THE LION IN SOUTH AFRICA
BY F. C. SELOUS
In those districts of Southern Africa made historic by the stirring
narratives of Sir Cornwallis Harris and Gordon Cumming, where but half
a century ago every species of wild game native to that part of the
world, from the ponderous elephant to the graceful springbuck, was to
be met with in such surprising numbers that vast tracts of country
assumed the appearance of huge zoological gardens, one may now travel
for days without seeing a single wild animal. In British Bechuanaland
the elephant and the rhinoceros are as extinct as the mammoth in
England, and the myriads of zebras and antelopes which Sir Cornwallis
Harris saw daily scouring the plains in commingled herds are now only
represented by a few scattered hartebeests, blesbucks, and gemsbucks,
which still exist in the country bordering on the Kalahari desert. The
high veldt of the Transvaal too, once black with innumerable herds of
wildebeests, blesbucks, and springbucks, is at the present day for
the sportsman or the naturalist a dreary waste, more devoid of animal
life probably than any other sparsely populated country in the world.
With the antelopes and buffaloes the beasts of prey have disappeared
too, and in many districts where fifty years ago the magnificent music
of the lion’s roar was the traveller’s constant lullaby, no sound now
disturbs the silence of the night, except indeed the ceaseless rattle
of the quartz-crushing machinery in the mining districts.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF SOUTH AFRICAN ANTELOPES]
Yet, in spite of the total disappearance of the game in certain
districts, it would be a great mistake to say that there is no more
big game in Southern Africa; for if we take, as I think one fairly
may, South Africa to mean all the country south of the great Zambesi
river, then with the single exception of the true quagga (_Equus
quagga_), which is undoubtedly extinct, every wild animal encountered
by travellers in the early part of this century may still be met with;
for the great square-mouthed rhinoceros (_R. Simus_) yet lingers in
northern Mashonaland; elephants and black rhinoceros (_R. bicornis_)
are still numerous in certain districts; whilst as for buffaloes,
zebras, and various species of antelopes, it is difficult to believe
that these animals ever existed in greater numbers in Bechuanaland
than may still be seen in South-Eastern Africa, in the neighbourhood
of the Pungwe river. Here, too, lions are still numerous; so much so
that during a period of six weeks spent by the writer in this district
last year, 1892, not one single night passed that they were not heard
roaring, whilst upon several occasions three or four different troops
of them roared round the camp at the same time.
As it is impossible within the limits of a single chapter to give a
detailed account of all the rich and varied fauna of South Africa, I
will now proceed to say a few words concerning the animal to which
I have twice referred, and whose skin is the trophy most coveted by
sportsmen. I am often asked, ‘Is the lion a dangerous beast, or is he
a cur?’ This is a difficult question to answer, for not only do lions
differ much individually in character--one when encountered showing
himself to be an animal of a very cowardly nature, whilst another
may prove to be very bold and savage--but it would even seem that
the disposition of lions, in general, varies in the different large
areas of country over which they range. Nothing has struck me more
than the different behaviour exhibited by lions encountered in Eastern
Africa during several years of travel by a friend of my own and those
which I have myself met with in South Africa. My friend is a careful
naturalist, an experienced hunter, and a man of absolute reliability,
and what he has told me concerning the lions he has met with in Eastern
Africa is so different from my own experience that I can only conclude
that, speaking generally, those animals differ, as I say, in character
in different portions of the continent; and if that is the case, my
remarks will only apply to lions in Southern Africa.
I ought first to say, however, that though my experience of lions is
considerable, it is not as great as many people might suppose. I have
never missed an opportunity of shooting them when it presented itself,
but I have never systematically hunted these animals. Thus, although
I have spent twenty years in the wilds of Africa, I have only shot
twenty-five lions when entirely by myself, though besides these I have
assisted at the shooting of eleven others, and helped to skin eight
more in which there were no bullets of mine. The greatest number of
lions I have shot in one season is only seven. Altogether this is a
very poor record compared to the prodigious bags of lions made of late
years in Somaliland by Colonel Arthur Paget, Lord Delamere, Colonel
Curtis, Lord Wolverton and other English sportsmen; though I think that
there are portions of South-Eastern Africa where equally large bags
might be made, if one devoted oneself systematically to lion hunting.
Such as my experience has been, however, I will give it.
When lions are encountered in the daytime, they will almost invariably
give way before the presence of man, even when several are together
feeding upon the carcase of an animal they have just killed, and at a
time when they are presumably hungry. In parts of the country where
firearms have been much used, lions will sometimes retreat so rapidly
when they are disturbed that it is next to an impossibility to get a
shot at one. I remember one cold cloudy winter’s morning in Mashonaland
coming suddenly upon a male lion, as he was chasing a small herd of
koodoo cows. When he observed me, he at once stopped and gazed fixedly
at me for just one instant of time, and then, wheeling round, went off
through the forest at such a pace that, had I not been well mounted, I
should never have seen him again. As it was I galloped after him, and
when he found that my horse was gaining on him, he stopped and stood at
bay, when I shot him. In parts of the country where they have been but
little disturbed, lions will only walk slowly away when unexpectedly
encountered in the daytime, often turning round and gazing fixedly at
the intruder, and sometimes growling savagely and twitching their tails
angrily the while. A lioness with cubs, or a savage lion feeding at a
carcase, will occasionally come rushing forwards when disturbed, with
every demonstration of anger, and an apparent determination to charge
home. But in the great majority of even these exceptional cases such
a demeanour would be nothing more than a demonstration, only made in
order to frighten the intruder away; and if the man were to stand his
ground, the lion would retreat. I remember an instance of this. Two
friends of mine having shot some elephants on a Saturday, resolved to
take a rest on the following day. Early on the Sunday morning some of
their Kafirs having gone up to cut some meat from the carcase of one
of the elephants, returned with the news that there was a lion there
that would not let them come near it. Wood and Clarkson thereupon
at once took their heavy old muzzle-loading elephant guns, the only
weapons they possessed, and went to investigate. As they approached
the carcase, Clarkson told me they could see nothing of the intruder
and thought he had decamped, but when they were still some hundred and
fifty yards distant, a magnificent dark-maned lion suddenly appeared
from behind the dead elephant, and came rushing towards them, holding
his head low between his shoulders, twitching his tail from side to
side and growling savagely, and looking as if he meant to charge home.
He only came on for about fifty yards however, and then stood growling,
and, as my friends said, looked grand in his fury.
