On Returning To The Wagon, We Found That Being Left Alone
Had Brought Out Some Of Fleming's Energy, For He Had Managed To Come Up.
As the water in this pond dried up, we were soon obliged to move again.
One of the Bushmen took out his dice, and, after throwing them, said that God
told him to go home.
He threw again in order to show me the command,
but the opposite result followed; so he remained and was useful,
for we lost the oxen again by a lion driving them off
to a very great distance. The lions here are not often heard.
They seem to have a wholesome dread of the Bushmen, who, when they observe
evidence of a lion's having made a full meal, follow up his spoor so quietly
that his slumbers are not disturbed. One discharges a poisoned arrow
from a distance of only a few feet, while his companion simultaneously
throws his skin cloak on the beast's head. The sudden surprise
makes the lion lose his presence of mind, and he bounds away
in the greatest confusion and terror. Our friends here showed me the poison
which they use on these occasions. It is the entrails of a caterpillar
called N'gwa, half an inch long. They squeeze out these,
and place them all around the bottom of the barb, and allow the poison
to dry in the sun. They are very careful in cleaning their nails
after working with it, as a small portion introduced into a scratch
acts like morbid matter in dissection wounds.
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