“We never bathed in that pool again; indeed for my part I could never
look at its peaceful purity fringed round with waving ferns without
thinking of that ghastly head which rolled itself off through the water
when we tried to catch it.
“Poor Jim-Jim! We buried what was left of him, which was not very much,
in an old bread-bag, and though whilst he lived his virtues were not
great, now that he was gone we could have wept over him. Indeed, Harry
did weep outright; while Pharaoh used very bad language in Zulu, and I
registered a quiet little vow on my account that I would let daylight
into that lioness before I was forty-eight hours older, if by any means
it could be done.
“Well, we buried him, and there he lies in the bread-bag (which I
rather grudged him, as it was the only one we had), where lions will not
trouble him any more--though perhaps the hyænas will, if they consider
that there is enough on him left to make it worth their while to dig
him up. However, he won’t mind that; so there is an end of the book of
Jim-Jim.
“The question that now remained was, how to circumvent his murderess. I
knew that she would be sure to return as soon as she was hungry again,
but I did not know when she would be hungry. She had left so little of
Jim-Jim behind her that I should scarcely expect to see her the next
night, unless indeed she had cubs. Still, I felt that it would not
be wise to miss the chance of her coming, so we set about making
preparations for her reception. The first thing that we did was to
strengthen the bush wall of the skerm by dragging a large quantity of
the tops of thorn-trees together, and laying them one on the other
in such a fashion that the thorns pointed outwards. This, after our
experience of the fate of Jim-Jim, seemed a very necessary precaution,
since if where one goat can jump another can follow, as the Kaffirs say,
how much more is this the case when an animal so active and so vigorous
as the lion is concerned! And now came the further question, how were we
to beguile the lioness to return? Lions are animals that have a strange
knack of appearing when they are not wanted, and keeping studiously out
of the way when their presence is required. Of course it was possible
that if she had found Jim-Jim to her liking she would come back to see
if there were any more of his kind about, but still it was not to be
relied on.
“Harry, who as I have said was an eminently practical boy, suggested to
Pharaoh that he should go and sit outside the skerm in the moonlight as
a sort of bait, assuring him that he would have nothing to fear, as
we should certainly kill the lioness before she killed him. Pharaoh
however, strangely enough, did not seem to take to this suggestion.
Indeed, he walked away, much put out with Harry for having made it.
“It gave me an idea, however.
“‘By Jove!’ I said, ‘there is the sick ox. He must die sooner or later,
so we may as well utilize him.’
“Now, about thirty yards to the left of our skerm, as one stood facing
down the hill towards the river, was the stump of a tree that had been
destroyed by lightning many years before, standing equidistant between,
but a little in front of, two clumps of bush, which were severally some
fifteen paces from it.
“Here was the very place to tie the ox; and accordingly a little before
sunset the sick animal was led forth by Pharaoh and made fast there,
little knowing, poor brute, for what purpose; and we began our long
vigil, this time without a fire, for our object was to attract the
lioness and not to scare her.
“For hour after hour we waited, keeping ourselves awake by pinching each
other--it is, by the way, remarkable what a difference of opinion as
to the force of pinches requisite to the occasion exists in the mind of
pincher and pinched--but no lioness came. At last the moon went down,
and darkness swallowed up the world, as the Kaffirs say, but no lions
came to swallow us up. We waited till dawn, because we did not dare to
go to sleep, and then at last with many bad thoughts in our hearts we
took such rest as we could get, and that was not much.
“That morning we went out shooting, not because we wanted to, for we
were too depressed and tired, but because we had no more meat. For three
hours or more we wandered about in a broiling sun looking for something
to kill, but with absolutely no results. For some unknown reason the
game had grown very scarce about the spot, though when I was there two
years before every sort of large game except rhinoceros and elephant
was particularly abundant. The lions, of whom there were many, alone
remained, and I fancy that it was the fact of the game they live on
having temporarily migrated which made them so daring and ferocious. As
a general rule a lion is an amiable animal enough if he is left alone,
but a hungry lion is almost as dangerous as a hungry man. One hears a
great many different opinions expressed as to whether or no the lion is
remarkable for his courage, but the result of my experience is that very
much depends upon the state of his stomach. A hungry lion will not stick
at a trifle, whereas a full one will flee at a very small rebuke.
