CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
THE ARROW-POISON.
Klaas and Jan had long since ridden their ponies back to camp, andhaving off-saddled, remained by the wagons.
For all that they were not idle--that is, they were not withoutsomething to interest and amuse them. Swartboy was the geniusworshipped by Klaas and Jan, for there was no bird in all Africa thatSwartboy could not either snare or trap; and in his hours of leisure,when the oxen were kraaled and off his hands, he was in the habit ofshowing the two young "mynheers" how to construct many a sort of decoyand trap for the fowls of the air.
Upon this day in particular, however, they were more than usuallyinterested in the Bushman's proceedings, as his attention was turned tocapturing,--not a fowl of the air, but of the earth,--an ostrich.
Swartboy had resolved to pluck the plumes out of the old cock that hadbeen seen, and whose dwelling had been so rudely approached andplundered in the morning.
But how was Swartboy to capture the cock?
It was not his intention to take him alive. That is a difficult matter,and can only be managed by men mounted upon fleet horses, and then aftera very long and troublesome chase.
Swartboy had no wish to take the ostrich alive. The bird would be of nouse to him in that way, as the skin and plume-feathers were the spoilsupon which the Bushman's thoughts were bent, or rather the rix-dollarswhich these would yield on Swartboy's return to Graaf Reinet. Thereforehe did not intend to _catch_ the old cock, but _kill_ him, if he could.
But how was the Bushman to accomplish this? Would he borrow the riflefrom Hendrik, or the great elephant-gun--the "roer"--from Groot Willem,and shoot the ostrich? Not likely. Swartboy was no shot, that is, withfire-arms. He knew nothing about them; and with either rifle or roer hecould scarcely have hit an elephant, much less an ostrich!
But if Swartboy knew not how to manage a gun, he had a weapon of his ownthat he did know how to manage,--his bow. With that tiny bow,--scarce ayard in length,--and those small slender arrows, the Bushman could senda missile as deadly as the leaden bullet of either rifle or roer.
Looking at the light reed, with its little barbed head and featheredshaft, you would scarcely believe it possible that such a weapon couldbring down the big strong ostrich; and yet with a similar shaft hadSwartboy often levelled the great camelopard in the dust. A deadly anddangerous weapon was the Bushman's arrow.
But what rendered it so? Not its size, and surely not the force withwhich it could be projected from that tiny bow? Neither. There wassomething besides the strength of the bow and the weight of the arrow tomake it a "deadly and dangerous weapon." There was _poison_.
Swartboy's arrows were true Bushman weapons,--they were poisoned. Nowonder they were deadly.
The use of the bow among savage nations all over the earth, and thegreat similarity of its form and construction everywhere, may beregarded as one of the most curious facts in the history of our race.Tribes and nations that appear to have been isolated beyond all possiblecommunication with the rest of the world, are found in possession ofthis universal weapon, constructed on the same principle, and onlydiffering slightly in details--these details usually having reference tosurrounding circumstances. When all else between two tribes or nationsof savages may differ, both will be found carrying a common instrumentof destruction,--the bow and arrows.
Can it be mere coincidence, like necessities in different parts of theworld producing like results, or is this possession of a similar weaponamong distant and remote peoples a proof of unity or communicationbetween them in early times?
These inquiries would lead to a long train of reflections, which,however interesting, would here be out of place.
But an equally or still more curious fact is that of _poisoned_ arrows.We find here and there, in almost every quarter of the globe, tribes ofsavages who poison their arrows; and the mode of preparing and usingthis poison is almost exactly the same among all of them. Where thereis a difference, it arises from the different circumstances by which thetribe may be surrounded.
