The Lion has been called the “King of Beasts” from most ancient times,
and this is a very appropriate title, if we consider the impression we
usually have of this animal when viewed for the first time. He carries
his head high and walks with a slowness which may well pass for majesty.
He always appears calm and dignified and conscious of his strength. The
bushy and magnificent mane which overshadows his head and neck gives an
added grandeur to his appearance.
Some adult Lions have attained a length of nearly ten feet, from the tip
of the nose to the root of the tail; but usually they do not exceed six
or seven feet. With the exception of the mane and a tuft of hair at the
tip of the tail, the coat of the Lion is entirely smooth, and of a tawny
color. The mane, which gives this great “King of the Beasts” such a
lordly appearance, is missing in his mate, who has a smooth neck and a
smaller head, and is generally in proportion about one-fourth as large.
The mother Lion is at her fiercest when her little ones are threatened
with danger; at other times she shows very little of the Lion nature
except when pressed by hunger.
The Lion has also been called the “Lord of the Forest,” but this is not
an appropriate title, as he does not prefer the forest for a home. He
lives in desert arid plains, lightly covered with shrubby vegetation or
tracts of low brushwood. In India he prowls along the borders of rivers,
and makes his lair in the jungles.
The Lion slumbers during the day in his retreat, and as night comes on
he prowls abroad in search of prey. This is not because his eyes are
unfitted to see in the daytime—like those of the majority of “night
prowlers”—but he seems to think it prudent to keep at home until
evening. When the first shadows of twilight appear, he enters upon his
campaign. If there is a pool in the vicinity of his haunt, he places
himself in ambush on the edge of it, with the hope of securing a victim
among the Antelopes, Gazelles, Giraffes, Zebras, Buffaloes, &c., which
are led thither to slake their thirst. These animals, well aware of this
habit of their enemy, will not approach a pond without extreme caution.
If one, however, places itself within reach of their terrible foe, its
fate is generally sealed. One enormous bound enables the Lion to spring
on its back, and one blow with his paw breaks its back. If the Lion
misses his aim, he does not endeavor to continue a useless pursuit, well
knowing that he cannot compete in speed with the children of the plains.
He therefore skulks back into his hiding-place, to lie in ambush until
some more fortunate chance presents itself, or complete night-fall shuts
out all hope of success.
The Lion, however, is not disposed to remain long with an empty stomach.
Then it is that he approaches Man’s habitations, with the hope of
surprising the domestic animals. Fences ten feet in height form no
obstacle to him, for he will bound over such with ease, when, falling
into the midst of the herd, he seizes the nearest.
The amount of strength which he manifests under circumstances similar to
these is really extraordinary. A Lion has been known, at the Cape of
Good Hope, to carry off a small Cow as a Cat would a Mouse, and, with
the burden, leap a wide ditch. It is almost impossible to conceive the
muscular force necessary to jump a fence several feet high when carrying
a load of several hundred-weight.
The audacity of the Lion increases in proportion to his requirement.
When he has exhausted all means of procuring subsistence, and when he
can no longer put off the cravings of hunger, he sets no limit to his
aggressions, and will brave every danger rather than perish by famine.
In open day he will then proceed to where the herds of Oxen and Sheep
pasture, entirely disregarding Shepherds and Dogs. At such times he has
been known to carry his rashness so far as to attack a drove of
Buffaloes—an action which is all the bolder as a single one, unless it
is taken by surprise, is well able to defend itself.
The Lion seems to delight in the tempests of wind and rain, so common in
Southern Africa; his voice mingles with the thunder, and adds to the
terror of the timid animals, on whom he then boldly advances. He
usually, however, waits in ambush, or creeps insidiously towards his
victim, which with a bound and a rush he dashes to the earth.
“In South Africa,” says Capt. Burton, “the Lion is seldom seen, unless
surprised asleep in his lair of thicket; during my journey I saw but
one, although at times his roaring was heard at night. Except in
darkness or during violent storms, which excite the fiercer Carnivora,
he is a timid animal, much less feared by the people than the angry and
agile Leopard. When encountered in the daytime, he stands a second or
two gazing; then turns slowly round and walks as slowly away for a dozen
paces, looking over his shoulder; he then begins to trot, and when he
thinks himself out of sight bounds like a Greyhound.”
If attacked, however, he will show fight as the following experience,
not likely to be often repeated, will testify: “Being about thirty yards
off the foe,” says Dr. Livingstone, “I took a good aim at his body,
through the bush, and fired both barrels into it. The men then called
out: ‘He is shot! he is shot!’ Others cried: ‘He has been shot by
another man, too; let us go to him!’ I did not see any one else shoot at
him; but I saw the Lion’s tail erected in anger behind the bush and,
turning to the people, said: ‘Stop a little till I load again.’ When in
the act of ramming down the bullets, I heard a shout. Starting and
looking half round, I saw the Lion just in the act of springing upon me.