Clarkson had dropped on his knee to get a steadier shot with his heavy
elephant gun, but Wood, who was an old and very experienced hunter,
said, ‘Don’t fire, Matt; let him come nearer.’ Clarkson thereupon
took his gun from his shoulder and waited. Suddenly he told me the
lion, after having stood for some seconds looking the picture of rage
and determination not to give way, stopped growling, and turning
quickly round, made a bolt through the forest, past the carcase of the
elephant, just as hard as he could go. No one fired at him, as heavy
elephant guns were not suitable weapons for shooting quickly at a
comparatively small animal moving rapidly amongst the stems of trees,
and so this lion got off scot free. He had only tried to frighten my
friends away from the carcase at which he was feeding, but whether if a
single unarmed man had come near him he might not have bitten him it is
hard to say. During the second year of the occupation of Mashonaland, a
prospector named Jones, having lost a donkey, walked out from Salisbury
along the main road to look for it. Before he had proceeded far, and
when he was still in sight of the huts and houses of the township, he
came upon a dead donkey lying near the roadside, and thinking it might
be the animal he was in search of, went to examine it, when a lioness
by whom the ass had been killed, and who was lying near the carcase,
sprang upon him, and seizing him by the shoulder, with her teeth
dragged him to the ground, and stood over him growling. Fortunately for
Mr. Jones, a young colonist named Swanapool, a lad only fourteen years
of age, was at that moment coming along the road with a rifle in his
hands, and he at once fired at and killed the lioness before she had
inflicted any further injuries on her victim. Mr. Jones, however, had
been badly bitten in the shoulder, and was an inmate of the hospital at
Salisbury for some considerable time in consequence. The two anecdotes
I have just related will serve to show that in Southern Africa lions do
not invariably at once beat a retreat when brought face to face with
man in the daytime. These cases are, however, exceptional, and it may
fairly be said that, speaking generally, these great cats have a most
wholesome dread of the human biped, and avoid him as much as possible
by daylight, but when once the sun has set and the darkness of night
has come on, lions become bold and fearless, and often, when urged on
by hunger, incredibly reckless and daring. It is by no means unusual
for oxen to be seized at the yokes or horses to be killed inside a
stable, or when tied to the wheel of a waggon; whilst in Mashonaland
alone four men were carried off and eaten by lions during the first two
years of the occupation of that country. One of these unfortunates was
a young man who was about to start a market-garden in the neighbourhood
of Umtali settlement. He had gone away with a cart and four oxen to buy
some native meal at one of the Kafir kraals, and had outspanned for the
night at a spot about six miles distant from the little township. The
oxen were tied up to the yokes, and Mr. Teale was lying asleep under
the cart, alongside of a native, when a lion walked up, and, seizing
him by the shoulder, carried him off and killed and ate him. This
lion, be it noted, showed a refined taste in disregarding the oxen and
the Kafir, and seizing the European. It is supposed that a lion and
a lioness took part in the feast. The lioness was subsequently shot,
and the head and one of the feet of the unfortunate market-gardener
recovered, but the lion escaped.
As an example of much greater boldness, let me relate the following
anecdote. In August 1892, Captain Graham, the resident magistrate of
Umtali, visited Marauka’s kraal with a patrol of twelve mounted white
men and a small native contingent. A large camp was formed at the
foot of the hill on which Marauka’s village was situated, the horses
were tied on a picket-line, and several large fires were lighted in
different parts of the camp. In the middle of the night a lioness
walked right past the outside fires, passed close by two white men
who were covered by their blankets, and seized a native who was lying
alongside of a fire in the centre of the camp. She caught him by the
shoulder, dragged him past the outside fires, and then dropping him,
gave him some terrible bites about the head and arm. The man had, of
course, shouted out when he was seized, and he retained his presence of
mind in a marvellous manner, for when some of the white men approached
with a lantern, he called out, ‘Don’t shoot now, the lion is lying on
me’; this was translated by the interpreter, and presently the plucky
fellow again spoke and said, ‘Now fire, she’s standing up over me.’
Three shots were then fired into the lioness, which was very badly
wounded, and ultimately killed the next morning. The wounded native
was then pulled back into the camp, but, though conscious, he was
so terribly mutilated that he died early the next day. The lioness
was now _hors de combat_, but two young lions that were with her
soon afterwards invaded the camp and attacked the horses tied on the
picket-line. Five of these broke away all tied together, and all five
were more or less scratched and bitten, two of them very severely. None
were killed, however, and ultimately all of them recovered. Later on
one of the young lions came back to the camp, and carried off a saddle,
which it tore all to pieces. When day broke, the wounded lioness was
shot, but the young lions had made off, and were not seen. I have given
this anecdote because I was in Umtali shortly after the return of the
patrol and spoke with all the men who had taken part in it, and saw the
horses with their wounds still unhealed, and the remnants of the saddle
that had been torn all to pieces. However, although in the interior
of South Africa a certain number of natives are killed annually by
hungry lions, I do not think that these animals are so destructive to
human life as are tigers in India. Although cases do occur, I think it
very exceptional for a lion to kill human beings for food except when
driven to it by hunger. In the neighbourhood of the Pungwe river, where
game of all kinds abounds, and where lions are also very numerous,
the natives assured me that the lions never troubled them; but in
Northern Mashonaland, where game is comparatively scarce, the lions in
1886 became so dangerous, and carried off so many women whilst they
were working in their cornfields, that the few scattered families of
Mashunas living in the district to the north of Lo Magondi’s deserted
the country. Old lions, whose bodily powers are on the wane, are
probably the most dangerous. When they can no longer catch and pull
down wild animals, they approach the native villages and prey on the
goats and dogs, and if they are not destroyed soon take to killing
women and children. In countries where both game and lions abound, I
presume that the old and weakly lions can always get a living, like the
hyænas, on the remains of the carcases of animals killed by younger and
more vigorous animals. As man is not the lion’s usual food, most lions
would probably give way before a human being even on a dark night and
allow him to pass unmolested, provided they were not hungry; but were
a man to come within the ken of a hungry lion under such circumstances
I should look upon him as a dead man whether he were armed or not,
for the lion would probably spring upon him suddenly from behind and
give him no time to make use of his weapon. Therefore I look upon it
as foolhardy in the extreme to walk along a road or a native footpath,
on a dark night, in countries which are infested by lions, if you can
avoid doing so. You may walk twenty times at night before meeting
a lion at all; and you may meet twenty lions before encountering a
really hungry animal; but when you do at last meet him, he will, most
assuredly, be the last lion that you will have any knowledge of in this
world.
