The red book of animal stories/Lion-Hunting and Lions
LION-HUNTING AND LIONS
In the country of the Shoolis. which is one of the districts drained by the rivers that flow into the Nile, hunting is carried on under very strict rules. In most savage places men go and kill what beasts they like when they are hungry, but among the Shoolis this was not allowed, and everything was arranged by a grand council of the villagers, presided over by the chief.
Sometimes, when all was settled, the chief would give a party before the hunt, and as many as a thousand guests would arrive from the villages round, clad in their smartest ostrich feathers and best leopard-skin cloaks. Then they would dine off freshly killed oxen, and afterwards a sorcerer would work them spells, first to preserve them from accidents, and then to bring them plenty of game.
So, when Baker's people began to want fresh meat, he arranged with the chiefs of the tribe for a hunt, and this was how they set about it.
On the day appointed some thousands of people—men, women, and even babies—assembled at the place of meeting, each man carrying a net twelve yards long and eleven feet high, the boys bearing lances, suited to their sizes.
They marched several miles, and as they went along other natives would silently join in, till the company reached a wide treeless grass country, broken up by many streams. Here the nets were set up in a line about a mile and a half across, and every man went to his station on each side of the net, hidden by the long grass, tied together at the top. By the rules of the chase all the beasts killed before each twelve yards of net belonged to the owner of the netting, who had to pay the tribute of a hind leg from every animal to the man on whose ground the hunt happened to be.
When all was ready a whistle, taken up and repeated for two miles down the line, gave the signal. The men touched with their fire sticks the dry grass, and soon little columns of smoke were seen rising into the air. Not a native was in sight, and Baker, who was standing beside a tall ant-hill, concealed himself as well as he could.
A fresh breeze was blowing, and the fire spread rapidly with a loud roar, and the Englishmen began to look to their guns. A huge rhinoceros made its appearance first, but turned off to the right, and no more was seen of him. After that the rush became thick and fast: leopards, antelopes, hartebeests, dashed wildly along, followed closely by a lion and lioness, far too frightened themselves to think of attacking the antelopes, who, on their part, gave no heed to them. Baker aimed at the head of the lion, but before he could shoot a woolly black head bobbed up between him and his prey. He had forgotten the natives lying in the grass near the nets, and the lion swept by and bounded over the stream, and no more was heard of him!
Bad though the fire was for the animals, things were not much better for the Englishmen, who were nearly blinded by the smoke, and fired wildly in the hopes of killing something. At length the flames reached the shore and at once died down, and when the smoke had a little blown away they all came out from their hiding places to count the spoil. Antelopes had suffered the most, and enough of them had been killed to supply the people for many days. Buffaloes had been seen, but they had headed in another direction and escaped; while, as for a rhinoceros, the net had yet to be made that would stand up before his great carcass. Some days later, when Baker's share of the hunt had all been eaten by his men, he got leave to go with a few natives and shoot what was necessary to supply his camp. But the animals were still so wild after the fire that it was impossible to get near enough for a shot, and at last the owners of the land proposed that they should fire the grass to windward, as before.
This time Baker took care to choose a position with some swampy ground in front, so that when the fire reached him it would be stopped, and he would no longer have the smoke blown into his eyes.
Again, antelopes were more numerous than anything else, but none of them came within reach of Baker's own gun. After waiting a little, however, he saw a fine specimen moving quietly towards him down a bank into a dip, and made ready for a shot. The antelope was just in the act of jumping down from the slope into the hollow when he almost tumbled against a huge lion, which had come up from the other side, and was flying before the fire. Both lion and antelope were so much startled by the shock that they bounded away in opposite directions, the lion taking a line through the tall grass, which would bring him straight in front of Baker.
For a few minutes all was silent, Baker leaning against the ant-hill, with one gun in readiness and another by his side, and the two black boys crouching on the ground at his feet.
Suddenly a rustling was heard in the grass, and all three waited breathlessly till the head of a lioness appeared, coming slowly but steadily towards the spot where the two boys were sitting.
