frightened the cane-rat back on to him, and he stared 

 hard at the bank and the stretch of beach ahead of him. 

 Then the rock he meant to step on to gave a heave, 

 and a long blackish thing curved towards him ; he 

 sprang into the air as high as he could, and the 

 crocodile's tail swept under his feet ! 



Jantje fled back like a buck the rattle on the stones 

 behind him and crash of reeds putting yards into every 

 bound. 



For four days he stayed in camp waiting for some 

 one to find a hive and give him honey enough to make 

 his peace ; and then, for an old snuff-box and a little 

 powder, he bought a huge basket full of comb, young 

 and old, from a kafHr woman at one of the kraals 

 some miles away, and put it all at the foot of the tree 

 he had cleaned out. 



Then he had peace. 



The boys believed every word of that story : so, 

 I am sure, did Jantje himself. The buffalo story was 

 obviously true, and Jantje thought nothing of it : 

 the honey -bird story was not, yet he gloried in it ; 

 it touched his superstitious nature, and it was impossible 

 for him to tell the truth or to separate fact from 

 fancy and superstition. 



How much of fact there may have been in it I cannot 

 say : honey-birds gave me many a wild goose chase, 

 but when they led to anything at all it was to hives, 

 and not to snakes, tigers and crocodiles. Perhaps it is 

 right to own up that I never cheated a honey-bird ! 

 We pretended to laugh at the superstition, but we 

 left some honey all the same just for luck ! After 



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