There is an old fable, still believed in more or less, that the lion
is a very clean feeder, and that he will eat nothing but the flesh of
an animal that he has killed himself. That has not been my experience.
On the contrary, I have found that, even where game abounds, lions
will seldom pass the carcase of an animal killed by a hunter, but will
almost invariably feed on it, even though the flesh be quite putrid.
Sometimes when several elephants have been shot, lions will feast on
the stinking carcases as long as there is any soft meat left, and I
have known this to happen in a country where game of various kinds
was plentiful, especially zebras, which are always a favourite food
of lions. However, although the lion is not a clean feeder in the
sense that he will only eat fresh meat, he is wonderfully dexterous in
disembowelling a carcase, without messing the meat. When Kafirs kill
an animal and cut it up, they almost invariably tear open the paunch
and intestines and spill the contents over the meat, making everything
in such a filthy mess that some people would lose all appetite at the
very sight of it; but lions invariably remove the interior economy of
their victims with a surprising neatness, and without defiling the
meat in any way. When they have killed an animal, they will sometimes
commence feeding on the soft meat of the inside of the buttocks,
tearing the carcase open at the anus; but in nine cases out of ten they
work through the thin skin of the flank, at the inside of the hind leg,
and then remove the paunch and entrails. After this they eat the heart,
liver, lungs, and kidneys; next, as a rule, they attack the buttocks
and tear off the soft meat in mouthfuls, swallowing it in great lumps,
often with the skin attached. If the animal they have killed is fat,
they will eat the whole brisket, bones and all, and also chew off
all the ends of the ribs, but they never swallow any of the larger
and harder bones. The paunch and entrails are almost invariably left
untouched, and are often covered over with earth and grass. But there
are exceptions to every rule, and I think it is indisputable that in
some cases lions will eat both the entrails and the paunch of an animal
they have killed.
In March 1892, whilst examining the country between Manica and the East
coast, in company with Mr. Jesser Coope, with a view to laying out a
new waggon road between Umtali township and the railway terminus, we
came suddenly upon the remains of a buffalo which had been killed only
a few hours previously by a number of lions. These animals must have
heard us approaching, and only retreated into the long grass just as
we rode up, and as the whole country was covered with grass eight feet
high all pursuit was hopeless. Judging by the number of distinct ‘lay
places’ round the carcase of the buffalo, which were ten in number,
there must either have been ten lions, or five, each of which had lain
down in two different places. The latter number, I think, is the true
estimate, and the party probably consisted of an old lion and four
lionesses, as there were no cub spoors. The carcase of the buffalo,
from which almost all the meat had been eaten, had been disembowelled
in the usual neat and cleanly manner, and at a distance of some ten
yards off it stood two mounds, apparently of earth and grass. I pointed
these out to my young friend, and said, ‘The lions have buried the
paunch and entrails of the buffalo beneath those mounds.’ This work had
been done most effectually, a space of several yards square having been
cleared of grass, all of which, together with a great deal of earth,
had been piled up on the two mounds. Wishing to sit up that night and
watch over the carcase, we did not at the moment disturb the earth
and grass-covered heaps or do anything which might have aroused the
suspicions of the lions, but rode back to our waggon, and returning
at once with some Kafirs built a shelter at the foot of a tree, a few
yards from the carcase of the buffalo, in which Mr. Jesser Coope and
myself took up our positions for the night, the Kafirs returning to the
waggon. However, strange to say, the lions never put in an appearance,
and so our watch was in vain and we neither saw nor heard anything more
of them. On the following morning I commenced to turn over the heaps in
which I thought the paunch and entrails were hidden, in order to get
some of the large horned dung beetles which are common in this part of
Africa, and I very soon found to my surprise that, though the vegetable
contents of the paunch and entrails had been hidden from view, there
was no animal matter there whatever, so that I cannot but conclude
that in this instance, at any rate, the lions had eaten all the animal
portions of the paunch and entrails of a recently killed animal.
Two instances have come under my notice of lions eating the remains
of one of their own species, and I think that when hungry they would
never be above such acts of cannibalism, but they would probably prefer
something else, just as a shipwrecked sailor would prefer Polar bear to
a steak off the comrade who had drawn the fatal lot. But with lions,
as with shipwrecked sailors, necessity knows no law, and I don’t
think any the worse of them because they are occasionally driven to
cannibalism.
There has been much discussion as to the manner in which lions kill
their prey. In ‘Wild Beasts and their Ways,’ the last of the many
interesting works on travel, sport and natural history for which
Englishmen are indebted to Sir Samuel Baker, that great authority says
that the lion uses his paw in attack with which to deal a crushing
blow in contradistinction to the tiger, which only makes use of its
claws to hold its prey. Now it is always possible that in a vast
continent like Africa animals of one species may develop different
habits in widely separated portions of the country; but, however that
may be, all my experience goes to show that, in Southern Africa, lions
kill their prey very much in the same way as Sir Samuel Baker tells
us tigers do in India; that is, they use their claws to hold their
victim, and do the killing with their teeth. A single large male lion
will sometimes kill a heavy ox or a buffalo cow, without using his
teeth at all, by breaking its neck, or rather causing the frightened
beast to break its own neck. Almost invariably when an ox or a buffalo
has been killed by a single lion, deep claw marks will be found on
the muzzle of the animal, and when that is the case, it will usually
be found that the neck has been dislocated. Such animals have been
killed in the following manner. We will suppose that a large heavy ox
weighing 1,000 lbs. is seized by a lion, whilst grazing or walking,
the attack being made from the left side. In that case the lion seizes
the ox by the muzzle with its left paw, pulling its head in under it.
At the same time with the extended claws of the right paw it holds its
victim by the top of the shoulder, its hind feet being firmly planted
on the ground. The ox plunges madly forward, and from the position in
which its head is held not seeing where it is going, and hampered by
the weight of the lion, soon falls, and rolling over, as often as not
breaks its neck by the weight of its own body.