“Well, we hunted all about, and nothing could we see, not even a duiker
or a bush buck; and at last, thoroughly tired and out of temper, we
started on our way back to camp, passing over the brow of a steepish
hill to do so. Just as we climbed the crest of the ridge I came to a
stand, for there, about six hundred yards to my left, his beautiful
curved horns outlined against the soft blue of the sky, I saw a noble
koodoo bull (_Strepsiceros kudu_). Even at that distance, for as you
know my eyes are very keen, I could distinctly see the white stripes
on its side when the light fell upon it, and its large and pointed ears
twitch as the flies worried it.
“So far so good; but how were we to get at it? It was ridiculous to risk
a shot at that great distance, and yet both the ground and the wind lay
very ill for stalking. It seemed to me that the only chance would be to
make a detour of at least a mile or more, and come up on the other side
of the koodoo. I called Harry to my side, and explained to him what I
thought would be our best course, when suddenly, without any delay, the
koodoo saved us further trouble by suddenly starting off down the hill
like a leaping rocket. I do not know what had frightened it, certainly
we had not. Perhaps a hyæna or a leopard--a tiger as we call it
there--had suddenly appeared; at any rate, off it went, running
slightly towards us, and I never saw a buck go faster. I am afraid that
forgetting Harry’s presence I used strong language, and really there
was some excuse. As for Harry, he stood watching the beautiful animal’s
course. Presently it vanished behind a patch of bush, to emerge a
few seconds later about five hundred paces from us, on a stretch of
comparatively level ground that was strewn with boulders. On it went,
clearing the boulders in its path with a succession of great bounds
that were beautiful to behold. As it did so, I happened to look round at
Harry, and perceived to my astonishment that he had got his rifle to his
shoulder.
“‘You young donkey!’ I exclaimed, ‘surely you are not going to’--and
just at that moment the rifle went off.
“And then I think I saw what was in its way one of the most wonderful
things I ever remember in my hunting experience. The koodoo was at the
moment in the air, clearing a pile of stones with its fore-legs tucked
up underneath it. All of an instant the legs stretched themselves out
in a spasmodic fashion, it lit on them, and they doubled up beneath it.
Down went the noble buck, down upon his head. For a moment he seemed to
be standing on his horns, his hind-legs high in the air, and then over
he rolled and lay still.
“‘Great Heavens!’ I said, ‘why, you’ve hit him! He’s dead.’
“As for Harry, he said nothing, but merely looked scared, as well he
might, for such a marvellous, I may say such an appalling and ghastly
fluke it has never been my lot to witness. A man, let alone a boy,
might have fired a thousand such shots without ever touching the object;
which, mind you, was springing and bounding over rocks quite five
hundred yards away; and here this lad--taking a snap shot, and merely
allowing for speed and elevation by instinct, for he did not put up his
sights--had knocked the bull over as dead as a door-nail. Well, I made
no further remark, as the occasion was too solemn for talking, but
merely led the way to where the koodoo had fallen. There he lay,
beautiful and quite still; and there, high up, about half-way down his
neck, was a neat round hole. The bullet had severed the spinal marrow,
passing through the vertebræ and away on the other side.
“It was already evening when, having cut as much of the best meat as we
could carry from the bull, and tied a red handkerchief and some tufts of
grass to his spiral horns, which, by the way, must have been nearly
five feet in length, in the hope of keeping the jackals and aasvögels
(vultures) from him, we finally got back to camp, to find Pharaoh, who
was getting rather anxious at our absence, ready to greet us with the
pleasing intelligence that another ox was sick. But even this dreadful
bit of intelligence could not dash Harry’s spirits; the fact of the
matter being, incredible as it may appear, I do verily believe that in
his heart of hearts he set down the death of the koodoo to the credit
of his own skill. Now, though the lad was a pretty shot enough, this of
course was ridiculous, and I told him so plainly.
