e heard the fall
of the water over its ledge of rock, the moaning of the wounded ape, and
once or twice, and that very distant, the roar of a lion. Spread out in
the moonlight lay the plain, stretching away towards the eastern coast,
watered by a small river, while to the right rose the chain of mountain
land in which the river took its rise, and whose slopes were dotted here
and there by what seemed large black patches of forest, principally
composed of trees exactly resembling the cedar. From one of these
patches there came every now and then the sound of the splintering of
wood, just as though a workman were felling timber. This noise was
quite inexplicable; and the baboon, too, was annoying, for not only did
it keep up its moaning, but would break off pieces of the branches, and
throw them at the hunter, generally with a certain aim. The time wore
wearily on, and Captain Hughes had just dozed off, when his attention
was suddenly roused by a noise like the bleating of a sheep. No animal
of any kind was in sight, and yet there it was, the low, plaintive
bleating of a sheep. It seemed to come from the bush, and presently,
out of it, came the beautiful painted body of a large snake, some
fourteen feet in length, gliding along with a gentle, sinuous motion,
and uttering from time to time the strange bleat. Gaining the foot of
the tree where the baboon was, it wound itself round the trunk, and
crept slowly up it. The moment the monkey caught sight of it dragging
its shining length upwards, it evinced a deadly fear. Slowly, but
surely, the nogaputsane neared its prey, while the unlucky animal
chattering and crying, seemed unable to escape. Moved by its distress,
the hunter raised his rifle, but just as he was about to fire the baboon
jumped from the tree, and leaping across the stream, seized one of the
branches of a young mimosa, swinging himself into it chattering with
fright. The large snake paused for a few minutes to look about it, soon
slowly descending, and then starting in pursuit, the nogaputsane came to
the river, which it did not like, and returned into the bush.
Time wore on; the interest of the night seemed past, and morning could
not be far off. Fairly tired out, the soldier began making his
arrangements for a return to camp, when he was stopped by seeing, or
thinking he saw, a black mass moving among the shadows on the hill-side,
where the sound of the splintering wood was heard. The cause of th
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