When several lions attack an ox in concert, they do not kill the
animal as quickly and artistically as a single old male lion would have
done, but bite it and claw it all over, especially on the back of the
neck, the tops of the shoulder-blades, and on the elbow-joint and the
insides of the thighs. This inartistic work may possibly be owing to
the fact that when a family of lions is together the old lions leave
the younger animals to do the killing, in order to allow them to learn
their trade, or else because as soon as an old lion has seized an ox,
or a buffalo, or whatever animal it may be, the young ones, being
unable to restrain themselves, spring on to it, and bite it all over,
with the result that the unfortunate animal is not so cleanly killed as
he would have been had he been left to one old lion. Horses, donkeys
and zebras are killed by lions by being bitten at the back of the neck,
just behind the ears, or else in the throat; but always just round the
head. As far as my memory serves me, it is not usual for them to hold
a horse by the nose with one paw as they do an ox, and this ruse is, I
think, employed by them with horned animals in order to prevent them
making use of their horns. Full-grown giraffes are sometimes killed
by lions, though not very often. When they do fall victims they are
probably seized, and bitten high up in the neck near the head, whilst
lying down. Human beings when carried off by lions are usually seized
by the head, and in that case are killed instantaneously, the canine
teeth being driven through the skull at the first bite. If the head is
not the part first bitten it will be the shoulder, and in that case the
man will probably have been lying on his side with the one shoulder
exposed.
As far as my experience goes, I have never known an instance of a lion
carrying its prey raised from the ground. Even such small and light
animals as goats, impala antelopes, and young wart-hogs are always
held by the head or neck, and dragged along the ground at the side of
the lion. When a heavy animal like a horse or an ox is dragged, it is
always held by the neck. I simply cannot believe in the possibility of
a lion’s springing over a palisade and carrying the carcase of an ox
with him. When lions break into cattle kraals at night, they never or
very seldom spring over the fence even when it is a low one, but work
their way through the bottom of the fence. They will sometimes walk
round and round a stockaded kraal, that one would have expected them to
leap over at once without difficulty, and finally effect an entrance by
forcing two poles apart and squeezing through. If suddenly disturbed or
fired at at night whilst inside a kraal, they will often spring over
the fence in their hurry to get out.
[Illustration: My best lion]
The wild lion of Southern Africa seldom presents the majestic
appearance of the picture-book animal, because as a rule he does not
carry a long shaggy mane, like the lions one often sees in menageries.
Occasionally, however, one sees a wild lion with a fine full dark mane,
and then he is a magnificent animal, and one of the noblest prizes
that can fall to the sportsman’s rifle. I have been much struck by the
beauty of the manes of many of the lions shot by Colonel Arthur Paget,
Lord Wolverton, Lord Delamere and other sportsmen in Somaliland, and
I think there can be no doubt that in that part of Africa the lions
grow better manes on an average than in South Africa. The dark parts
are, too, of a deeper black. But I have not yet seen a lion’s skin from
Somaliland with so full a mane as in the three best skins I have seen
from South Africa. None of these three splendid animals were, alas!
shot by myself. One was killed by the natives in Matabeleland and its
skin given me by Lo Bengula, and I still have it in my possession;
the second was killed at the Umfuli river in Mashonaland by my friend
Cornelis van Rooyen, and the third two years ago within a few miles of
the same spot by Hans Lee, the young Boer hunter who accompanied Lord
Randolph Churchill on his recent expedition to South Africa.
Although I have seen a very large number of skins of wild lions, I
have never yet seen one with long hair growing on the belly as is so
common in menagerie lions and invariable in the picture-book animal. A
wild lion with a very fine mane will have a tuft of long hair in the
arm-pit, another on the elbow, and in some cases a tuft in the flank,
but the hair of the belly is always short and close, as on the rest of
the body. In the great majority of cases the mane of the wild lion is
simply a ruff round the neck with an extension down the back between
the shoulders. In very rare and exceptional cases the angle formed
between the end of this extension and the point of the shoulder is
covered with mane, as it is very commonly in the menagerie lion; but,
as a rule, the whole shoulder of the wild lion is devoid of mane. Very
often a large heavy full-grown male lion, a splendid animal in strength
and symmetry, will have scarcely any mane at all, and his skin is not
then a handsome trophy.
There are very few authentic statistics regarding the weight of
lions, and I am unfortunately not able to cast much light on this
subject. Sir Samuel Baker, in ‘Wild Beasts and their Ways,’ gives no
actual statistics regarding the weight of any particular lions, but
appears to think that full-grown well-fed males of this species would
on an average weigh from five to six hundred pounds. Not long ago a
question was asked at my suggestion through the columns of the ‘Field’
newspaper on this very subject, but with one exception no satisfactory
information was elicited. The exception to which I refer was a
communication from Mr. William Yellowly, of South Shields, and ran as
follows:--
In reply to the query in last week’s issue of the ‘Field’ anent
the weight of lions, I beg to state that a fine black-maned
lion, which died in the late Mrs. Edmond’s menagerie at
Warrington on February 18, 1875, was sent to me the next day.
The following measurements before skinning will give an idea of
its magnificent proportions: Length from nose to root of tail,
6 ft. 10 ins.; from nose to tip of tail, 10 ft.; girth behind
shoulder, 4 ft. 9 ins.; girth of upper arm, 1 ft. 10 ins.;
height at shoulder 3 ft. 6 ins.; and its dead weight was 31
stone or 434 lbs.
These statistics appear to me to be perfectly reliable, and I regard
them as the carefully taken weight and measurements of a large well-fed
menagerie lion. How the measurement for length was taken from nose to
tip of tail I do not know, but I should fancy along the curves of the
head and back, which would make it an inch or two more than if it had
been taken in a perfectly straight line between two pegs, one driven
into the ground at the nose, and the other at the extremity of the tail
of the dead animal. I will now give the few statistics regarding the
weight and measurements of wild lions which I can vouch for as being
authentic.
Many years ago a lion was shot one night at Kati in Western
Matabeleland inside the cattle kraal, where it had killed an ox, and
the next morning early the carcase was placed on the large scale used
for weighing ivory, which stood under the verandah of one of the
traders’ houses at only a few yards distance from the cattle kraal.
This lion weighed 376 lbs.; it was a large full-grown animal, but in
low condition.
In 1887 a lion, shot by myself and friends close to our waggon, was
carried into camp and carefully weighed, and was found to turn the
scale at 385 lbs. This was a fine animal in good condition but with no
fat about him, and my impression at the time was that he would have
grown bigger and heavier, as his mane was short, and did not appear to
have reached its full length and beauty.
