LIONS ON THE ATHI PLAINS
Shortly after I took charge at railhead we entered the Kapiti Plain,
which gradually merges into the Athi Plain, and, indeed, is hardly to
be distinguished from the latter in the appearance or general character
of the country. Together they form a great tract of rolling downs
covered with grass, and intersected here and there by dry ravines,
along the baked banks of which a few stunted trees--the only ones to be
seen--struggle to keep themselves alive. In all this expanse there is
absolutely no water in the dry season, except in the Athi River (some
forty miles away) and in a few water-holes known only to the wild
animals. The great feature of the undulating plains, however, and the
one which gives them a never-failing interest, is the great abundance
of game of almost every conceivable kind. Here I myself have seen lion,
rhinoceros, leopard, eland, giraffe, zebra, wildebeeste, hartebeeste,
waterbuck, wart-hog, Granti, Thomsoni, impala, besides ostriches,
greater and lesser bustard, marabout, and a host of other animals and
birds too numerous to name; while along the Athi and close to its banks
may be found large numbers of hippo and crocodiles. At the time I was
there, these great plains also formed the principal grazing ground for
the immense herds of cattle owned by the Masai. I am very glad to say
that the whole of this country on the south side of the railway as far
as the boundary of German East Africa, from the Tsavo River on the east
to the Kedong Valley on the west, is now a strictly protected Game
Reserve; and so long, as this huge expanse is thus maintained as a
sanctuary, there can be no danger of any of these species becoming
extinct.
While crossing this dry expanse, the greatest difficulty I had to
contend with was the provision of sufficient water for the three
thousand workmen employed about railhead, for not a drop could be
obtained on the way, nor could we hope for any until we had got to the
other side of the plain and had reached the Athi River, which could not
be accomplished under a couple of months. As we progressed onwards into
the waterless belt, this became a very serious matter indeed, as any
breakdown in the supply would have had the most disastrous consequences
among so large a body of men working all day under the blazing sun of a
tropical climate. Every day two trainloads of water in great tanks were
brought up from the last stream we had passed, which, of course, daily
fell further to the rear. This was a source of considerable delay, for
the line was blocked all the time the water was being pumped into the
tanks, and consequently no material for construction could come
through; and a good deal of time was also wasted, when the trains
returned to railhead, in distributing the water to the workmen, who
often quarrelled and fought in their eagerness to get at it. At first I
had most of the tank-filling done by night, but on one occasion a lion
came unpleasantly close to the men working the pump, and so night work
had to be abandoned. The coolies themselves were so anxious, indeed, to
get a plentiful supply of water, that once or twice some of the more
daring spirits among them ventured to go out on to the plains in search
of waterholes, which, by reason of the large herds of game, we knew
must exist somewhere. The only result of these expeditions, however,
was that three of these men never returned; what befell them is not
known to this day.
When we had proceeded some distance across this dry land, and when I
was experiencing to the full the disadvantage and delay caused by my
tank trains, a native from some remote corner of the plains--with
nothing by way of dress but a small piece of cowhide thrown over his
left shoulder--came to my tent door one day and squatted down on his
heels in the native fashion. On being asked his business, "I have
heard," he replied, "that the Great Master wants water; I can show it
to him." This was good news, if it could be relied upon; so I
questioned him closely, and ascertained that some time
previously--exactly how long ago I could not gather--he had been in the
locality on a raiding expedition and had succeeded in finding water. I
asked if the place was far away, and got the reply in Swahili "M'bali
kidogo" ("A little distance"). Now, I had had experience of M'bali
kidogo before; it is like the Irishman's "mile and a bit." So I decided
to start very early next morning on a search for this pond--for such my
informant described it to be. In the meantime the poor fellow, who
appeared starving--there was a sore famine among the natives of the
district at the time--was given food and drink, and made a ravenous
meal. In the evening I had a long talk with him in broken Swahili round
the camp fire, and obtained some insight into many of the strange and
barbarous customs of the Masai, to which interesting tribe he belonged.