A ball in her chest stopped her proceedings for a moment, and she rolled over three times, uttering terrific, roars all the while, Then she got up, apparently none the worse, and, lashed to fury by a second shot, advanced by high leaps towards the frightened boys.
On this, Baker, who had till now been hidden behind the ant-hills, snatched up his spare gun and stood in front of his cover. The lioness was startled by this movement, and half turned, receiving as she did so a charge of shot in her hind quarters. This decided her to retreat, and the grass soon hid her from sight, though they still heard her groaning.
Then some of the other men came up, and were hastily placed in line to receive the lioness when she should make her charge.
A shot soon brought her out, charging in those tremendous leaps so frightening to see, and the spears thrown by the natives missed her entirely. There was nothing for it but flight, and in a moment the black men were tearing for their lives in every direction. But a shot from Baker's breech-loader right in the chest rolled her over a second time, when she had almost reached him, and a ball at the back of her neck, fired at twelve yards distance, at last put an end to her struggles.
Inside her stomach was found a freshly eaten antelope, which the black men, who were not particular, begged to have for their dinner. After this it is not surprising to hear that they were prepared to eat the lioness herself, while the white men took the other antelope for their share.
Nearly sixty years have passed since Dr. Livingstone sailed for Algoa Bay, whence he was to start for his missionary travels into the centre of Africa. His journeys were made either by ox-back, or on foot, and at first the natives despised him for his size, which was much less than theirs; but it was not long before they learnt to take a different view of the white man who had come among them.
In the middle of the Bechuana country, which is bordered on the west by the great Kalahari desert, lies a village called Mabotsa. When Livingstone first visited Mabotsa, in the year 1843, he found all the people living in terror of the lions, which would not only invade the cattle-pens by night but attack the herds by day. This happens so seldom, unless the lions are very hungry, that the villagers explained it to themselves as being the result of a spell wrought by a neighbouring tribe, which had given them into the power of the lions; and as they stood rather in dread of the fierce beasts, the lions had it all their own way.
Livingstone, however, had other ideas about the matter. He knew that if they could only manage to kill one lion, the rest would go and look for their dinner elsewhere. So, when the herds were again attacked in the grazing ground in broad daylight, he persuaded a large body of men to come out with him and punish the robbers.
It was not long before the lions were seen comfortably seated on some rocks which jutted out from the plain, thickly covered with trees. Livingstone ordered his men to surround the hill completely, at a distance, and then gradually to approach nearer and nearer, so as to make a close circle. A shot from the native schoolmaster hit one of the animals lying on a spur of the rock, and very much surprised him. He bit fiercely at the place, as if he thought he had been stung by an insect, then got up, and clearing the circle at a bound, vanished into the distance.
Two other lions followed his example, and got off without a scratch, for neither Livingstone nor the school-master could fire from below, without risk to the men above; and the fear of magic seemed to have so paralysed the natives that they never even thought of using their spears, as was the custom of their nation. Seeing it was hopeless to get the men to act, Livingstone called them off, and gave the word to return to the village. On their way past the foot of the hill they came suddenly upon one of the animals sitting on a rock behind a small bush, and this time Livingstone resolved to take the law into his own hands, and not to trust to the Bechuanas. When thirty yards distant, he fired both barrels at the sitting lion, straight through the bush, and heard a cry of triumph from the natives. The lion might be shot, but he certainly was not dead, for his tail stood up in a threatening way. Thinking that the men would run forward before it was safe, and would attract the notice of the wounded beast, Livingstone called out to them to stop till he could reload his gun. He was just putting in the charge, when a cry caused him to look round. The lion was in the air, close to him. In sweeping by he seized the missionary's shoulder between his teeth, and brought him to the ground from the hummock on which he was standing, growling and shaking him all the while. After the first moment, Livingstone felt nothing. He lay still as if in a dream, not even frightened as to what was coming next, and quite unconscious of any pain; but gazing at the lion who stood above him, keeping his great paw on the head of his prey. From the position of the lion's eyes, Livingstone at once guessed that he was watching the schoolmaster Mebalwe, who, braver than his fellows, was trying to shoot him with a clumsy old gun, from a distance of fifteen yards. Both barrels missed, and with a roar the lion let go Livingstone and leapt upon Mebalwe, whom he caught by the thigh. On this a man thrust a spear into the lion from behind, and was instantly seized by the shoulder; but the bullets which were poured into the brute from other quarters now took effect, and the great beast fell back stone dead.