In the end of 1891 I shot a very large lion at Hartley Hills in
Mashonaland, and weighed and measured it carefully, as it was killed
within three hundred yards of the settlement. This animal, which was a
remarkably fine specimen of a wild lion, was in excellent condition,
its whole belly being covered with a layer of fat quite half an inch
in thickness; it was also a very large animal, as its measurements
will show, and I was much surprised to find that its weight was not
greater than it proved to be. As the scale on which I weighed it only
registered a weight of 220 lbs., I had to skin and cut the lion up,
and weigh him by instalments, and the aggregate of the weights was
408 lbs. As a good deal of blood was lost when his head was cut off,
I will add two pounds to this figure, and say that this lion’s dead
weight was not less than 410 lbs. I was much disappointed with this
lion, as I expected him to weigh 500 lbs. He was an old animal, and
might have weighed more when he was a few years younger, as in spite of
being fat and well fed, I don’t think his quarters were so rounded and
muscular as they might have been. The measurements of his skull--which
is now in the collection of the Natural History Museum at South
Kensington--are identical with those of the skull of the largest lion
shot by Colonel Arthur Paget in Somaliland, as given in Mr. Ward’s
book of game measurements; the weight of the skull is 5½ lbs., or ½
lb. in excess of the weight of the very large skull of a lion shot by
Mr. Geddes in Eastern Africa, the measurements of which are recorded
in the same book. I took the extreme length and the standing height of
this lion very carefully; taking the distance with a tape line between
pegs driven in firstly at the point of the nose and the tip of the
tail, and secondly at the top of the shoulder-blade and the ball of the
forefoot, the limb being held straight the while. These measurements
give his extreme length in a straight line as he lay dead as 9 ft. 11
ins., and his vertical standing height to the top of the shoulder-blade
as 3 ft. 8 ins. The height to the top of the mane, however, with which
his shoulders were thickly covered and which was his apparent standing
height, was exactly 4 ft. When the skin of this lion was pegged out on
the ground it measured 11 ft. 9 ins. in extreme length from nose to tip
of tail.
The last lion which I shot, on October 3, 1892, near the Pungwe
river in South-Eastern Africa, was a very thick-set, massive animal,
and enormously fat. He would, I think, have weighed very heavy,
but unfortunately I had no scale with me. I took a few careful
measurements, however, which are as follows: Length as he lay in a
straight line between pegs driven into the ground at the nose and tip
of the tail, 9 ft. 1 in.; vertical standing height at shoulder, 3
ft. 4 ins.; girth of body behind the shoulders, 4 ft. 0½ ins.; girth
of forearm, 17 ins.; length of pegged-out skin exactly 11 ft. If any
conclusion can be drawn from these few statistics, it is I think that a
lion which weighs much over 400 lbs. is an exceptionally heavy animal.
One of the most striking characteristics of the lion is his roar,
for there is no more magnificent sound in Nature than the volume of
sound produced by a party of lions roaring in unison, that is, if one
is fortunate enough to be very near to them. It is, however, a rare
occurrence to hear lions roar loudly within a short distance of one’s
camp, and in all my experience, though I have heard these animals
roaring upon hundreds of different occasions, I can count the nights
on the fingers of one hand when, all unconscious of my near vicinity,
a party of several lions has roared freely within 100 yards of where
I was lying. Last year, whilst hunting with two companions in the
neighbourhood of the Pungwe river, I don’t think a single night passed
during the six weeks we remained in that part of the country that we
did not hear lions, and sometimes three different parties of these
animals were roaring round our camp at the same time. But on no single
occasion were they ever within a mile of where we were sleeping, and as
there are probably few parts of Africa where lions are more plentiful
than in this particular district, I think it is quite possible to have
had a very considerable experience of African travel and yet never
to have heard lions roaring freely at very close quarters. If ever
experienced, such a serenade can never be forgotten, for it is at once
magnificent yet calculated to fill the soul with awe.
It is a fact I think which admits of no dispute that lions only roar
freely in countries where they have not been much disturbed, and where
they are practically the masters of the situation, and as soon as a
district in which these animals exist is much hunted over, they become
comparatively silent. Thus, although lions are still fairly numerous in
the neighbourhood of the outlying mining camps in Mashonaland, where
they continually make their presence disagreeably felt by killing the
donkeys, oxen and horses of the prospectors, they are seldom heard
to roar at nights, and I have noticed this same peculiarity in other
newly settled districts. Loud roaring is usually, I think, a sign of
happiness and contentment, and is indulged in very often when on the
way down to drink, after a good meal. Naturally, when hungry and on
the look out for their prey, lions do not roar, but remain perfectly
silent, and when they attack one’s camp at night, the first intimation
received of their presence will be given by the cries and struggles
of the animal they seize. When standing at bay lions do not roar, but
keep up a continuous loud hoarse growling, which can be heard at a
considerable distance.
It has always appeared to me that lions succumb more quickly to wounds
in the front part of the body, in the neighbourhood of the heart and
lungs, than do any of the antelopes living in the same country; but,
as with all other animals, shots through the stomach, intestines, or
hind-quarters do them little immediate harm, unless indeed the back
or leg bones are injured, when they are at once disabled. Although,
as I have said earlier in this chapter, lions almost always retreat
before the presence of man, they become very savage when wounded, and
it is undoubtedly highly dangerous work following them into long grass
or thick cover without dogs. My experience in Southern Africa has
shown me that wounded lions are far more likely to charge than wounded
buffaloes, and although they may be more easily stopped, they are much
quicker and more difficult to hit than those animals.
I have only shot lions with two kinds of rifles, a single 10-bore
carrying a spherical bullet and six drachms of powder, and a .450-bore
Metford rifle by George Gibbs of Bristol, carrying either a 360-grain
expanding bullet and ninety grains of powder, or a 540-grain solid
bullet and seventy-five grains of powder; and in my opinion the
.450-bore with the heavy 360-grain expanding bullet was the more deadly
weapon. These expanding bullets, having but a very small hole at the
point and a good solid base, possess great penetrating power, as may be
believed when I say that they will reach the brain of a hippopotamus,
should they enter at the side of the head between the ear and the
eye. They will go clean through a lion behind the shoulders, after
first making a very large hole through his lungs; and if the animal be
struck in the shoulder, the bones will be smashed and the solid end
of the bullet will go right through the cavity of the chest, probably
piercing the heart, and lodge in the further shoulder. I think that
the effectiveness of a rifle depends more on the bullet it carries
than on its bore, and should consider a .450-bore rifle such as I have
described carrying a 360-grain expanding bullet, with only a small
hollow and a good solid end, a more trustworthy weapon than a rifle
of a much larger bore carrying a short light bullet with a very large
hollow. Doubtless a good .577-bore rifle is a much more powerful weapon
than any .450; but the latter if carrying a good heavy bullet will be
found very effective for lion shooting, and is not only lighter and
handier than the larger rifle, but has no recoil, as the charge of
powder is comparatively small.