“By the time that we had finished our supper of koodoo steaks (which
would have been better if the koodoo had been a little younger), it was
time to get ready for Jim-Jim’s murderess. Accordingly we determined
again to expose the unfortunate sick ox, that was now absolutely on
its last legs, being indeed scarcely able to stand. All the afternoon
Pharaoh told us it had been walking round and round in a circle as
cattle in the last stage of redwater generally do. Now it had come to a
standstill, and was swaying to and fro with its head hanging down. So we
tied him up to the stump of the tree as on the previous night, knowing
that if the lioness did not kill him he would be dead by morning. Indeed
I was afraid that he would die at once, in which case he would be of but
little use as a bait, for the lion is a sportsmanlike animal, and unless
he is very hungry generally prefers to kill his own dinner, though when
that is once killed he will come back to it again and again.
“Then we again went through our experience of the previous night,
sitting there hour after hour, till at last Harry fell fast asleep, and,
though I am accustomed to this sort of thing, even I could scarcely keep
my eyes open. Indeed I was just dropping off, when suddenly Pharaoh gave
me a push.
“‘_Listen!_’ he whispered.
“I was awake in a second, and listening with all my ears. From the clump
of bush to the right of the lightning-shattered stump to which the sick
ox was tied came a faint crackling noise. Presently it was repeated.
Something was moving there, faintly and quietly enough, but still moving
perceptibly, for in the intense stillness of the night any sound seemed
loud.
“I woke up Harry, who instantly said, ‘Where is she? where is she?’ and
began to point his rifle about in a fashion that was more dangerous to
us and the oxen than to any possible lioness.
“‘Be quiet!’ I whispered, savagely; and as I did so, with a low and
hideous growl a flash of yellow light sped out of the clump of bush,
past the ox, and into the corresponding clump upon the other side. The
poor sick creature gave a sort of groan, staggered round and then began
to tremble. I could see it do so clearly in the moonlight, which was
now very bright, and I felt a brute for having exposed the unfortunate
animal to such agony as he must undoubtedly be undergoing. The lioness,
for it was she, passed so quickly that we could not even distinguish her
movements, much less fire. Indeed at night it is absolutely useless to
attempt to shoot unless the object is very close and standing perfectly
still, and then the light is so deceptive and it is so difficult to see
the foresight that the best shot will miss more often than he hits.
“‘She will be back again presently,’ I said; ‘look out, but for Heaven’s
sake don’t fire unless I tell you to.’
“Hardly were the words out of my mouth when back she came, and again
passed the ox without striking him.
“‘What on earth is she doing?’ whispered Harry.
“‘Playing with it as a cat does with a mouse, I suppose. She will kill
it presently.’
“As I spoke, the lioness once more flashed out of the bush, and this
time sprang right over the doomed and trembling ox. It was a beautiful
sight to see her clear him in the bright moonlight, as though it were a
trick which she had been taught.
“‘I believe that she has escaped from a circus,’ whispered Harry; ‘it’s
jolly to see her jump.’
“I said nothing, but I thought to myself that if it was, Master Harry
did not quite appreciate the performance, and small blame to him. At any
rate, his teeth were chattering a little.
“Then came a longish pause, and I began to think that the lioness must
have gone away, when suddenly she appeared again, and with one mighty
bound landed right on to the ox, and struck it a frightful blow with her
paw.
“Down it went, and lay on the ground kicking feebly. She put down her
wicked-looking head, and, with a fierce growl of contentment, buried her
long white teeth in the throat of the dying animal. When she lifted
her muzzle again it was all stained with blood. She stood facing us
obliquely, licking her bloody chops and making a sort of purring noise.
“‘Now’s our time,’ I whispered, ‘fire when I do.’
“I got on to her as well as I could, but Harry, instead of waiting for
me as I told him, fired before I did, and that of course hurried me.
But when the smoke cleared, I was delighted to see that the lioness was
rolling about on the ground behind the body of the ox, which covered her
in such a fashion, however, that we could not shoot again to make an end
of her.
“‘She’s done for! she’s dead, the yellow devil!’ yelled Pharaoh
in exultation; and at that very moment the lioness, with a sort of
convulsive rush, half-rolled, half-sprang, into the patch of thick bush
to the right. I fired after her as she went, but so far as I could see
without result; indeed the probability is that I missed her clean. At
any rate she got to the bush in safety, and once there, began to make
such a diabolical noise as I never heard before. She would whine and
shriek with pain, and then burst out into perfect volleys of roaring
that shook the whole place.
