The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 



Lighting a wax match to examine the interior, 

 I saw a green Mamba snake coiled upon the 

 ground within three feet of my face. It only 

 took me the eighth of a second to get outside, 

 for I had no weapon in my hand. Kopping and 

 I entered again, and whilst I lit a match he 

 made a furious smite at the reptile, missing it 

 badly. The last we saw of it was a flickering tail 

 disappearing into the grass forming the side of 

 the hut. This was not a very promising begin- 

 ning ! It is not exactly pleasant to think that 

 a poisonous snake lies within three feet of your 

 head. However, it did not molest us, and we 

 never saw it again. 



Next morning, soon after daybreak, we went 

 on to a better camping-ground, situated on the 

 banks of a small river ten miles off, where I 

 spent the greater part of the afternoon fixing up 

 my tent and making things ship-shape. In the 

 evening I took my '577 and went after a herd of 

 wildebeest, and managed to get close up to a 

 decent bull a fairly easy job, as the grass was 

 unburnt, and three or four feet high. I fired 

 when I got the chance, and distinctly heard the 

 thud of the bullet, but the whole herd rushed 

 off, to stop again some four hundred yards away. 

 There they all stood, facing me, tossing their 

 heads high in the air. Presently the one I had 

 shot at drew away and lay down, and off went 

 the rest. 



74 