I will now conclude this chapter by giving an account of the death of
the largest lion that it has been my fortune to bag--the same animal
whose weight and dimensions I have given on p. 329.
Towards the end of the second year of the occupation of Mashonaland
by the British South Africa Company, I was sent to some of the mining
camps to the north and west of Salisbury, in order to make a report
upon the roads in those districts. On December 8, 1891, I reached
Hartley Hills, one of the outlying stations of the British South
Africa Company, where, at the time of my visit, there were about
twenty Europeans living, most of whom were employed in mining work.
Among the company’s officials were Mr. Woodthorpe Graham, the gold
commissioner and chief magistrate of the district, and Dr. Edgelow,
the district surgeon. For some days previous to my arrival at the
station, the weather had been very rainy, and the sky dull and cloudy.
Hartley Hills are, I may here say, two small ‘kopjes,’ formed of
granite boulders piled up one upon another to a height of perhaps 100
feet above the surrounding country. On one of these hills stood the
stores and dwelling houses of Frank Johnson & Co., while the Gold
Commissioner and the Doctor occupied the other; and it was at the foot
of the latter hill that I outspanned my waggon at a distance of not
more than twenty yards from Mr. Graham’s compound. As I knew that a
great deal of damage had been done lately by one particular lion, which
had been seen on several occasions, and which was always described as
a very large animal with a fine mane, I was in hopes that he might
still be about, and thought that if he would only be good enough to
pay a visit to the settlement whilst I was there, I might get a good
chance of shooting him, as the wet weather, I imagined, would make the
ground sufficiently soft to enable me to track him. Not content with
killing oxen and donkeys at some little distance from the settlement,
this lion had one night so frightened two valuable horses belonging to
Mr. Frank Johnson that they had rushed at the door of their stable, and
breaking the thongs with which it was secured, broken out, and run up
the hill, where they were both killed within a few yards of a dwelling
hut usually occupied by Mr. Johnson, who was, however, absent at the
time. The carcase of the one horse was left entirely untouched, I was
informed, the animal having been killed by a bite at the back of the
head, the lion making his meal off his other victim, which was possibly
in better condition.
My first question after my arrival at Hartley Hills was as to whether
this lion was still in the district, and I was much disappointed to
learn that nothing had been heard of him lately. I found my old friend
Mr. Graham just packing up for a three days’ trip into the country
to the west of the Umfuli river, where some rich gold reefs had been
discovered, on which he was anxious to report. That evening I had
dinner with Dr. Edgelow, and a long chat afterwards, and as, when it
was time to turn in, a drizzly rain was falling, I resolved to take
possession of Mr. Graham’s hut for the night, instead of going down to
my waggon. As it wanted about three days to full moon, it would have
been a bright moonlight night had the weather been fine, but as it was
the sky was thickly overcast with clouds. Before quitting Dr. Edgelow I
remarked to him what a beautiful night it was for a lion, regarded, of
course, from a lion’s point of view, as these animals are always most
dangerous on dark, rainy nights. My waggon, as I have said before, was
standing just at the foot of the rocks, the oxen being tied two and two
in the yokes; but besides the working cattle I had a spare animal that
always lay loose at no great distance from the others. My old shooting
horse was tied to the forewheel of the waggon, on the side nearest
to the hill, whilst my old servant and waggon-driver, John, and two
Kafirs, were sleeping under a shelter which they had made on the other
side of the waggon.
I had sat up till a late hour talking with Dr. Edgelow, and when
I at last went to bed in Mr. Graham’s hut the camp was perfectly
quiet, everyone being fast asleep, an example which I was not long
in following. I must have slept for some hours when I was suddenly
awakened by the discharge of a rifle. Being inside the hut I awoke
without any distinct idea of the direction in which the shot had been
fired; but the first report was quickly followed by a second which I
knew must have been fired from my waggon. Jumping up I at once made
for the door of the hut and opened it just as a third shot was fired.
‘What’s the matter?’I called out in Dutch to John. ‘It’s a lion, sir;
he has killed the loose ox,’ he answered, and again fired. This time
the shot was answered by a low hoarse growl, the bullet, I suppose,
having passed very close to the marauder. I was soon down at the waggon
alongside of John, but nothing was to be either seen or heard. The rain
had ceased, but as the moon was now down, and it was very cloudy, the
darkness was intense, and it was evident that nothing could be done
till daylight. John felt sure the ox was dead, as he had heard it make
a short rush and fall heavily twice, after which all was still, and as
we could now hear nothing, we both thought the lion had been scared
away from the carcase by the last shot. It is worthy of remark that,
although this ox was seized and killed by a lion within thirty yards
of fourteen other oxen that were tied to the yokes, not one of them
evinced the slightest alarm, and the greater part of them lay quietly
chewing the cud till daylight, undisturbed either by the near proximity
of the lion or by the shots fired by John. I suppose the lion had come
up below the wind, and never having scented him, they did not realise
what had happened. My old horse, however, which was always very nervous
and fidgetty in the presence of lions, seemed fully aware of what had
occurred, as with ears pricked forwards, and looking in the direction
whence the low hoarse growl of the lion had proceeded, he kept shifting
his feet uneasily, every now and again snorting loudly.
It did not want more than an hour to daylight, so I had a kettle
of coffee made, and then sat over the fire talking with John, and
discussing the probabilities of getting a shot at the lion in the
morning. As the ground was so wet from the heavy rain that had been
falling during the last few days, we both thought we should be able to
follow the lion’s tracks and come up with him without the aid of dogs,
and I was in great hopes that our visitor would prove to be a fine male
with a good mane whose skin would fully compensate me for the loss of
the ox.