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘we must just let her roar; to go into that bush after
her at night would be madness.’
“At that moment, to my astonishment and alarm, there came an answering
roar from the direction of the river, and then another from behind
the swell of bush. Evidently there were more lions about. The wounded
lioness redoubled her efforts, with the object, I suppose, of summoning
the others to her assistance. At any rate they came, and quickly too,
for within five minutes, peeping through the bushes of our skerm fence,
we saw a magnificent lion bounding along towards us, through the tall
tambouki grass, that in the moonlight looked for all the world like
ripening corn. On he came in great leaps, and a glorious sight it was to
see him. When within fifty yards or so, he stood still in an open space
and roared. The lioness roared too; then there came a third roar, and
another great black-maned lion stalked majestically up, and joined
number two, till really I began to realize what the ox must have
undergone.
“‘Now, Harry,’ I whispered, ‘whatever you do don’t fire, it’s too risky.
If they let us be, let them be.’
“Well, the pair marched off to the bush, where the wounded lioness
was now roaring double tides, and the three of them began to snarl and
grumble away together there. Presently, however, the lioness ceased
roaring, and the two lions came out again, the black-maned one first--to
prospect, I suppose--walked to where the carcass of the ox lay, and
sniffed at it.
“‘Oh, what a shot!’ whispered Harry, who was trembling with excitement.
“‘Yes,’ I said; ‘but don’t fire; they might all of them come for us.’
“Harry said nothing, but whether it was from the natural impetuosity of
youth, or because he was thrown off his balance by excitement, or from
sheer recklessness and devilment, I am sure I cannot tell you, never
having been able to get a satisfactory explanation from him; but at
any rate the fact remains, he, without word or warning, entirely
disregarding my exhortations, lifted up his Westley Richards and fired
at the black-maned lion, and, what is more, hit it slightly on the
flank.
“Next second there was a most awful roar from the injured lion. He
glared around him and roared with pain, for he was badly stung; and
then, before I could make up my mind what to do, the great black-maned
brute, clearly ignorant of the cause of his hurt, sprang right at the
throat of his companion, to whom he evidently attributed his misfortune.
It was a curious sight to see the astonishment of the other lion at this
most unprovoked assault. Over he rolled with an angry snarl, and on to
him sprang the black-maned demon, and began to worry him. This finally
awoke the yellow-maned lion to a sense of the situation, and I am bound
to say that he rose to it in a most effective manner. Somehow or other
he got to his feet, and, roaring and snarling frightfully, closed with
his mighty foe.
“Then ensued a most tremendous scene. You know what a shocking thing
it is to see two large dogs fighting with abandonment. Well, a whole
hundred of dogs could not have looked half so terrible as those two
great brutes as they rolled and roared and rent in their horrid rage.
They gripped each other, they tore at each other’s throat, till their
manes came out in handfuls, and the red blood streamed down their yellow
hides. It was an awful and a wonderful thing to see the great cats
tearing at each other with all the fierce energy of their savage
strength, and making the night hideous with their heart-shaking noise.
And the fight was a grand one too. For some minutes it was impossible
to say which was getting the best of it, but at last I saw that the
black-maned lion, though he was slightly bigger, was failing. I am
inclined to think that the wound in his flank crippled him. Anyway,
he began to get the worst of it, which served him right, as he was the
aggressor. Still I could not help feeling sorry for him, for he had
fought a gallant fight, when his antagonist finally got him by the
throat, and, struggle and strike out as he would, began to shake the
life out of him. Over and over they rolled together, a hideous and
awe-inspiring spectacle, but the yellow one would not loose his hold,
and at length poor black-mane grew faint, his breath came in great
snorts and seemed to rattle in his nostrils, then he opened his huge
mouth, gave the ghost of a roar, quivered, and was dead.
“When he was quite sure that the victory was his own, the yellow-maned
lion loosed his grip and sniffed at the fallen foe. Then he licked the
dead lion’s eye, and next, with his fore-feet resting on the carcass,
sent up his own chant of victory, that went rolling and pealing down
the dark paths of the night. And at this point I interfered. Taking a
careful sight at the centre of his body, in order to give the largest
possible margin for error, I fired, and sent a.570 express bullet right
through him, and down he dropped dead upon the carcass of his mighty
foe.
