THE DEATH OF THE FIRST MAN-EATER
A day or two after the departure of my allies, as I was leaving my boma
soon after dawn on December 9, I saw a Swahili running excitedly
towards me, shouting out "Simba! Simba!" ("Lion! Lion!"), and every now
and again looking behind him as he ran. On questioning him I found that
the lions had tried to snatch a man from the camp by the river, but
being foiled in this had seized and killed one of the donkeys, and were
at that moment busy devouring it not far off. Now was my chance.
I rushed for the heavy rifle which Farquhar had kindly left with me for
use in case an opportunity such as this should arise, and, led by the
Swahili, I started most carefully to stalk the lions, who, I devoutly
hoped, were confining their attention strictly to their meal. I was
getting on splendidly, and could just make out the outline of one of
them through the dense bush, when unfortunately my guide snapped a
rotten branch. The wily beast heard the noise, growled his defiance,
and disappeared in a moment into a patch of even thicker jungle close
by. In desperation at the thought of his escaping me once again, I
crept hurriedly back to the camp, summoned the available workmen and
told them to bring all the tom-toms, tin cans, and other noisy
instruments of any kind that could be found. As quickly as possible I
posted them in a half-circle round the thicket, and gave the head
jemadar instructions to start a simultaneous beating of the tom-toms
and cans as soon as he judged that I had had time to get round to the
other side. I then crept round by myself and soon found a good position
and one which the lion was most likely to retreat past, as it was in
the middle of a broad animal path leading straight from the place where
he was concealed. I lay down behind a small ant hill, and waited
expectantly. Very soon I heard a tremendous din being raised by the
advancing line of coolies, and almost immediately, to my intense joy,
out into the open path stepped a huge maneless lion. It was the first
occasion during all these trying months upon which I had had a fair
chance at one of these brutes, and my satisfaction at the prospect of
bagging him was unbounded.
Slowly he advanced along the path, stopping every few seconds to look
round. I was only partially concealed from view, and if his attention
had not been so fully occupied by the noise behind him, he must have
observed me. As he was oblivious to my presence, however, I let him
approach to within about fifteen yards of me, and then covered him with
my rifle. The moment I moved to do this, he caught sight of me, and
seemed much astonished at my sudden appearance, for he stuck his
forefeet into the ground, threw himself back on his haunches and
growled savagely. As I covered his brain with my rifle, I felt that at
last I had him absolutely at my mercy, but .... never trust an
untried weapon! I pulled the trigger, and to my horror heard the dull
snap that tells of a misfire.
Worse was to follow. I was so taken aback and disconcerted by this
untoward accident that I entirely forgot to fire the left barrel, and
lowered the rifle from my shoulder with the intention of reloading--if
I should be given time. Fortunately for me, the lion was so distracted
by the terrific din and uproar of the coolies behind him that instead
of springing on me, as might have been expected, he bounded aside into
the jungle again. By this time I had collected my wits, and just as he
jumped I let him have the left barrel. An answering angry growl told me
that he had been hit; but nevertheless he succeeded once more in
getting clear away, for although I tracked him for some little
distance, I eventually lost his trail in a rocky patch of ground.
Bitterly did I anathematise the hour in which I had relied on a
borrowed weapon, and in my disappointment and vexation I abused owner,
maker, and rifle with fine impartiality. On extracting the unexploded
cartridge, I found that the needle had not struck home, the cap being
only slightly dented; so that the whole fault did indeed lie with the
rifle, which I later returned to Farquhar with polite compliments.
Seriously, however, my continued ill-luck was most exasperating; and
the result was that the Indians were more than ever confirmed in their
belief that the lions were really evil spirits, proof against mortal
weapons. Certainly, they did seem to bear charmed lives.
After this dismal failure there was, of course, nothing to do but to
return to camp. Before doing so, however, I proceeded to view the dead
donkey, which I found to have been only slightly devoured it the
quarters. It is a curious fact that lions always begin at the tail of
their prey and eat upwards towards the head. As their meal had thus
been interrupted evidently at the very beginning, I felt pretty sure
that one or other of the brutes would return to the carcase at
nightfall. Accordingly, as there was no tree of any kind close at hand,
I had a staging erected some ten feet away from the body. This machan
was about twelve feet high and was composed of four poles stuck into
the ground and inclined towards each other at the top, where a plank
was lashed to serve as a seat. Further, as the nights were still pitch
dark, I had the donkey's carcase secured by strong wires to a
neighbouring stump, so that the lions might not be able to drag it away
before I could get a shot at them.