Now the knowledge of arrow-poison, as well as the mode of preparing itand the habit of using it, belong to tribes of savages so completelyisolated, that it is not probable--hardly possible, in fact--that eitherthey or their ancestors could ever have communicated it to one another.We cannot believe that there ever existed intercourse between theBushman of Africa and the Chuncho of the Amazon, much less between theformer and the forest tribes of North America; yet all these use thearrow-poison and prepare it in a similar manner! All make it by amixture of vegetable poison with the subtle fluid extracted from thefang-glands of venomous serpents. In North America, the rattlesnake andmoccason, with several species of roots, furnish the material; in SouthAmerica, the "wourali," or "curare," as it is indifferently called, is amixture of a vegetable juice with the poison extracted from the glandsof the coral-snake, (_Echidna ocellata_), the "boiquira" or "diamondrattlesnake," (_Crotalus horridus_), the lance-headed "viper,"(_Trigonocephalus lanceolate_) the formidable "bushmaster," (_Lachesisrhombeata_), and several other species. In South Africa, a similarresult is obtained by mixing the fluid from the poison-glands of thepuff-adder, or that of various species of _naja_, the "cobras" of thatcountry, with the juice from the root of an Amaryllis, called _gift-bol_(poison-bulb) in the phraseology of the colonial Dutch. It is out ofsuch elements that the Bushman mixes his dangerous compound.
Now our Bushman, Swartboy, understood the process as well as any of hisrace; and it was in watching him mixing the ingredients and poisoninghis arrows that Klaas and Jan spent the early portion of that day.
All the ingredients he carried with him; for whenever a "geel coppel,"(_Naja haje_), or a "spuugh-slang," (_Naja nigra_), or the "puff-adder,"(_Vipera arretans_), or the horned viper, (_Cerastes caudalis_,)--whenever any of these was killed on the route--and many were--Swartboytook care to open the poison-gland, situated behind their fangs, andtake therefrom the drop of venom, which he carefully preserved in asmall phial. He also carried another ingredient, a species of bitumenobtained from certain caverns, where it exudes from the rocks. Theobject of this is not, as supposed by some travellers, to render thecharm "more potent," but simply to make it glutinous, so that it wouldstick securely to the barb of the arrow, and not brush off too easily.A similar result is obtained by the South American Indians from avegetable gum.
The gift-bol, or poison-bulb, was easily obtained, as the species ofAmaryllis that yields it grew plentifully near. But Swartboy had nottrusted to this chance, as during past days he had plucked several ofthe roots, and put them away in one of the side-chests of the wagon,where many other little knick-knacks of his lay snugly stowed.
Klaas and Jan, therefore, had the rare chance of witnessing themanufacture of the celebrated arrow-poison.
They saw Swartboy bruise the gift-bol, and simmer it over the fire in asmall tin pan which he had; they saw him drop in the precioussnake-venom; they saw him stir it round, until it became of a very darkcolour, and then, to their great astonishment, they saw him try itsstrength _by tasting_!
This seemed odd to both, and so may it to you, boy reader,--that a dropof poison, the smallest portion of which would have killed Swartboy asdead as a herring, could be thus swallowed by him with impunity! Butyou are to remember that poisons, both vegetable and mineral, are verydifferent in their nature. A small quantity of arsenic taken into thestomach will produce death, and yet you might swallow the head of arattlesnake, fangs, poison-gland, and all, without the slightest danger.
On the contrary, if a single grain of the latter were to enter yourblood, even if it were only scratched in with a pin, its effects wouldbe fatal, while other poisons may be introduced into the blood withoutany fatal result.
Swartboy knew there was no arsenic or any species of "stomach-poison,"if I am allowed to use such a phrase, in his mixture. It was only"blood-poison," which he might _taste_ with impunity.
The bitumen was the last thing put into the pan; and when S
wartboy hadstirred it a while longer, and sufficiently thickened it, so that itwould adhere to the barbs, he took down a quiver of arrows already made,and dipped each of them into the poison. As soon as the barbs hadcooled, and the poison became well dried, the arrows were ready for use,and Swartboy intended that some of them should be used on that very day.Before the sun should set, he designed sending one or more of themthrough the skin of an ostrich.