everal of his companions sprang to their feet; and, for a moment, a
scene of confusion ensued that baffled every attempt on the part of the
young hunters to obtain an explanation of it. At length, it transpired
that a snake had caused the commotion. One of about eight feet in
length was dragged up to the light of the fire and submitted to
examination. It was writhing in the agonies of death. Its head had
been crushed by a blow. Its colour, which was nearly black, left no
doubt in the minds of the natives as to the nature of the reptile they
had killed.

"Picakholu! picakholu!" exclaimed several at the same time, and their
attention was immediately turned to the man who had first made its
acquaintance.

He exhibited two deep scratches on the back of his right hand. On
beholding them, his companions uttered a cry of commiseration, and stood
gazing at the unfortunate man with an expression that seemed to say:
"_You must surely die_."

His colour soon changed to a deeper brown. Then his fingers and lips
began to move spasmodically, and his eyes assumed a fixed and glassy
expression.

In about ten minutes from the time he had been bitten, he seemed quite
unconscious of anything but agony; and would have rolled into the fire,
had he not been held back by those around him.

In less than half an hour, he was dead,--dead, while the body of the
serpent with the mangled head was still writhing along the grass.

The Makololo was buried at sunrise, three hours after death; and so
virulent is the poison of the picakholu that, ere the body was deposited
in the grave, it was already in a state of decomposition!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A GIRAFFE CHASE.

In the evening of the twelfth day after leaving the Limpopo, they
reached a small river, which Macora called the Luize. He informed the
hunters, that one day's journey down this stream would take him to the
ruins of the village where he had been born and had lived until within
the last two or three years, and his desire to see his native place was
about to be gratified.

On one thing Macora could congratulate himself. The chief Moselekatse,
by driving him from his country, had profited but little. All the
Makololo cattle and other objects of plunder had been safely got away
out of reach of the robber chief. None of Macora's people had remained
in the land, so that there was no one to pay tribute to the conqueror;
and the country had been left to the undisturbed po