“After that, fairly satisfied with our performances, we slept peaceably
till dawn, leaving Pharaoh to keep watch in case any more lions should
take it into their heads to come our way.
“When the sun was well up we arose, and went very cautiously--at least
Pharaoh and I did, for I would not allow Harry to come--to see if we
could find any trace of the wounded lioness. She had ceased roaring
immediately upon the arrival of the two lions, and had not made a sound
since, from which we concluded that she was probably dead. I was armed
with my express, while Pharaoh, in whose hands a rifle was indeed a
dangerous weapon, to his companions, had an axe. On our way we stopped
to look at the two dead lions. They were magnificent animals, both of
them, but their pelts were entirely spoiled by the terrible mauling they
had given to each other, which was a sad pity.
“In another minute we were following the blood spoor of the wounded
lioness into the bush, where she had taken refuge. This, I need hardly
say, we did with the utmost caution; indeed, I for one did not at
all like the job, and was only consoled by the reflection that it
was necessary, and that the bush was not thick. Well, we stood there,
keeping as far from the trees as possible, searching and looking about,
but no lioness could we see, though we saw plenty of blood.
“‘She must have gone somewhere to die, Pharaoh,’ I said in Zulu.
“‘Yes, Inkoos,’ he answered, ‘she has certainly gone away.’
“Hardly were the words out of his mouth, when I heard a roar, and
starting round saw the lioness emerge from the very centre of a bush, in
which she had been curled up, just behind Pharaoh. Up she went on to
her hind-legs, and as she did so I noticed that one of her fore-paws was
broken near the shoulder, for it hung limply down. Up she went, towering
right over Pharaoh’s head, as she did so lifting her uninjured paw to
strike him to the earth. And then, before I could get my rifle round or
do anything to avert the oncoming catastrophe, the Zulu did a very brave
and clever thing. Realizing his own imminent danger, he bounded to one
side, and swinging the heavy axe round his head, brought it down right
on to the back of the lioness, severing the vertebræ and killing her
instantaneously. It was wonderful to see her collapse all in a heap like
an empty sack.
“‘My word, Pharaoh!’ I said, ‘that was well done, and none too soon.’
“‘Yes,’ he answered, with a little laugh, ‘it was a good stroke, Inkoos.
Jim-Jim will sleep better now.’
“Then, calling Harry to us, we examined the lioness. She was old, if one
might judge from her worn teeth, and not very large, but thickly made,
and must have possessed extraordinary vitality to have lived so long,
shot as she was; for, in addition to her broken shoulder, my express
bullet had blown a great hole in her middle that one might have put a
fist into.
“Well, that is the story of the death of poor Jim-Jim and how we avenged
it. It is rather interesting in its way, because of the fight between
the two lions, of which I never saw the like in all my experience, and I
know something of lions and their manners.”
“And how did you get back to Pilgrim’s Rest?” I asked Hunter Quatermain
when he had finished his yarn.
“Ah, we had a nice job with that,” he answered. “The second sick ox
died, and so did another, and we had to get on as best we could with
three harnessed unicorn fashion, while we pushed behind. We did about
four miles a day, and it took us nearly a month, during the last week of
which we pretty well starved.”
“I notice,” I said, “that most of your trips ended in disaster of some
sort or another, and yet you went on making them, which strikes one as a
little strange.”
“Yes, I dare say: but then, remember I got my living for many years out
of hunting. Besides, half the charm of the thing lay in the dangers and
disasters, though they were terrible enough at the time. Another thing
is, my trips were not all disastrous. Some time, if you like, I will
tell you a story of one which was very much the reverse, for I made
several thousand pounds out of it, and saw one of the most extraordinary
sights a hunter ever came across. It was on this trip that I met the
bravest native woman I ever knew; her name was Maiwa. But it is too late
now, and besides, I am tired of talking about myself. Pass the water,
will you!”
End of Project Gutenberg’s A Tale of Three Lions, by H. Rider Haggard