In the morning I started off betimes, taking my .303 rifle and being
accompanied by Mahina with the 12-bore shot-gun, and by another Indian
carrying the necessary food and water. Our Masai guide, whose name we
found to be Lungow, seemed to be quite certain of his way, and led us
across the rolling plains more or less in the direction in which the
railway was to run, but some miles to the right of its centre-line. The
march was full of interest, for on the way we passed within easy range
of herds of wildebeeste, hartebeeste, gazelle, and zebra. I was out
strictly on business, however, and did not attempt a shot, reserving
that pleasure for the homeward trip. Late in the forenoon we arrived at
Lungow's pond--a circular dip about eighty yards in diameter, which
without doubt had contained water very recently, but which, as I
expected to find, was now quite dry. A considerable number of bones lay
scattered round it, whether of "kills" or of animals which had died of
thirst I could not say. Our guide appeared very much upset when he
found the pond empty, and gave vent to many exclamations in his
peculiar language, in which the letter "r" rolled like a kettledrum.
Our search for water having thus proved a failure, I determined to try
my luck with the game. The Masai and the Indian were sent back to camp,
while Mahina and I made a big detour from the dried-up water-hole. Game
abounded in all directions, but the animals were much more shy than
they had been in the morning, and it was in vain that I stalked--if it
can be called "stalking," when as a matter of fact one has to move in
the open--splendid specimens of Thomson's and Grant's gazelle. I might
have attempted a shot once or twice, but the probability was that owing
to the long range it would have resulted only in a wound, and I think
there is nothing so painful as to see an animal limping about in a
crippled condition. In this fruitless manner we covered several miles,
and I was beginning to think that we should have to return to camp
without so much as firing a shot. Just then, however, I saw a herd of
wildebeeste, and with much care managed to get within three hundred
yards of them. I singled out the biggest head and waiting for a
favourable moment, fired at him, dropping him at once. I ran up to the
fallen beast, which appeared to be dying, and told Mahina to drive the
hunting knife right through his heart so as to put him quickly out of
all pain. As Mahina was not doing this as skilfully or as quickly as I
thought it might be done, and seemed unable to pierce the tough hide, I
handed him my rifle and took the knife in order to do it myself. Just
as I raised the knife to strike, I was startled by the wildebeeste
suddenly jumping to his feet. For a moment he stood looking at me in a
dazed and tottery kind of way, and then to my amazement he turned and
made off. At first he moved with such a shaky and uncertain gait that I
felt confident that he could only go a few yards before dropping; so,
as I did not wish to disturb the other game around us by firing a
second shot, I thought it best just to wait. To my utter astonishment,
however, after he had staggered for about sixty yards he seemed to
revive suddenly, broke into his ordinary gallop and quickly rejoined
the herd. From that time I lost all trace of him, though I followed up
for four or five miles.
The wildebeeste, in fact, is like Kipling's Fuzzy-Wuzzy--"'e's
generally shammin' when 'e's dead"; and my friend Rawson about this
time had an experience very similar to mine, but attended with more
serious results. He had knocked his wildebeeste over in much the same
way, and thought it was dead; and as he was very keen on obtaining
photographs of game, he took his stand-camera from the Indian who
carried it and proceeded to focus it on the animal's head. When he was
just about to take the picture, he was thunderstruck to see the
wildebeeste jump up and come charging down upon him. He sprang quickly
aside, and in an instant up went the camera into the air, followed the
next moment by the unfortunate Indian, the wildebeeste having stuck its
horn right through the man's thigh and tossed him over its back.
Fortunately the brute fell dead after this final effort, leaving Rawson
grateful for his escape.
After abandoning the chase of my wildebeeste, we had not gone far on
our way towards the home camp when I thought I observed something of a
reddish colour moving in a patch of long grass, a good distance to our
left front. I asked Mahina if he could make out what it was, but he was
unable to do so, and before I could get my field-glasses to bear, the
animal, whatever it was, had disappeared into the grass. I kept my eye
on the spot, however, and we gradually approached it. When we were
about a hundred yards off, the reddish object again appeared; and I saw
that it was nothing less than the shaggy head of a lion peeping over
the long grass. This time Mahina also saw what it was, and called out,
"Dekko, Sahib, sher!" ("Look, Master, a lion!"). I whispered to him to
be quiet and to take no notice of him, while I tried my best to follow
my own advice. So we kept on, edging up towards the beast, but
apparently oblivious of his presence, as he lay there grimly watching
us. As we drew nearer, I asked Mahina in a whisper if he felt equal to
facing a charge from the sher if I should wound him. He answered simply
that where I went, there would he go also; and right well he kept his
word.
