Wild Fears

We make our way stealthily through the inky darkness.   There is no light other than the dim beam from our torch.   I am not used to the bush and every rustle conjures up visions of wild animals lying in wait to pounce on me.    My husband enjoys my discomfiture and teases continuously telling me that jackals have their lairs just metres from our rondawel.

I giggle nervously half believing him.   It has been storming but now the night is still and fresh.  I open the door and a wild creature leaps out knocking me off my feet.   I gasp and shriek.   The creature is on top of me pinning me to the ground.   I feel his hot breath on my cheek and brace myself for its vicious fangs to tear into my flesh.  But instead, I am suddenly covered with wet licks from the farmer’s German Shepherd.   During the storm he’d jumped in through the window and settled down for a nap, which we have now interrupted!    Hubby is beside himself with laughter while I am hopping mad!

Exhausted now we settle down for the night. But wait what’s that I see.  “My gosh, Darling, there’s a snake in the thatch!”

“Relax,” assures my hero – I’ll get him out.   He gets up and ties a hook – gaff style – to his rod, but too late the snake suspecting danger slithers into the thatch and disappears.

“He has to sleep,” – Hubby says – “we’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Exhausted by my hectic day I finally drop into a troubled sleep.  Suddenly I am woken with a feeling of foreboding.   I sense my husband stiff and in a cold sweat beside me.

“What?” I say –

“SHHH,” he says,  “Don’t move!     Something hit my wrist  – It’s lying next to us.”

Move? – I’m rigid with fear – not a muscle will obey me.   He whips the cover off and shines the torch beside us and there, black and terrifying and curled up fast asleep – is an enormous Songololo!

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