I was upon a little height. He caught my shoulder as he sprang, and we
both came to the ground below together. Growling horribly close to my
ear, he shook me as a Terrier Dog does a Rat. The shock produced a
stupor similar to that which seems to be felt by a Mouse after the first
shake of the Cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess, in which there was no
sense of pain or feeling of terror. It was like what patients partially
under the influence of chloroform describe, who see all the operation,
but feel not the knife. This singular condition was not the result of
any mental process. The shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of
horror in looking round at the beast. This peculiar state is probably
produced in all animals killed by the Carnivora, and, if so, is a
merciful provision by our Creator for lessening the pain of death.
Turning round to relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the
back of my head, I saw his eyes directed to Mebalwe, who was trying to
shoot him at the distance of fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one, missed
fire in both barrels. The Lion immediately left me, and attacking
Mebalwe, bit his thigh. Another man, whose life I had saved before,
after he had been tossed by a Buffalo, attempted to spear the Lion while
he was biting Mebalwe. He left Mebalwe and caught this man by the
shoulder; but at that moment the bullets he had received had taken
effect, and he fell down dead. The whole was the work of a few moments,
and must have been his paroxysm of dying rage. In order to take out the
charm from him, the Bakatla, on the following day, made a huge bonfire
over the carcass, which they declared to be that of the largest Lion
they had ever seen. Besides crunching the bone into splinters, he left
eleven teeth-wounds in the upper part of my arm.”
Dr. Livingstone says: “The same feeling which has induced the modern
painter to caricature the Lion, has led the sentimentalist to consider
the Lion’s roar the most terrific of all earthly sounds. We hear of the
majestic roar of the king of beasts. It is, indeed, well calculated to
inspire fear, if you hear it in combination with the tremendously loud
thunder of that country, on a night so pitchy dark that every flash of
the intensely vivid lightning leaves you with the impression of
stone-blindness, while the rain pours down so fast that your fire goes
out, leaving you without the protection of even a tree, or the chance of
your gun going off. But when you are in a comfortable house or wagon,
the case is very different, and you hear the roar of the Lion without
any awe or alarm.
“The silly Ostrich makes a noise as loud, yet it never was feared by
man. To talk of the majestic roar of the Lion is mere majestic twaddle.
On my mentioning this fact some years ago, the assertion was doubted; so
I have been careful ever since to inquire the opinions of Europeans who
had heard both, if they could detect any difference between the roar of
a Lion and that of an Ostrich. The invariable answer was that they could
not, when the animal was at a distance. The natives assert that they can
detect a variation between the commencement of the noise of each. There
is, it must be admitted, a considerable difference between the singing
noise of a Lion when full, and his deep gruff voice when hungry. In
general, the Lion’s voice seems to come deeper from the chest than that
of the Ostrich; but to this day I can distinguish between them with
certainty only by knowing that the Ostrich roars by day and the Lion by
night.”
“Attempts to deprive the Lion of his prey are of frequent occurrence in
the interior of Africa. Indeed, it is no unusual thing to find a number
of natives residing near such pools of water as are frequented by
Antelopes, other wild animals, and their constant attendant, the Lion,
subsisting almost altogether in this way, or on carcasses which the Lion
has not had time to devour before the return of day, when it is his
habit to return to his lair.”
Mr. Anderson mentions, as a remarkable circumstance connected with a
Rhinoceros hunt, that “While following the trail of the animal, we came
to a spot where one or two Lions, probably taking advantage of his
crippled condition, had evidently attacked him, and, after a desperate
scuffle, had been compelled to retreat. This is the only instance I know
of Lions daring to attack a Rhinoceros, though I have seen it stated in
print that they will not only assail, but can master the horned
monster.”
In former times Lions were numerous even in Europe. According to
Herodotus, Aristotle, and Pausanias, they were abundant in Macedonia,
Thrace, and Thessaly; but for centuries in these countries they have
been unknown. Arabia, Syria, and Babylonia used also to contain large
numbers. In Arabia and on the confines of Persia and India at the
present date they are scarce.
We may form some idea of their number in ancient times by the quantity
absorbed annually in the combats which were so much in favor with the
Romans. In a very brief interval, Sylla had slaughtered a hundred Lions,
Pompey six hundred, and Caesar four hundred.
In this age the Lion is rarely met with except in Africa, where every
day its numbers are diminishing, and from whence it will soon completely
disappear if the present rate of slaughter is continued. Our
grand-children probably will know the Lion only from our descriptions.
Several varieties of the Lion are distinguished. The most ferocious is
the Brown Lion of the Cape. In the same neighborhood lives another, much
less dangerous, the Yellow Cape Lion. After these we may enumerate the
Lion of Senegal, the Barbary Lion, and the Lion of Persia and Arabia.