When at last the morning broke dull and misty I went and examined the
carcase of the ox, which, as soon as there was a little light, we could
see lying just on the edge of the waggon-road coming from Salisbury,
at a distance of about thirty yards from the waggon. The ground being
so soft from the recent rains we had an excellent opportunity of
seeing exactly how this ox had been seized and killed. The lion had
evidently approached the unsuspecting animal very quietly whilst it
was lying asleep within twenty yards of the other oxen, and seized it
unawares, or just as it was rising to its feet after becoming conscious
of the unwelcome presence. Then springing upon his victim, with his
left paw he had seized it by the muzzle, holding it by the top of
the shoulder-blade with the claws of the right paw, and at the same
time keeping his hind feet on the ground. Thus held, the ox--a large
heavy animal weighing as he stood 900 or 1,000 lbs.--had plunged madly
forwards for a few yards, rolled over, regained his feet, and after
another plunge again fallen, apparently breaking his neck by his own
weight. The lion seemed never to have relaxed the first hold he had
taken of the muzzle and shoulder of the ox, and the marks of his hind
feet, stamped deep into the muddy ground with outstretched claws,
were plainly discernible alongside the tracks of the ox. The ox was
ultimately killed by having his neck broken, and lay with his head
doubled in under him, there being no mark of a wound upon him but the
claw marks on the muzzle and shoulder. Except that one ear had been
bitten off, the carcase was untouched, the lion having been scared away
by John’s bullets, which must have whizzed unpleasantly near him, and
caused him to beat a hasty retreat.
[Illustration: ‘Springing upon his victim’]
As soon as it was fairly light I saddled my horse, and John and I took
up the spoor, which led us down to the little river Simbo, a small
stream, about three hundred yards from my waggon, which runs into the
Umfuli River, just below Hartley Hills. For about a mile beyond the
Simbo we were able to follow without difficulty the tracks of what
was evidently a large male lion, as the ground was low-lying and soft
from the recent heavy rains; but after this the spoor got into soil
of a different nature, thickly covered with short grass, where the
footprints left but little trace. Suffice it to say that we followed
the tracks for over three hours, and finally lost them in stony ground,
and could not manage to pick them up again. For another hour I rode
about examining all the patches of bush in the neighbourhood, as I
felt sure the lion was somewhere near at hand, waiting for night, to
return to the carcase of the ox he had killed. However, as I could
not discover his whereabouts or find any further trace of him, I was
obliged to give up the pursuit and returned to camp, resolved to sit up
and watch the carcase that night.
On again reaching the settlement, Mr. Somerville, who was in charge
of Mr. Johnson’s compound, informed me that the lion had walked past
his cattle kraal, in which there were a few goats, sheep, and calves,
and had killed one of the goats by putting his paw between the poles
of which the enclosure was made. Seizing the animal by the throat,
which he had torn open, the lion had severed the jugular vein, so that
the beast bled to death. This had evidently been done before my ox
was killed, and apparently out of sheer exuberance of spirits, as no
attempt had been made to pull the carcase out of the kraal by forcing
two of the poles forming the palisade apart from one another.
After breakfast, I went and examined the ground round the dead ox, with
a view to choosing a position from which to watch for the lion. The
carcase was lying with its back on the edge of the waggon-road, the
hind quarters being nearest to my camp. A small tree was growing close
to the extended legs of the dead ox, and actually within six feet of
either the fore or hind feet. This tree branched into two main stems
at about two feet from the ground, and as a rifle protruded between
them would be within three yards of any part of the carcase, I resolved
to make a small shelter behind its trunk. I wished to be as near as
possible to the carcase, because, on a former occasion, I had lain for
several hours one night within ten yards of a dead ox at which lions
were feeding without being able to see anything of them, and as they
left before daylight I never got a shot at them at all. This time, as
I thought it possible that the lion might not come back until after the
moon had set, when it would be intensely dark, I was determined to be
as close to him as possible. There being only one lion to deal with, I
was not much afraid of his interfering with me, at any rate before he
was fired at, and so made my shelter as small as possible in order that
it should not attract his attention. We first chopped a few straight
poles, and leant them together at the back of the tree, and then
covered them with some leafy branches.
That evening I had dinner with Dr. Edgelow, and about half-past seven,
just as night was closing in, took my rifle and blankets and crawled
into my shelter, in which I had only just room to sit upright. John
then closed the entrance behind me, and I prepared for a long vigil.
As the moon was now within two nights of the full, it would have been
a lovely moonlight night had it not been that the sky was overcast
with clouds; but these clouds were light and fleecy, so that the moon
gave a strong light through them. Looking through the side of my leafy
shelter, I could very distinctly see John and the two Kafir boys
sitting by their fire at the side of the waggon, as well as the head
of my old horse, which was tied to the forewheel on the further side;
my oxen, too, I could clearly distinguish, so clearly indeed, that I
could make out their colours, and see the raw-hide thongs with which
they were tied to the yokes. Some were standing up, and every now and
again one of these would move about and rattle the iron trek-chain as
he did so, but the greater part of them were lying down chewing the cud
contentedly, after a good day’s feed. Besides my waggon, I could see,
too, all the huts on the hillside within Mr. Graham’s compound, and
hear the Kafir workboys talking and laughing noisily, as is their wont
while sitting round the camp fire of an evening.
As the shooting-hole between the diverging branches of the tree behind
which I sat only allowed me to get a view directly over the carcase
of the ox, I arranged another opening to the right which gave me a
good view up the waggon road along which I thought the lion would
most likely come, and I placed the muzzle of my rifle in this opening
when I entered my shelter. As the night was so light, I thought it
very likely that my vigil might be a long one; for even if he did not
wait until the moon had set, I never imagined that the lion would put
in an appearance until after midnight when the camp would be quite
quiet. Under this impression, I had just finished the arrangement of
my blankets, placing some behind me and the rest beneath me, so as to
make myself as comfortable as possible in so confined a space, and was
just leaning back, and dreamily wondering whether I could keep awake
all night, when, still as in a dream, I saw the form of a magnificent
lion pass rapidly and noiselessly as a phantom of the night across the
moonlit disc of the shooting-hole I had made to the right of the tree
stem. In another instant he had passed and was hidden by the tree, but
a moment later his shaggy head again appeared before the opening formed
by the diverging stems. Momentary as had been the glimpse I had of him
as he passed the right-hand opening, I had marked him as a magnificent
black-maned lion with neck and shoulders well covered with long shaggy
hair. He now stood with his forelegs right against the breast of the
dead ox, and with his head held high, gazed fixedly towards my waggon
and oxen, every one of which he could of course see very distinctly, as
well as my boy John and the Kafirs beside him. I heard my horse snort,
and knew he had seen the lion, but the oxen, although they must have
seen him too, showed no sign of fear. The Kafirs were still laughing
and talking noisily not fifty yards away, and, bold as he was, the lion
must have felt a little anxious as he stood silently gazing in the
direction from which he thought danger might be apprehended.
