ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
Tales from the Veld. Glanville Ernest
Читать онлайн.Название Tales from the Veld
Год выпуска 0
isbn
Автор произведения Glanville Ernest
Жанр Книги о Путешествиях
Издательство Public Domain
“So he made a plan. He roll hisself in the mud, an’ crawl up near the store, where he draw his head in. Bymby ole man baboon come up, an arter takin’ some nuts, he sot down on ole skelpot to make his feast. ‘Poor ole skelpot,’ says the baboon, ‘three meals to his one, an’ a heap o’ nuts in my store ’ole by the ole ant-hill.’ ‘Too-loo-loo!’ says the skelpot. ‘What’s that noise?’ said the baboon. ‘Too-loo-loo!’ says the skelpot. ‘Hist!’ says the baboon, knockin’ his stummick. ‘Too-loo-loo!’ says the skelpot; then drawin’ in his breath he let it out ag’in, ‘Hiss! puff!’ like a great big snake. O’ coorse the baboon’s dead scared o’ snakes, an’ droppin’ the nuts he jest scooted fer the woods.”
“Er-umph!” said Bolo.
“He jest up an’ scooted fer the woods, an’ the skelpot arter eatin’ the nuts, he went back to the ’ole, scooped the yearth away, an’ crawled in. The baboon were very scared, but when the hunger come back he went for some more nuts. No sooner did he pop his hand in than the skelpot grab him by the little finger and hold on.”
“Eh! eh!” said Bolo.
“Grabbed him by ther little finger. The baboon nearly jumped outer his skin. ‘Who’s got hold o’ me?’ he yelled, but the skelpot he can’t talk, fer his mouth’s full. ‘Let me go!’ howled the baboon, an’ he pull and he pull, and bymby he draw the skelpot’s head outer the ’ole. Well, the skelpot he’s got a head like a puff-adder when yer don’t see his shell, an’ when the baboon see’d that yellow head glued onter his finger, he jest went green, and turned over in a fit. Bymby the baboon shivers, then he sot up. ‘Hiss! poof!’ says the skelpot, an’ the baboon lit out with a shriek, never to come back to that part ag’in. ‘Hiss! poof!’ says the skelpot, an’ the baboon lit out fer the nex’ country.”
Chapter Seven
The Jackal and the Wren
“Now, Bolo! let us hear something from you.”
The old Kaffir took a pinch of snuff, and began about the jackal and the netikee, the smallest of all South African birds, and a member of the wren family.
“The jackal one day was boasting. Said he, ‘When we go on the hunt all the animals are still. We – the lion and I – we rule the forest. When we growl the trees shiver, when we roar the earth shakes, when we strike the biggest goes down before us. Even the elephant turns out of our path.’ So he shook his tail and loped off to tell the lion that a fat eland was drinking at the vlei. Then up stood the lion, and crawled on his stomach to the shelter of a rock, while the jackal went round beyond. ‘Look out, eland,’ said the jackal; ‘here comes the lion.’ So the eland ran, and he ran straight for the lion, who rose through the air and broke the eland’s neck. The lion ate, and the jackal sat on his tail, licking his chops and whimpering. But the lion ate, and ate – first the hind legs, then the stomach, and the jackal ran up to take a bite. ‘Wait,’ grunted the lion, and the jackal sat on his tail and howled. Bymby the lion went off to the vlei to drink, and the jackal snap at the carcase, but before he gets a mouthful down swoop the ring crows and the aasvogels. ‘Away,’ said the jackal, ‘away – this food is mine and the lion’s.’
“‘Tell the lion we are obliged to him for giving us a meal,’ said the chief aasvogel, and with his big wing he hit the jackal, ker-bluff – long side the head, and the black crow dig him in the back. So the jackal run away, and jump, and howl.”
“‘Why don’t you roar?’ said the netikee.
“The jackal looked up, and there he sees the netikee on a thorn tree.
“‘Growl,’ says the netikee; ‘growl, and the tree will shake me off,’ and he laughed.
“‘What are you laughing at?’
“‘At you.’
“‘Why,’ said the jackal, looking back over his shoulder at the bag of bones that the birds had cleaned.
“‘’Cos you’re afraid of the birds, though the elephant gets out of your way and you can strike down the biggest,’ and the netikee laughs again.
“‘Who’s afraid?’ said the jackal.
“‘You are.’
“‘What! me!’
“‘Yes, you! I make my nest from your fur.’
“The jackal he bite, and snap, and howl, and then he say he’d only wished he had a chance of a fight with the birds.
“‘What’s that spot I see in the sky?’ said the netikee, looking up.
“The jackal look up and see the eagle swooping down, and he bolt into the earth. Bymby he poke his head out. ‘Is he gone?’ he said. ‘You see, me and the eagle had a dispute over a lamb which I took away from him, and I thought he would feel uncomfortable if he saw me. What did he say?’
“‘The eagle said he willing to fight if the lion leads the animals; but he’s not going to demean himself against any jackal trash.’
“The jackal grinned. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘the lion won’t fight, he’s just been feeding, and the eagle needn’t trouble about it. You get all the partridges, the pheasants, ducks, knorhaan, guinea fowl – the more the merrier, and I’ll bring the red cats, the muishonden, the wild dogs, the tiger-cat, and we’ll meet here to-morrow.’
“The netikee flip his tail about, and say, ‘Yes, he’s willing to have a battle,’ and the jackal with a grin he run off to call all his friends to a big feast off the birds. The netikee just bunch up his feathers, tuck his head under his wing, and go to sleep. Next morning before sunrise he fly to the bush, and he hear the jackal making a plan.
“‘You keep your eye on my tail,’ said the jackal. ‘Watch my tail,’ said the jackal, ‘I will hold it up straight like a banner, and you must follow it into the thick of the fight.’
“The netikee flew away off to a honey-tree, and he had a word with the bees: then he fly back to the thorn bush with a clump of bees with him.
“Bymby here comes the jackal with his bushy tail held up straight like a banner, and behind him come a green-eyed, silent, swift, cruel pack of wild-cats, red cats, grey cats, and wild dogs.
“‘There they come,’ said the nekitee; ‘see the jackal, with his tail up. Stick his tail, creep into his hair, and make him yell.’ So the netikee left his perch and flew to meet the animals all by himself, for they could not see the bees; but the bees they swarmed into the big bushy tail, and the next minute there was the jackal scooting off across the veld with his tail between his legs. Next thing you know the animals is all scuttling home.
“That’s why the netikee is so perky.”
“Jes’ like little men,” says Abe Pike.
Chapter Eight
Abe Pike and the Honey-Bird
In the night we heard the loud barking of a baboon, and next morning Uncle Abe, accompanied by the witch-doctor, Bolo, started back for his solitary homestead, saying that he had received a call from his familiar. This I regarded as an excuse, and judged that the two old men were bent, like boys, on some fishing excursion. Strangely enough, however, the black tiger disappeared at the same time, leaving the live stock free from his ravages – though human thieves as mischievous were afoot, and during the week paid a visit in the night to the cattle kraal, “lifting” a fine cow with a young heifer calf.
The spoor led away towards the dense bush of the Fish River to the east, and setting a knowing old dog upon the scent, I followed on horseback. The thief I judged had probably five hours’ start, and allowing for the feeble strength of the calf, I reckoned he was from six to ten miles ahead, when, if surprised by day-light at any distance from the cover of the bush, he would probably turn into a kloof. At intervals of about a mile I came on spots which, from the numerous hoof marks, indicated that the thief had stopped to let the calf rest and take milk,