I watched the lion carefully out of the corner of my eye as we closed
in. Every now and then he would disappear from view for a moment; and
it was a fascinating sight to see how he slowly raised his massive head
above the top of the grass again and gazed calmly and steadily at us as
we neared him. Unfortunately I could not distinguish the outline of his
body, hidden as it was in the grassy thicket. I therefore circled
cautiously round in order to see if the cover was sufficiently thin at
the back to make a shoulder shot possible; but as we moved, the lion
also twisted round and so always kept his head full on us. When I had
described a half-circle, I found that the grass was no thinner and that
my chances of a shot had not improved. We were now within seventy yards
of the lion, who appeared to take the greater interest in us the closer
we approached. He had lost the sleepy look with which he had at first
regarded us, and was now fully on the alert; but still he did not give
me the impression that he meant to charge, and no doubt if we had not
provoked him, he would have allowed us to depart in peace. I, however,
was bent on war, in spite of the risk which one must always run by
attacking a lion at such close quarters on an open plain as flat as the
palm of the hand; so in a standing position I took careful aim at his
head, and fired. The distance was, as I have said, a bare seventy
yards; yet I must confess to a disgraceful miss. More astonishing
still, the beast made not the slightest movement--did not even blink an
eye, so far as I could see--but continued his steadfast, questioning
gaze. Again I took aim, this time for a spot below the tip of his nose,
and again I fired--with more success, the lion turning a complete
somersault over his tail. I thought he was done for, but he instantly
sprang to his feet again, and to my horror and astonishment was joined
by a lioness whose presence we had never even thought of or suspected.
Worse was still to follow, for to our dismay both made a most
determined charge on us, bounding along at a great pace and roaring
angrily as they came. Poor Mahina cried out, "Sahib, do sher ata hai!"
("Master, two lions are coming!"), but I told him to stand stock-still
and for his life not to make the slightest movement. In the twinkling
of an eye the two beasts had covered about forty yards of the distance
towards us. As they did not show the least sign of stopping, I thought
we had given the experiment of remaining absolutely motionless a fair
trial, and was just about to raise the rifle to my shoulder as a last
resort, when suddenly the wounded lion stopped, staggered, and fell to
the ground. The lioness took a couple of bounds nearer to us, and then
to my unmeasured relief turned to look round for her mate, who had by
this time managed to get to his feet again. There they both stood,
growling viciously and lashing their tails, for what appeared to me to
be a succession of ages. The lioness then made up her mind to go back
to the lion, and they both stood broadside on, with their heads close
together and turned towards us, snarling in a most aggressive manner.
Had either of us moved hand or foot just then, it would, I am
convinced, have at once brought on another and probably a fatal charge.
As the two great brutes stood in this position looking at us, I had, of
course, a grand opportunity of dropping both, but I confess I did not
feel equal to it at the moment. I could only devoutly hope that they
would not renew their attack, and was only too thankful to let them
depart in peace if they would, without any further hostility on my
part. Just at this juncture the lion seemed to grow suddenly very weak.
He staggered some ten yards back towards his lair, and then fell to the
ground; the lioness followed, and lay down beside him--both still
watching us, and growling savagely. After a few seconds the lion
struggled to his feet again and retreated a little further, the lioness
accompanying him until he fell once more. A third time the same thing
took place, and at last I began to breathe more freely, as they had now
reached the thicket from which they had originally emerged. Accordingly
I took a shot at the lioness as she lay beside her mate, partly
concealed in the long grass. I do not think I hit her, but anyhow she
at once made off and bounded away at a great rate on emerging into the
open.