At sundown, therefore, I took up my position on my airy perch, and much
to the disgust of my gun-bearer, Mahina, I decided to go alone. I would
gladly have taken him with me, indeed, but he had a bad cough, and I
was afraid lest he should make any involuntary noise or movement which
might spoil all. Darkness fell almost immediately, and everything
became extraordinarily still. The silence of an African jungle on a
dark night needs to be experienced to be realised; it is most
impressive, especially when one is absolutely alone and isolated from
one's fellow creatures, as I was then. The solitude and stillness, and
the purpose of my vigil, all had their effect on me, and from a
condition of strained expectancy I gradually fell into a dreamy mood
which harmonised well with my surroundings. Suddenly I was startled out
of my reverie by the snapping of a twig: and, straining my ears for a
further sound, I fancied I could hear the rustling of a large body
forcing its way through the bush. "The man-eater," I thought to myself;
"surely to-night my luck will change and I shall bag one of the
brutes." Profound silence again succeeded; I sat on my eyrie like a
statue, every nerve tense with excitement. Very soon, however, all
doubt as to the presence of the lion was dispelled. A deep long-drawn
sigh--sure sign of hunger--came up from the bushes, and the rustling
commenced again as he cautiously advanced. In a moment or two a sudden
stop, followed by an angry growl, told me that my presence had been
noticed; and I began to fear that disappointment awaited me once more.
But no; matters quickly took an unexpected turn. The hunter became the
hunted; and instead of either making off or coming for the bait
prepared for him, the lion began stealthily to stalk me! For about two
hours he horrified me by slowly creeping round and round my crazy
structure, gradually edging his way nearer and nearer. Every moment I
expected him to rush it; and the staging had not been constructed with
an eye to such a possibility. If one of the rather flimsy poles should
break, or if the lion could spring the twelve feet which separated me
from the ground ... the thought was scarcely a pleasant one. I began
to feel distinctly "creepy," and heartily repented my folly in having
placed myself in such a dangerous position. I kept perfectly still,
however, hardly daring even to blink my eyes: but the long-continued
strain was telling on my nerves, and my feelings may be better imagined
than described when about midnight suddenly something came flop and
struck me on the back of the head. For a moment I was so terrified that
I nearly fell off the plank, as I thought that the lion had sprung on
me from behind. Regaining my senses in a second or two, I realised that
I had been hit by nothing more formidable than an owl, which had
doubtless mistaken me for the branch of a tree--not a very alarming
thing to happen in ordinary circumstances, I admit, but coming at the
time it did, it almost paralysed me. The involuntary start which I
could not help giving was immediately answered by a sinister growl from
below.
After this I again kept as still as I could, though absolutely
trembling with excitement; and in a short while I heard the lion begin
to creep stealthily towards me. I could barely make out his form as he
crouched among the whitish undergrowth; but I saw enough for my
purpose, and before he could come any nearer, I took careful aim and
pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot was at once followed by a
most terrific roar, and then I could hear him leaping about in all
directions. I was no longer able to see him, however, as his first
bound had taken him into the thick bush; but to make assurance doubly
sure, I kept blazing away in the direction in which I heard him
plunging about. At length came a series of mighty groans, gradually
subsiding into deep sighs, and finally ceasing altogether; and I felt
convinced that one of the "devils" who had so long harried us would
trouble us no more.
As soon as I ceased firing, a tumult of inquiring voices was borne
across the dark jungle from the men in camp about a quarter of a mile
away. I shouted back that I was safe and sound, and that one of the
lions was dead: whereupon such a mighty cheer went up from all the
camps as must have astonished the denizens of the jungle for miles
around. Shortly I saw scores of lights twinkling through the bushes:
every man in camp turned out, and with tom-toms beating and horns
blowing came running to the scene. They surrounded my eyrie, and to my
amazement prostrated themselves on the ground before me, saluting me
with cries of "Mabarak! Mabarak!" which I believe means "blessed one"
or "saviour." All the same, I refused to allow any search to be made
that night for the body of the lion, in case his companion might be
close by; besides, it was possible that he might be still alive, and
capable of making a last spring. Accordingly we all returned in triumph
to the camp, where great rejoicings were kept up for the remainder of
the night, the Swahili and other African natives celebrating the
occasion by an especially wild and savage dance.
For my part, I anxiously awaited the dawn; and even before it was
thoroughly light I was on my way to the eventful spot, as I could not
completely persuade myself that even yet the "devil" might not have
eluded me in some uncanny and mysterious way. Happily my fears proved
groundless, and I was relieved to find that my luck--after playing me
so many exasperating tricks--had really turned at last. I had scarcely
traced the blood for more than a few paces when, on rounding a bush, I
was startled to see a huge lion right in front of me, seemingly alive
and crouching for a spring. On looking closer, however, I satisfied
myself that he was really and truly stone-dead, whereupon my followers
crowded round, laughed and danced and shouted with joy like children,
and bore me in triumph shoulder-high round the dead body. These
thanksgiving ceremonies being over, I examined the body and found that
two bullets had taken effect--one close behind the left shoulder,
evidently penetrating the heart, and the other in the off hind leg. The
prize was indeed one to be proud of; his length from tip of nose to tip
of tail was nine feet eight inches, he stood three feet nine inches
high, and it took eight men to carry him back to camp. The only blemish
was that the skin was much scored by the boma thorns through which he
had so often forced his way in carrying off his victims.
The news of the death of one of the notorious man-eaters soon spread
far and wide over the country: telegrams of congratulation came pouring
in, and scores of people flocked from up and down the railway to see
the skin for themselves.