g of the
Caffres, their habits, or their country. Cape Town and its
neighbourhood was civilised, whilst where I had been was wild as the
wildest country. I was asked out to many houses in the neighbourhood,
and had over and over again to relate some of my adventures. As is
usually the case with ignorant and jealous people, there were some who
thought I was inventing stories to astonish them: they did not believe
that I had gone through so many strange and exciting scenes, and did not
understand how such a boy, as I comparatively was, could have been made
a chief by these people.

I passed nearly four months at Mr Rossmar's house, the happiest that I
can remember in all my life. Although there was no pretence even of
study or of learning anything, yet I gained knowledge from hearing the
questions of the day discussed; and from the habits of observation I had
acquired in consequence of my life in the bush, I found that I noticed
and remembered things which had entirely escaped the observation of all
the others. This habit of noticing once saved the life of one of the
Miss Rossmars. I was walking in their garden one morning, near a small
flower-bed, from which one of the ladies intended to pick some flowers.
The path on which we were walking was close to this bed. On the path I
noticed a broadish smooth mark leading into the flower-bed. Instantly I
knew this to be the spoor of a snake. I stopped Miss Rossmar from
picking the flower she was just stooping to gather, and made her stand
back. I with my stick moved the flowers so as to examine what was
underneath. Just under the flower that the young lady intended
gathering, a large puff-adder was coiled, and the reptile was evidently
on the watch, as it struck my stick the instant I moved the flower. Had
this reptile bitten a human being, death would have been a certainty. I
killed the adder, and it was afterwards stuffed by a naturalist at Cape
Town, and a small wax-work flower-bed was made to represent the scene as
it occurred. If Miss Rossmar had been bitten by the adder, it would
have been considered an accident, and probably an unavoidable one; but
this case was an instance of how observation may avoid an accident. A
Caffre does not believe in what we call an accident: he says it is due
to want of care, or to want of observation. In the majority of cases
this is true. Men in London get knocked down by cabs and waggons
because they do not look carefully to