_By_ DAVID LIVINGSTONE
NOTE.--Few men have endured more hardships, dangers and excitement
that did David Livingstone, missionary and African traveler, from
whose writings this account of an adventure with a lion is taken.
He penetrated to parts of Africa where no white man had ever been
before, he suffered repeated attacks of African fever, he exposed
himself to constant danger from wild beasts and wilder men; and he
did none of this in his own interests. He was no merchant seeking
for gold and diamonds, he was no discoverer seeking for fame; his
only aim was to open up the continent of Africa so that
civilization and Christianity might enter.
In 1840 Livingstone was sent as medical missionary to South Africa.
Here he joined Robert Moffat, in Bechuanaland, where he worked for
nine years. Learning from the natives that there was a large lake
to the northward, he set out on his first exploring trip, and at
length discovered Lake Ngami. Later, he undertook other journeys of
exploration, on one of which he reached the Atlantic coast and then
returned, crossing the entire continent. His greatest achievement
was the exploration of the lake region of South Africa. So cut off
was he, in the African jungles, from all the outer world that no
communication was received from him for three years, and fears as
to his safety were relieved only when Stanley, sent out by the _New
York Herald_ to search for Livingstone, reported that he had seen
and assisted him.
In May, 1873, Livingstone died, at a village near Lake Bangweolo.
His body was taken to England and laid in Westminster Abbey, but
his heart was buried at the foot of the tree under whose branches
he died.
Returning toward Kuruman, I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa
(latitude 25° 14´ south, longitude 26° 30´) as the site of a missionary
station, and thither I removed in 1843. Here an occurrence took place
concerning which I have frequently been questioned in England, and
which, but for the importunities of friends, I meant to have kept in
store to tell my children when in my dotage. The Bakatla of the village
Mabotsa were much troubled by lions, which leaped into the cattle pens
by night and destroyed their cows. They even attacked the herds in open
day. This was so unusual an occurrence that the people believed that
they were bewitched,--"given," as they said, "into the power of the
lions by a neighboring tribe." They went once to attack the animals,
but, being rather a cowardly people compared to Bechuanas in general on
such occasions, they returned without killing any.
It is well known that if one of a troop of lions is killed, the others
take the hint and leave that part of the country. So, the next time the
herds were attacked, I went with the people, in order to encourage them
to rid themselves of the annoyance by destroying one of the marauders.
We found the lions on a small hill about a quarter of a mile in length,
and covered with trees. A circle of men was formed round it, and they
gradually closed up, ascending pretty near to each other. Being down
below on the plain with a native schoolmaster, named Mebálwe, a most
excellent man, I saw one of the lions sitting on a piece of rock within
the now closed circle of men. Mebálwe fired at him before I could, and
the ball struck the rock on which the animal was sitting. He bit at the
spot struck, as a dog does at a stick or stone thrown at him; then
leaping away, broke through the opening circle and escaped unhurt. The
men were afraid to attack him, perhaps on account of their belief in
witchcraft. When the circle was reformed, we saw two other lions in it;
but we were afraid to fire lest we should strike the men, and they
allowed the beasts to burst through also.
If the Bakatla had acted according to the custom of the country, they
would have speared the lions in their attempt to get out. Seeing we
could not get them to kill one of the lions, we bent our footsteps
toward the village; in going round the end of the hill, however, I saw
one of the beasts sitting on a piece of rock as before, but this time he
had a little bush in front. Being about thirty yards off, 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 nor feeling of terror, though I was quite conscious of all
that was happening. 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 benevolent 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 Mebálwe, who was trying to shoot him at
a distance of ten or fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one, missed fire in
both barrels; the lion immediately left me, and, attacking Mebálwe, 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
Mebálwe. He left Mebálwe and caught this man by the shoulder, but at
that moment the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down
dead. The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been his
paroxysms 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
was declared to be that of the largest lion they had ever seen. Besides
crunching the bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds on the
upper part of my arm.
A wound from this animal's tooth resembles a gunshot wound; it is
generally followed by a great deal of sloughing and discharge, and
pains are felt in the part, periodically ever afterward. I had on a
tartan jacket on the occasion, and I believe that it wiped off all the
virus from the teeth that pierced the flesh, for my two companions in
this affray have both suffered from the peculiar pains, while I have
escaped with only the inconvenience of a false joint in my limb. The man
whose shoulder was wounded, showed me his wound actually burst forth
afresh on the same month of the following year. This curious point
certainly deserves the attention of inquirers.
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