A WIDOW'S STORY
Very shortly before I left Tsavo I went (on March 11, 1899) on
inspection duty to Voi, which, as I have already mentioned, is about
thirty miles on the Mombasa side of Tsavo. At this time it was a
miserable, swampy spot, where fever, guinea-worm, and all kinds of
horrible diseases were rampant; but this state of affairs has now been
completely altered by drainage and by clearing away the jungle. Dr.
Rose was in medical charge of the place at the time of my visit, and as
it was the good old custom to put up with any friend one came across
towards nightfall, I made him my host when my day's work was over. We
spent a very pleasant evening together, and naturally discussed all the
local news. Amongst other things we chatted about the new road which
was being constructed from Voi to a rather important missionary station
called Taveta, near Mount Kilima N'jaro, and Dr. Rose mentioned that
Mr. O'Hara (the engineer in charge of the road-making), with his wife
and children, was encamped in the Wa Taita country, about twelve miles
away from Voi.
Early next morning I went out for a stroll with my shot-gun, but had
not gone far from the doctor's tent when I saw in the distance four
Swahili carrying something which looked like a stretcher along the
newly-made road. Fearing that some accident had happened, I went
quickly to meet them and called out to ask what they were carrying.
They shouted back "Bwana" ("The master"); and when I asked what bwana,
they replied "Bwana O'Hara." On enquiring what exactly had happened,
they told me that during the night their master had been killed by a
lion, and that his wife and children were following behind, along the
road. At this I directed the men to the hospital and told them where to
find Dr. Rose, and without waiting to hear any further particulars
hurried on as fast as possible to give what assistance I could to poor
Mrs. O'Hara. Some considerable way back I met her toiling along with an
infant in her arms, while a little child held on to her skirt, utterly
tired out with the long walk. I helped her to finish the distance to
the doctor's tent; she was so unstrung by her terrible night's
experience and so exhausted by her trying march carrying the baby that
she was scarcely able to speak. Dr. Rose at once did all he could both
for her and for the children, the mother being given a sleeping draught
and made comfortable in one of the tents. When she appeared again late
in the afternoon she was much refreshed, and was able to tell us the
following dreadful story, which I shall give as nearly as possible in
her own words.
"We were all asleep in the tent, my husband and I in one bed and my two
children in another. The baby was feverish and restless, so I got up to
give her something to drink; and as I was doing so, I heard what I
thought was a lion walking round the tent. I at once woke my husband
and told him I felt sure there was a lion about. He jumped up and went
out, taking his gun with him. He looked round the outside of the tent,
and spoke to the Swahili askari who was on sentry by the camp fire a
little distance off. The askari said he had seen nothing about except a
donkey, so my husband came in again, telling me not to worry as it was
only a donkey that I had heard.
"The night being very hot, my husband threw back the tent door and lay
down again beside me. After a while I dozed off, but was suddenly
roused by a feeling as if the pillow were being pulled away from under
my head. On looking round I found that my husband was gone. I jumped up
and called him loudly, but got no answer. Just then I heard a noise
among the boxes outside the door, so I rushed out and saw my poor
husband lying between the boxes. I ran up to him and tried to lift him,
but found I could not do so. I then called to the askari to come and
help me, but he refused, saying that there was a lion standing beside
me. I looked up and saw the huge beast glowering at me, not more than
two yards away. At this moment the askari fired his rifle, and this
fortunately frightened the lion, for it at once jumped off into the
bush.
"All four askaris then came forward and lifted my husband back on to
the bed. He was quite dead. We had hardly got back into the tent before
the lion returned and prowled about in front of the door, showing every
intention of springing in to recover his prey. The askaris fired at
him, but did no damage beyond frightening him away again for a moment
or two. He soon came back and continued to walk round the tent until
daylight, growling and purring, and it was only by firing through the
tent every now and then that we kept him out. At daybreak he
disappeared and I had my husband's body carried here, while I followed
with the children until I met you."
Such was Mrs. O'Hara's pitiful story. The only comfort we could give
her was to assure her that her husband had died instantly and without
pain; for while she had been resting Dr. Rose had made a post-mortem
examination of the body and had come to this conclusion. He found that
O'Hara had evidently been lying on his back at the time, and that the
lion, seizing his head in its mouth, had closed its long tusks through
his temples until they met again in the brain. We buried him before
nightfall in a peaceful spot close by, the doctor reading the funeral
service, while I assisted in lowering the rude coffin into the grave.
It was the saddest scene imaginable. The weeping widow, the wondering
faces of the children, the gathering gloom of the closing evening, the
dusky forms of a few natives who had gathered round--all combined to
make a most striking and solemn ending to a very terrible tragedy of
real life.
I am glad to say that within a few weeks' time the lion that was
responsible for this tragedy was killed by a poisoned arrow, shot from
a tree top by one of the Wa Taita.