294 BIRD-HUNTING 



bird world to watch the old bird — the female — dash- 

 ing round the tree as our man was climbing to the 

 nest, and making frantic stoops at his head, uttering 

 all the time fierce cries of rage. He told us that she 

 never actually touched him, but it certainly appeared 

 as if she was doing so from where we stood. Rettig 

 and our driver, Andreas, shot at her several times, 

 but luckily without effect, as she flew at such light- 

 ning speed that it was very difficult to see more than 

 a momentary glimpse as she passed the surrounding 

 tree-tops. I should have been very sorry if this 

 brave bird had been killed. 



Returning this day in single file along a stony 

 path, three of us walked over a Viper coiled up 

 behind a stone. As Rettig passed just behind me, 

 the last man saw it strike at his foot, and called us 

 back. If he had been a bare-footed native he 

 would have been in all probability bitten. He told 

 me that he had known several fatal cases of bites 

 from this small Viper, which has two small curved 

 horns in its nose. I picked it up alive by the tail, 

 too quickly for it to strike, and held it up to show 

 them how it was powerless to turn round to bite in 

 that position ; but they were much alarmed, and very 

 unwilling for me to approach it until I assured them 

 that I could do it all right. It had been coiled up 

 behind a flat stone in the middle of the path, where 

 it was almost invisible. 