All this time, but without ever taking my eyes off the lion, I was
noiselessly moving the muzzle of my little rifle from the right-hand
side opening to the space that commanded a view of his head. This I was
obliged to do very cautiously, for fear of touching a branch behind
me and making a noise. I could see the black crest of mane between
his ears move lightly in the wind, for he was so near that had I held
my rifle by the small of the stock I could have touched him with the
muzzle by holding it at arm’s length. Once only he turned his head and
looked round right into my eyes, but of course without seeing me, as I
was in the dark, and apparently without taking the slightest alarm, as
he again turned his head and stood looking at the waggon as before. I
could only see his head, his shoulder being hidden by the right-hand
stem of the tree, and I had made up my mind to try and blow his brains
out, thinking I was so near that I could not fail to do so even without
being able to see the sight of my rifle. I had just got the muzzle of
my rifle into the fork of the tree, and was about to raise it quite
leisurely, the lion having hitherto showed no signs of uneasiness.
I was working as cautiously as possible, when without the slightest
warning he suddenly gave a low grating growl, and turned round, his
head disappearing instantly from view. With a jerk, I pulled the muzzle
of my rifle from the one opening and pushed it through the other, just
as the lion walked rapidly past in the direction from which he had
come. He was not more than four or five yards from me, and I should
certainly have given him a mortal wound, had not my rifle missed fire
at this most critical juncture, the hammer giving a loud click in the
stillness of the night. At the sound the lion broke into a gallop, and
was almost instantly out of sight.
For a moment I was almost paralysed by the magnitude of the misfortune
that had befallen me. That a magnificent black-maned lion should have
been within six feet of the muzzle of my rifle, and should yet have
escaped, owing to a miss-fire, seemed the very irony of fate. I could
scarcely believe that the whole scene was not an illusion or a vivid
dream; but when I called out in Dutch, ‘Myn Gott, John, myn roer het
dopje afgeklap’ (‘My God, John, my gun has missed fire’), and heard
him answer, ‘Ik hor em, Sir’ (‘I heard it, Sir’), then I knew that I
had really experienced a most extraordinary piece of ill-luck. It was
not yet half-past eight, and the first thing I did was to go up to Dr.
Edgelow’s hut, and take my rifle to pieces. The cap had been untouched
by the striker, and I thought at first that the point of the latter
was broken, but I found it in perfect order. Finally I discovered that
the miss-fire was owing to the safety-bolt having got so loose that it
must have shifted up a little when I jerked the rifle rapidly from one
opening to another, and thus prevented the striker from coming down on
the cap. After fixing the safety-bolt down to full cock I went to my
waggon. I felt sure the lion would not now return, if he came back at
all, till just before daybreak, when the moon would have set and it
would be very dark.
I was so upset and exasperated by the cruel experience I had met with
that I could not lie still or sleep, and so spent the greater part
of the night in walking about round my waggon. At last the moon went
down, and I then turned in and lay listening, hoping to hear the lion
at the carcase, but he did not return, and presently, just as the day
was breaking, John brought me the usual early cup of coffee. As I had
not slept at all, I told him to see if he could follow the lion’s spoor
and see in which direction he had gone, and then tried to doze a bit.
Presently I got up, when John came up with a broad grin on his face,
and said, ‘Sir, after the lion went off when your rifle missed fire, he
went up to Mr. Johnson’s kraal and killed a lot of sheep and goats. One
of these he ate in the kraal, and he has taken another away with him.
I can see the spoor plainly where he has dragged it along towards the
little stream running below Hartley Hills.’
I felt there was yet a chance, and a good one, of retrieving my evil
fortune of the previous evening, and at once had my horse saddled
up. The spoor of the lion himself was easy enough to follow in the
soft ground at the foot of the hill, and the tracking was made all
the easier by the fact that he had dragged the goat alongside of him,
holding it, I suppose, by the back of the neck, and trailing its
hind-quarters on the ground. In less than five minutes after I had put
the saddle on my horse we were down at the little stream across which
we had followed the lion on the preceding day. Here the ground became
stony, and we lost the spoor. John was looking about near the edge of
the shallow water, and I had turned my horse’s head to look along the
bank higher up, when the unmistakable growl of a lion issued from the
bushes beyond the rivulet, and at the same time John said ‘Daar’s hij’
(‘There he is’). I was off my horse in an instant to be ready for a
shot, when he turned round and trotted away, and John ran to try and
catch him. I thought the luck was all against me, as I expected the
lion would make off and get clean away; but I ran forward, trying to
get a sight of him, when he suddenly made his appearance in the bush
about fifty yards away, and catching sight of me, came straight towards
me at a rapid pace, holding his head low and growling savagely. I
suppose he wanted to frighten me, but he could not have done a kinder
thing. He came right on to the further bank of the little stream just
where it formed a pool of water, and stood there amongst some rocks
growling and whisking his tail about, and always keeping his eyes
fixed upon me. Of course he gave me a splendid shot, and in another
instant I hit him, between the neck and the shoulder in the side of his
chest, with a 360-grain expanding bullet. As I pulled the trigger I
felt pretty sure he was mine. With a loud roar he reared right up, and
coming over sideways fell off the rock on which he had been standing
into the pool of water below him. The water was over three feet deep,
and for an instant he disappeared entirely from view, but the next
instant regaining his feet, stood on the bottom with his head and
shoulders above the surface. I now came towards him, when again seeing
me he came plunging through the water towards me growling angrily. But
his strength was fast failing him, and I saw it was all he could do to
reach the bank, so I did not fire, as I was anxious not to make holes
in his skin. He just managed to get up the bank, when I finished him
with a shot through the lungs, to which he instantly succumbed. He
proved to be a splendid specimen of a wild lion, an old animal, but
in good condition, with an excellent coat and a full, long, and silky
black mane.
[Illustration: My best koodoo]
This is the largest lion it has yet been my good fortune to kill,
and I have given his weight and dimensions in a former part of this
chapter. After leaving the carcase of the ox he had killed, which I
suppose he considered to be too near to my waggon to be altogether
safe, he had gone up to Mr. Johnson’s kraal, and, forcing his way in by
separating two of the poles that formed the palisade, had deliberately
killed seven sheep, seven goats, and one calf. These poor animals had
evidently all huddled into a corner, where they had stood paralysed
by terror. I examined all the carcases carefully, and found that every
one had been killed by a single bite in the head. In every case the
long fang-teeth had been driven deep into the brains, which in several
cases protruded from the fractured skulls. One sheep had been eaten in
the kraal, and a goat had been dragged away to be devoured at leisure;
and the assurance of this lion may be imagined when I say that the spot
where he had taken up his quarters for the day was within three hundred
yards of the compound on the top of the hill.