Henry Bryden - The Gold Kloof

"Look out, Guy!" cried his cousin. "It's a python. Canter away a bit and slip in louper cartridges [buck shot], and then we'll have a go at the brute. He's been following us." They cantered away forty or fifty yards, changing their cartridges as they did so, and then returned to the charge.

Meanwhile the python, which had undoubtedly been stalking them, had thought better of it, and, seeing more formidable quarry than it had bargained for, was slipping away. The lads galloped to the spot where they had last seen it; and Tom, pointing to a movement in the long grass in front of them, exclaimed excitedly, "There it goes; come on!"

Guy, who was not used to snakes, didn't half like the idea of stalking such a monster; but as his cousin galloped on, he touched his pony with the spur and rode after him. Nearer and nearer they drew towards the rustling grass. Suddenly the movement ceased, and the huge, evil-looking head rose before them. The serpent was undeniably angry, and a big python in a rage is a formidable opponent.

"Shoot," whispered Tom in a steady voice.

Guy needed not incitement. Already his gun was up; they fired together, and as the double report rattled out, the great serpent, stricken in the head and neck, fell writhing into the pale grass. One of the two shots had luckily broken its backbone a foot or so below the head; but the huge serpent was by no means disabled, and now, half impotent though it was, it struggled furiously to reach its adversaries. Beating and flapping the earth in its agony and rage, it writhed itself towards the two horsemen, who now separated and gave it another shot apiece. Then, recharging their guns, they returned, and finished the wounded monster with a couple more charges.

Having ascertained that the snake was really dead, they dismounted and approached it; then, stretching out the reptile to its full length, Tom took a tape measure from his pocket and ran over its dimensions.

"Eighteen feet," he remarked, rising from his task. "The biggest python killed in these parts!"

"Have you many of these brutes about the place?" asked Guy, turning over the monster with his foot, and comparing the greenish white of its underparts with the brilliant markings of its upper colouring.

"No, not many," answered Tom. "They're shy, secretive beggars, and one very seldom, indeed, comes across them. I've not heard of one for two or three years."

"Thank goodness for that," rejoined Guy. "I must say, if I thought there were many of these creatures in the neighbourhood, I should come bird-shooting precious seldom, especially on foot. Surely they are dangerous? They're not poisonous, I suppose?"

"No, they're not poisonous, luckily," returned Tom. "But they can constrict. Whether they can kill a man I don't know. I shouldn't like to try the experiment. Father says they can't. Still, they can try; and if they were big enough-like this one, for example-they might give you a very unpleasant time of it. They certainly do kill small buck occasionally. Three years ago a python-rock snakes, the colonists call them-which father had shot was found to contain the bones of a duyker in its stomach; and our native boys killed another, with their knobkerries, which had killed and eaten a steinbuck just before, and was completely gorged and stupid after its meal."

They finished their shoot across the flat, adding three brace of koorhaan and Coqui partridges to their bag, and then came back to the dead python. Fastening this to the end of a piece of cord which Tom carried with him, they trailed the serpent behind them and struck for home. Arrived at Bamborough towards four o'clock, they stretched out the great serpent in the front garden, and invited all and sundry to come and view their conquest. It was agreed that so large a python had never before been seen in that part of the country.

"Yes," said Mr. Blakeney, as he watched Tom and Guy divesting the creature of its beautiful skin, "it's a big snake. Three years ago I got quite a fright with one of these reptiles. I was shooting alone and on foot about two miles from here. Juno was with me, and she seemed very uneasy, just as she was with you to-day. Suddenly, as I turned round-I don't know what made me do it-I saw, sticking out above the grass not ten yards behind me, a python. Just for one second I was in a real fright, I promise you-the thing was so sudden. However, the brute looked very nasty, and I put up my gun and fired at once, smashing its head to pieces. It struggled a bit, and another shot finished it. Now, that snake had followed me right across the flat from the river bed-where, I imagine, it had its holt or hiding-place in some bush or among the rocks-for a distance of more than a mile. It was rather uncanny, wasn't it?"

"Very uncanny, indeed," answered Guy. "I don't like the brutes at all. Do you think they would go for one?"

"No; on the whole, I don't think they would," said Mr. Blakeney. "And if they did, although they might frighten you and even hurt you, I don't think they could kill a man. They could kill a child, as they do undoubtedly kill a young calf sometimes; and for that reason I'm not over fond of them-in fact, I destroy them whenever I come across them, if I can. They're slippery brutes, however, and once let them get near rocks or bush and you'll never see them again."

"The natives about here, father, don't like them?" queried Tom, as he finished his part of the task, and together he and Guy rolled the stripped body of the serpent from its skin, which they had now completely flayed away from the flesh.

"No, the Bechuanas don't like them," rejoined Mr. Blakeney. "At the same time they don't care about molesting them. In Zululand the natives will never touch them. They have an idea that the souls of their ancestors return to the bodies of these serpents, and will even allow them to live close to their huts. For my part, I don't like the proximity of such neighbours."

Having carefully scraped every fragment of fat or flesh from the skin, the two lads rubbed in arsenical soap, and pegged it out on the shady side of the wall of an outhouse, where in a day or two the cure was complete.

In a few more weeks Guy Hardcastle had acquired a very fair knowledge of the far-spreading pastures of Bamborough Farm. He began to pick up, too, some knowledge of stock and stock-farming, for he was a quick lad, who always had his wits about him, and was anxious to gain any sort of information that might be useful to him. He had seen mealies and oats reaped, and assisted in other operations. He had had a very good time, for, mingled with the preliminaries of a pastoral farmer's life, to which his uncle had introduced him, he had had a fair amount of shooting, several pleasant excursions with his cousins to neighbouring farms, and a trip to Mafeking to bring home stores. At the end of January he accompanied his uncle to Johannesburg with a herd of fat cattle, which were disposed of for excellent prices on their arrival there.

On this expedition, although they were assisted by native servants, they had to experience some of the roughs and tumbles of veldt life. They lived for the most part in the saddle, sleeping at night in a light mule wagon which accompanied them. The weather was broken and unsettled; the rains, which began in December, still fell heavily at intervals, and they were often drenched to the skin. Even their wagon tent by no means sufficed to protect them from the tropical downpours that periodically fell from the lowering heavens. Nevertheless, to the secret satisfaction of Mr. Blakeney, Guy bore all the discomforts that overtook them with the most cheerful spirit, and arrived at Johannesburg in excellent heart and fettle. He had proved himself a very useful auxiliary, and his uncle was more than well pleased with his behaviour. The return from the gold city was made with much less discomfort, and, unencumbered with a big herd of cattle, they reached home within a fortnight.