The reptile thus disturbed instantly struck backwards after the fashion
of its species, so that its fangs, just missing Tabitha's hands,
sank deep into the kid's neck. She screamed and there was a great
disturbance. A native ran forward and pinned down the puff-adder with
his walking-stick of which the top was forked. The kid immediately fell
on to its side, and lay there bleeding and bleating. Tabitha began to
weep, calling out, "My goat is killed," between her sobs.
Menzi, distinguishing her voice amid the tumult, asked what was the
matter. Someone told him, whereon he commanded that the kid should be
brought to him and the snake also. This was done, Tabitha following her
dying pet with her mother, for by now Thomas had departed, taking no
heed of these events, which perhaps he was too disturbed to notice.
"Save my goat! Save my goat, O Menzi!" implored Tabitha.
The old witch-doctor looked at the animal, also at the hideous
puff-adder that had been dragged along the ground in the fork of the
stick.
"It will be hard, Little Flower," he said, "seeing that the goat is
bitten in the neck and this snake is very poisonous. Still for your
sake I will try, although I fear that it may prove but a waste of good
medicine.
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