LION STORIES
Steve saw that the conversation was drifting out of the desired
channel, so he turned to Oom Simon again, and said,--
‘But did you ever have a narrow escape from a lion, Oom Simon?’
‘Well, I had a narrow escape once of being thoroughly frightened. We
had been out for a lion hunt during the day. We found one, or rather
he found us, for the first we saw of him was when he was mounted on
the back of one of our horses. He had bounded out of a clump of marsh
reeds, and sprung right on top of the horse, fastening his teeth in the
neck of my poor hunting horse. We shot him. I gave him a bullet behind
the shoulder, from the left, and my brother one through the loins from
the right. We skinned him, and took the skin to camp.
‘That night I was standing near the enclosure, when one of the boys
suddenly threw the lion’s skin close to the dogs standing near to me.
The dogs must have thought it was a live lion. They howled and growled
as they usually do when a lion is near. And one of them, as big as the
lion himself, was so frightened that he ran against me in the dark. It
was so dark I could not see, and I thought it must be the lion himself.
I can tell you it took my breath away, I got such a _schrik_ (sudden
fright), and it was some moments before I was sure there was no lion
between my legs, but only a dog.’
‘I got a bigger _schrik_ than that one day,’ said Oom Klaas, another
old man, who had been quiet up till now. ‘I had shot a red buck one
day. I hung him up a tree, in the bush, and went for the waggon to take
the game to the camp. I came back with the waggon following at some
distance, having left my gun at the waggon, as I had only a short time
before left the spot, and did not expect any lions to be there so
soon. Judge of my surprise, when I came within sight of my game, to see
two lions pulling at it. They saw me, and one ran to the right. I crept
round the bushes in an opposite direction. I was continually looking
round in the direction towards which I had seen one of the lions go,
expecting the other one would follow in the same direction, so I did
not look in front of me, but always behind, in order to see him if he
should charge me from behind. Suddenly something ran up right against
me, throwing me right on my back. In a flash I saw it was the other
lion, with the red buck in his mouth; he had gone round by the other
way, and thus came upon me in this unexpected way; fortunately he had
the buck in his mouth. So that he saw me as little as I saw him, thus
the result--that we collided in this unexpected way. I can tell you I
did get a _schrik_. I could just shout, _Haai you schelm_, as I lay
upon my back. But fortunately for me his mouth was occupied in holding
the red buck, and so he could not bite, and when the shock came, he
was as much surprised and frightened as I was. He dropped the buck and
fled.’
There was amongst the company an old man, named Oom Frans (I omit all
family names as these reminiscences are all true; and giving fictitious
names will serve no purpose). This old man had gone through many
vicissitudes. One day he was felling a tree. It was very heavy. The
tree fell and caught four of his fingers in such a way that withdrawing
them was impossible. He had only one companion with him. Nobody else
was within two days’ journey. His companion could not move the tree
stump a hair’s breadth. What to do now? He got out his knife and asked
his friend to cut the fingers off. But the man had not the nerve to
do so, and refused his friend’s entreaties to amputate the fingers.
Oom Frans got wild; he lost his temper at such womanishness. He took
the knife and cut his own fingers off himself. It was his right hand.
The writer has often shaken that stump of a hand, and wondered at the
nerve displayed by the old man in cutting off four of his own fingers
with an ordinary pocket knife.
This old man now quietly said,--
‘I once had a narrow escape from a lion. It is many years ago now--’
Here Oom Hendrik interrupted him by saying,--
‘No, Neef Frans, these young fellows are keeping us out of our sleep,
and we old folks get up early. Stephaans and his friends are going
to stay over to-morrow, I suppose, as Stephaans himself has had too
good success with the koraan to leave them without another try, and I
expect Mijnheer Keith would like to be revenged on those guinea-fowl.
So you had better postpone your story, or we shall have no adventures
to tell them to-morrow night. Good-night, all friends,’ and off walked
the old chap, followed by the rest of the party, who had all been
feeling rather sleepy during the last half-hour; for I can recommend to
whoever may read this no better remedy for insomnia than a tramp after
guinea-fowl, or after a lost chum in the bush.