The Legend of The Serpent

Sitting around the camp fire listening to the herdsmen regale about the giant snake that lives in a lair nearby had become legendary on Gumaa Gabee beef cattle ranch in the Western Sand Veldt. The serpent is described as a giant monster, a sleek, vicious and deadly creature that had bitten and killed several cows, ventured into the base camp compound and grabbed numerous chickens, and it scared the living daylights out of those who crossed its path.

“Ke noga e tona, e ntsho, e e nang le ditsebe tse ditona,” they said. Meaning that it was a large, black snake with huge neck-flaps.

I had been told that numerous hunting expeditions had been taken with shot-guns, dogs and magic potions to eliminate this imposing threat to human and livestock but the sleek and slithery creature had eluded all attempts to kill it. My father, brothers and I had never seen the much talked about serpent and we were beginning to think that the story of the elusive snake was perhaps the only plausible tale the herdsmen could advance for their insatiable appetite for beef and the plentiful biltong from the meat of animals killed by the reptile.

Tales of the snake heightened late last year, 2014 when one of the neighbouring farmhands died of venomous snakebite while he slept outdoor next to an open fire. It is said that by the time the old man yelled out in excruciating pain, the reptile had disappeared into the darkness and he died within an hour after being bitten. The story tellers left no doubt which snake they believed was responsible for this tragic loss of human life.

And so it happened that on my latest trip to the farm, I was accompanied by our Zimbabwean farmhand Reason Muchemwa, as usual we arrived fatigued, in the wee hours of the morning after a long and hard drive from Gaborone. We were still in the middle of summer and true to character, the Kalahari Desert night was savagely cold. Unfortunately the base camp compound fire was out by the time we arrived and there was no firewood. We therefore hobbled into the house, slipped into our sleeping bags and attempted to sleep.
 
We barely slept a wink and were up at the crack of dawn. Smarting from the nights bitter cold, I left with one of the lads, Dichauto (DC) Monanga and Reason to collect firewood in the adjacent paddock. Reason hoped into the passenger seat and DC jumped in the back of the Toyota Land Cruiser pickup van. We did not have much time as we still had to take stock of the herd and inoculate against botulism. By the time we had collected half a load of firewood we decided to head back to camp to commence the huge task we had been assigned.

We had veered off the main track to collect the firewood and as I drove back onto the track that leads back to base camp I accelerated the vehicle and out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of what I perceived to be a ‘black plastic bag’ lying by the side of the track some hundred meters ahead. I did not recall seeing the ‘bag’ earlier when we passed but thought this could have been because it was still dark when we first passed the spot where the ‘bag’ was.

I immediately thought this was one of the black Liquorama store plastic bags discarded by one of my brothers who is notorious for throwing empty green bottles of his favourite alcoholic beverage and the plastic packaging indiscriminately out the window of moving vehicles. Over time I have noticed a trail of green bottles and black plastic bags littering the route from our father’s house in Serowe where his trip to the farm often begins in earnest, right up to the farm gate.

On this day, as my crew and I approached the ‘black plastic bag’ I noticed it glitter in the rays of the rising sun. We were now a few meters away from it when the now profound sparkles of the ‘black plastic bag’ began to move and caught my full attention. The ‘black plastic bag’ was in fact not black, but the dark grey hue of the most dangerous and feared snake on the continent, the highly toxic venomous, black mamba. The massive serpent had been coiled and was basking in the morning sun when the noise from the vehicle disturbed it.

Fearing that I was going to run over the snake, I instinctively slammed the brakes on, sending a squirt of jets of sand and dust to the uncoiling reptile. The vehicles noise and the sand must have incensed the snake as within a blink of an eye, before the vehicle could come to a stop, the reptile known for its speed and lethal bite had sprung to life. With its head raised, it thrust its body with lightening speed so that about half a meter of its three meter body length was hovering aggressively and hissing menacingly above the hood of the vehicle, revealing the full spread of its neck-flap, fierce yellow eyes, pitch black mouth, flicking tongue and deadly white fangs.

As the vehicle came to a complete stop, the agitated snake swiftly moved towards the passenger window which was, by Gods grace, rolled all the way up on account of the mornings cold weather. Brushing against the passenger window, the snake revealed its pale brownish underbelly and quickly disappeared under the vehicle. Given its aggression and speed as it brushed its head against the passenger window I am certain I would not be telling this story had it made its way into the cabin and given us both its rapid kiss of death. The species is known for its lethal, rapid, successive strikes.

By this time DC, who had been standing at the back of the vehicle and seen the entire incident unfolding, had jumped off and sprinted to safety faster than Usain Bolt in a hundred meter sprint. With the vehicle now stationary and my heart pounding profusely, beads of cold sweat trickling down my brow, I cautiously disembarked and with a tremble in my gait, I went round to see the massive trail the snake had left behind. The entire incident had happened in a flash and the reptile was nowhere to be found. It had disappeared into the savannah grasslands.

That evening around the camp fire, perhaps out of lingering fear and renewed believe in African taboo, there was no mention of the word snake or the near death incident and despite the bitter cold and discomfort, I chose to sleep in the cramped cabin of the vehicle that night.

The following morning Reason and I drove back to Gaborone via Serowe. Once I got home I dug up information on the black mamba and learnt that the snake is one of the fastest moving snakes in the world. The adult snake’s length ranges from two meters to four and half meters long. The snake is able to raise its head well off the ground and in striking may be able to throw as much as 40% of its body upwards allowing for considerable striking range of up to the chest of a fully grown man. Its venom is highly toxic and can cause death within 45 minutes or less.

Knowing how lucky we had been in our encounter with the lethal snake, I said a quiet prayer thanking God for his mercy and watching over us. I had lived to tell this story.

Meanwhile back on the ranch, the legend of the monstrous serpent lives on.