The Bush Boys Part 33

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 FORTY THREE.

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-- s.h.i.+ning 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 gros-beak" (_Loxia socia_) 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, (_Textor erythrorhynchus_), 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" (_Ploceus pensilis_).

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.

She was not thinking of them at the moment, but of something else, perhaps of the blue water-lilies--perhaps of the springbok--but certainly not of them, as she tripped gaily along the edge of the lake.

Her attention, however, was suddenly attracted to the birds.

All at once, and without any apparent cause, they commenced screaming and fluttering around the tree, their cries and gestures betokening a high state of excitement or alarm.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

THE SPITTING-SNAKE.

"What can be the matter with my pretty birds?" asked Truey of herself.

"Something wrong surely! I see no hawk. Perhaps they are fighting among themselves. I shall go round and see. I shall soon pacify them."

And so saying she mended her pace; and pa.s.sing round the end of the lake, walked out upon the peninsula until she stood under the willow.

There was no underwood. The tree stood alone upon the very end of the spit of land, and Truey went close in to its trunk. Here she stopped and looked up among the branches, to ascertain what was causing so much excitement among the birds.

As she approached, several of the little creatures had flown towards her, and alighted upon her arms and shoulders; but not as was their wont when desiring to be fed. They appeared to be in a state of alarm, and had come to her for protection.

Some enemy certainly must be near, thought Truey, though she could see none.

She looked around and above. There were no hawks in the air, nor on the neighbouring trees,--no birds of prey of any kind. Had there been one in the willow, she could easily have seen it, as the foliage was light and thin; besides a hawk would not have remained in the tree with her standing so near. What, then, caused the trouble among the birds? what was still causing it--for they were as noisy and terrified as ever? Ha!

At last the enemy appears--at last Truey's eyes have fallen upon the monster who has disturbed the peaceful colony of weavers, and roused them to such a pitch of excitement.

Slowly gliding along a horizontal branch, grasping the limb in its many spiral folds, appeared the body of a large serpent. Its scales glittered as it moved, and it was the s.h.i.+ning of these that had caught Truey's eyes, and directed them upon the hideous reptile.