"The Glamour of Prospecting: Wanderings of a South African
Prospector in search of copper, gold, emeralds, and diamonds" by
Lt. Fred C. Cornell, 1920
"It was dark when we floundered out of it, and we steered
straight for a wide thicket of willows, made a big fire, and were
only too glad to turn in. It seemed an excellent camp, with wood,
water, and shelter from the cold wind, but it was plain that the
"boys" were uneasy, and they crouched close to our fire instead of
building one apart as they usually did. After some food Ezaak
suggested that we might perhaps trek on a little farther, and this,
coming after a most arduous day, was decidedly strange. We asked
him why, and after beating around the bush for a bit he told me
that in the middle of the river, and exactly opposite where we were
camped, was a big rock in which the huge snake (the "Groot Slang",
in which every Richtersfeldt Hottentot firmly believes) had his
home, and that it was not safe for us or for our horses.
We had long heard of this snake; many
reputable Hottentots and a few white men claim to have seen it,
many more have seen its huge spoor in the sand or mud - a foot and
a half wide. It is believed to take cattle from the banks, and the
natives fear it mightily. There are no crocodiles in the Orange,
and besides, there are never any traces of feet with the spoor, but
it is a remarkable fact that the Hottentot name for this huge
python - or whatever it may be - is "Ki-man" which is very like the
Eastern name for an alligator.
Anyhow, we were far too tired to care
for snakes, and of course stayed where we were, the only thing to
annoy us being the huge long-legged tarantulas that kept running
with incredible swiftness into the fire, where they sizzled,
squirmed, and smelt unpleasantly.
In the morning we found that the
river here was a long, wide, still, and apparently very deep
stretch of water, and that a big rock rose from the centre, as the
guides had said. It appeared to be of granite, and was riven in
half by a big cleft. The steep mud banks of the river should have
shown a trace of anything coming up from the water, but we found no
spoor. So we made up some dynamite cartridges with fuse and
detonator, and flung them out as far as we could, and stood by with
the "arsenal" handy in case the "Groot Slang" was at home and
objected. The dynamite made a big upheaval, but no snake
materialised; only a few small springers and barbel flapped round
in the muddy water.
Then I saw something moving in the
crack in the rock, and let drive with my rifle. I was in a hurry,
and I heard my bullet hit the landscape somewhere in German
territory; but Ransson had seen that movement too, and was emptying
his magazine into the crack without undue loss of time. When we'd
finished a very flustered and indignant old wild-duck squatted out
of that crack and went away unhurt and quacking most derisively. No
luck again with our "big game" shooting."
We won't include a picture of the Cape Cobra that was
mentioned just in case anyone's afraid of snakes, but here are a
few links if you'd like to learn more about this exceptionally
venomous reptile:
Book mentioned in this episode - "The man-eaters of Tsavo and
other East African adventures" by John Henry Patterson. Link
to full book here:
https://tinyurl.com/y8ws32pp
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