I sent a few bullets after her to speed her on her way, and then
cautiously approached the wounded lion. He was stretched out at full
length on his side, with his back towards me, but I could see by the
heaving of his flanks that he was not yet dead, so I put a bullet
through his spine. He never moved after this; but for safety's sake, I
made no attempt to go up to him for a few minutes, and then only after
Mahina had planted a few stones on his body just to make sure that he
was really dead.
We both felt very pleased with ourselves as we stood over him and
looked at his fine head, great paws, and long, clean, sharp tusks. He
was a young, but full-grown lion in fine condition, and measured nine
feet eight and a half inches from tip of nose to tip of tail. My last
shot had entered the spine close to the shoulder, and had lodged in the
body; the first shot was a miss; as I have already said; but the second
had caught him on the forehead, right between the eyes. The bullet,
however, instead of traversing the brain, had been turned downwards by
the frontal bone, through which it crashed, finally lodging in the root
of the tongue, the lead showing on both sides. I cut out the tongue and
hung it up to dry, intending to keep it as a trophy; but unfortunately
a vulture swooped down when my back was turned, and carried it off.
From the time I knocked the lion over until he first staggered and fell
not more than a minute could have elapsed--quite long enough, however,
to have enabled him to cover the distance and to have seized one or
other of us. Unquestionably we owed our lives to the fact that we both
remained absolutely motionless; and I cannot speak too highly of Mahina
for the splendid way in which he stood the charge. Had he acted as did
another gun-boy I know of, the affair might not have had so happy an
ending. This gun-boy went out with Captain G---- in this very
neighbourhood, and not long after our adventure. G---- came across a
lion just as we did, and wounded it. It charged down on them, but
instead of remaining absolutely still, the terrified gun-boy fled, with
the result that the lion came furiously on, and poor G---- met with a
terrible death.
While Mahina was scouring the neighbourhood in search of some natives
to carry the skin back to camp, I took a good look round the place and
found the half-eaten body of a zebra, which I noticed had been killed
out in the open and then dragged into the long grass. The tracks told
me, also, that all the work had been done by the lion, and this set me
thinking of the lioness. I accordingly swept the plain with my glasses
in the direction in which she had bounded off, and after some searching
I discovered her about a mile away, apparently lying down in the midst
of a herd of hartebeeste, who grazed away without taking any notice of
her. I felt much inclined to follow her up, but I was afraid that if I
did so the vultures that were already hovering around would settle on
my lion and spoil the skin, for the destruction of which these ravenous
birds are capable, even in the space of only a few minutes, is almost
beyond belief. I accordingly returned to the dead beast and sat down
astride of him. I had read that a frontal shot at a lion was a very
risky one, and on carefully examining the head it was easy to see the
reason; for owing to the sharp backward slope of the forehead it is
almost impossible for a bullet fired in this manner to reach the brain.
As there were lots of lions about in this district and as I wanted to
bag some more, I set myself to think out a plan whereby the risk of a
frontal shot might be got rid of. About a fortnight afterwards I had an
opportunity of putting my scheme into practice, happily with most
excellent results; this, however, is another story, which will be told
later on.
I next commenced to skin my trophy and found it a very tough job to
perform by myself. He proved to be a very fat beast, so I knew that
Mahina would make a few honest and well-earned rupees out of him, for
Indians will give almost anything for lion fat, believing that it is an
infallible cure for rheumatism and various other diseases. When at
length the skinning process was completed, I waited impatiently for the
return of Mahina, who had by this time been gone much longer than I
expected. It is rather a nerve shattering thing--I am speaking for
myself--to remain absolutely alone for hours on a vast open plain
beside the carcase of a dead lion, with vultures incessantly wheeling
about above one, and with nothing to be seen or heard for miles around
except wild animals. It was a great relief, therefore, when after a
long wait I saw Mahina approaching with half-a-dozen practically naked
natives in his train. It turned out that he had lost his way back to
me, so that it was lucky he found me at all. We lost no time in getting
back to camp, arriving there just at sundown, when my first business
was to rub wood ashes into the skin and then stretch it on a portable
frame which I had made a few days previously. The camp fire was a big
one that night, and the graphic and highly coloured description which
Mahina gave to the eager circle of listeners of the way in which we
slew the lion would have made even "Bahram, that great Hunter," anxious
for his fame.