood watching the singular conflict between serpent and serpent-eater.

On first seizing the reptile, the bird had caught it by the neck in its beak. It might not have accomplished this so readily, had not the attention of the snake been occupied by the children, thus throwing it off its guard.

Having succeeded in seizing the reptile, the bird rose nearly in a vertical direction to a height of many yards, and then opening his beak permitted the serpent to fall to the ground. His object was to stun the latter by the fall; and the more effectually to do this, he would have carried the cobra still higher, had not the latter prevented it by attempting to coil itself around his wings.

Upon letting fall his prey the serpent-eater did not remain in the air.

On the contrary, he darted after the falling reptile, and the moment the latter touched the ground, and before it could put itself in an att.i.tude of defence, the bird "pounced" upon it with spread foot, striking it a violent blow near the neck. The snake was still but slightly damaged, and throwing itself into a coil stood upon its defence. Its mouth was open to its widest extent, its tongue protruded, its fangs were erect, and its eyes flashing with rage and poison. A terrible antagonist it appeared, and for a moment the secretary seemed to think so, as he stood on the ground confronting it.

But the bird soon began to advance upon it for a renewal of the attack, though this advance was made in a cautious manner. With the pinions of one of his strong wings spread broadly out for a shield, he approached the reptile sideways, and, when near enough, suddenly wheeled, turning upon his leg as on a pivot, and struck sharply out with his other wing.

The blow was delivered with good effect. It reached the head of the snake, and seemed to stun it. Its neck dropped, the coils became loosened. Before it could recover itself it was once more in the beak of the serpent-eater, and trailing through the air.

This time the bird rose to a much greater height than before--as he was not hampered by the writhing of the serpent--and as before suffered the reptile to fall, and then darted suddenly after.

When the snake came to the ground a second time it lay for a moment stretched at full length, as if stunned or dead. It was not dead, however, and would once more have coiled itself; but, before it could do so, the bird had repeatedly pounced upon its neck with his spread and h.o.r.n.y feet; and at length, watching his opportunity when the head of the serpent lay flat, he struck a blow with his sharp beak so violent, that it split the skull of the reptile in twain! Life was now extinct, and the hideous form, extended to its full length, lay lithe and motionless upon the gra.s.s.

Jan and Truey clapped their hands, and uttered exclamations of joy.

The serpent-eater took no heed of their demonstrations, but, approaching the dead cobra, bent over it, and coolly set about making his dinner.

CHAPTER XLIV.

TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS.

Von Bloom and his family had now been months without bread. They were not without a subst.i.tute, however, as various roots and nuts supplied them with a change of food. Of the latter, they had the ground or pig-nut, which grows in all parts of Southern Africa, and which forms a staple food of the native inhabitants. For vegetables they had the bulbs of many species of _Ixias_ and _Mesembryanthemums_, among others the "Hottentot fig." They had the "Caffir bread"--the inside pith of the stems of a species of _Zamia_; and the "Caffir chestnut," the fruit of the _Brabeium stellatum_; and last, not least, the enormous roots of the "elephant's foot." They had wild onions and garlic too; and in the white flower-tops of a beautiful floating plant, they found a subst.i.tute for asparagus.

All these roots and fruits were to be obtained in the neighbourhood, and no man knew better how to find them, and "crow" them up when found, than did Swartboy the Bushman. Well might he, for in Swartboy's early days he had often been compelled to subsist for weeks, and even months, on roots alone!

But although they could procure a constant supply of these natural productions, they considered them but a poor subst.i.tute for bread; and all of them longed to eat once more what is usually termed the "staff of life"--though in South Africa, where so many people live exclusively upon the flesh of animals, bread is hardly ent.i.tled to that appellation.

Bread they were likely to have, and soon. When treking from the old kraal, they had brought with them a small bag of maize. It was the last of their previous year's stock; and there was not in all over a bushel of it. But that was enough for seed, and would produce many bushels if properly planted, and carefully tended.

This had been done shortly after their arrival at their present home. A fertile spot of ground had been selected, only a few hundred yards from the nwana-tree. It had been turned up with the spade, for want of a plough, and the seeds planted at proper distances.

Many an hour had been given to the weeding and hoeing of it, and around every plant a little hill of soft mould had been raised, to nourish the roots, and protect them from the heat of the sun. The plants were even watered now and then.

Partly on account of this attention, and partly from the richness of the virgin soil, a splendid growth was the result; and the stalks stood full twelve feet high, with ears nearly a foot long. They had almost ripened; and the field-cornet intended in about a week or ten days to gather in the crop.

Both he and all his people were antic.i.p.ating pleasant feasts of maize-bread, and "hominy," with "mash and milk," and various other dishes, that with Totty's skill could be manufactured out of the Indian corn.

About this time an incident occurred that nearly deprived them, not only of their whole plot of maize-plants, but also of their valuable housekeeper, Totty. It was as follows:--

Totty was on the platform in the great nwana-tree, which commanded a view of the corn-patch, and also of the plain beyond, as far as the bottom of the cliffs. She was busied about "house" affairs, when her attention was called off, by some singular noises that came from that direction. She parted the branches and looked through. A singular scene was before her eyes--a spectacle of no common kind.

A body of odd-looking animals, to the number of two hundred or more, was coming from the direction of the cliffs. They were creatures of ungainly forms--in make and size not unlike large ill-shaped dogs--and of a greenish-brown colour. Their faces and ears only were black, and these were naked, while their bodies were covered with harsh coa.r.s.e hair. They had long tails, which some of them carried high in the air, and flourished about in a very eccentric manner.

Totty was by no means alarmed. She knew what sort of animals they were.

She knew they were baboons. They were of the species known as the "pig-faced" baboon or "chacma" (_Cynocephalus porcarius_), which is found in nearly every part of South Africa where there are high cliffs with caves and crevices--the favourite dwelling-places of the baboon.

Of all the monkey tribe the baboons, or dog-headed monkeys (_cynocephali_), are the most disgusting in form and features. Who does not feel disgust when regarding the hideous mandrill--the drill--the hamadryas--or even the chacma? And all these are baboons. The baboons are peculiar to Africa, and there are six well-known species of them:--the common baboon of North Africa, the "papion" of the south and western coast, the "hamadryas or tartarin" of Abyssinia, the "mandrill"

and "drill" of Guinea, and the "chacma" of the Cape Colony.

The habits of these animals are as disgusting as their appearance. They may be tamed, and made "pets" of; but dangerous pets they are, as they will, upon, the slightest provocation, bite the hand that feeds them.