In the excitement of the battle, which, after all, had lasted only a few moments, the wounded men had hardly been aware of pain; but when they were all satisfied that their enemy was really dead, they began to examine their injuries. Livingstone had been partly saved by his jacket, which had received most of the poison of the
THE LION WAS IN THE AIR CLOSE TO HIM
lion's teeth, so that, although it was bad enough to have the bones of his arm crushed into splinters, the eleven flesh wounds on his shoulder, healed without leaving any ill-effects. The other two men, on the contrary, who had had nothing to protect them, suffered to the end of their lives from strange pains in the wounded parts, which were always particularly violent at the season of the year in which the lion had bitten them.
The next morning a great bonfire was made in the village, and the lion solemnly burnt; and from that moment the spell was pronounced broken—and the lions went away.
The idea that lions are the bravest of all animals dates from the time when very little was really known about them. Anyone who reads Mr. Livingstone's travels in South Africa will find that he tells a widely different tale. According to him, no single lion will ever attack a man by daylight or even moonlight, unless he is first attacked himself, or almost starving. Even on a dark, rainy night, the dread of falling into a trap is enough to keep him from assaulting any animal tied to a tree, and therefore at his mercy. It is curious how fear of pitfalls never leaves him! One day, an Englishman's horse, which had bolted and thrown its rider, was caught by its bridle in the fork of a tree and held fast. For two days search was made for it, but in vain. On the third they came upon the missing creature by accident, quite safe and sound, though all round it were the marks of lions' paws! Any animal tied up seems to act as a charm against lions, by night as well as by day—they will not even attack a sheep, lest something unknown and terrible should be the consequence.
As a rule, unless they have little ones, nobody need be afraid of lions from sunrise to sunset! Livingstone and his family used often to meet them in their walks outside the camp, and after staring with surprise for a few seconds, the lion would turn slowly round and cautiously move away, keeping his head turned over his shoulder. When he had got to a little distance he would break into a trot, and finally, when he thought no one saw him, and he had no character to keep up, he bounded away as fast as he could. Indeed, the missionary positively declares that a man runs a much greater risk in crossing a London street than he is ever likely to do from the king of beasts—unless, of course, he is being hunted.
Besides, no young lion will look at a man as long as he can get any other food. It is only when he is old and loses his teeth that he gives up hunting wild game, and, driven by hunger, ventures down to the villages to catch goats, mice, or any stray man that may happen to be about. The village people know this so well, that when goats are found missing from the herd they will shake their heads, and say to each other, 'His teeth are worn, he will soon kill men,' and set about arranging a hunt immediately.
Lions generally attack their prey by leaping on to its flank from behind, though they will sometimes fly at the throat. A friend of Livingstone's tells a story of a sight he saw on the banks of Limpopo river, when on a hunting expedition in the year 1846. He was riding along with another man in search of game, when a fine water-buck jumped up from the reeds in front. The Englishman dismounted, in order to follow it, and by doing so disturbed three large buffaloes, which stood and looked at the strange white thing they had never seen before. A ball in the shoulder of one awoke them from their stupor, and they galloped away, closely pursued by the hunters. Suddenly three huge lions sprang on the back of the wounded buffalo and dragged him to the ground. The two Englishmen crept softly up till they were within thirty yards of the group, when they knelt down and fired from their single-barrelled rifles. One lion turned, seized a small bush between his teeth, and fell dead right on top of the buffalo; another bounded off as fast as he could, and the third took no notice whatever. This gave the men time to reload, and a ball passed straight through his shoulder blade. Then he thought he had better retire; but he had not gone very far before a bullet in his heart put an end to him.
Lions are fond of hunting in families, sometimes six or eight at once, and in any country where game is abundant lions may also be looked for. They will very rarely molest a full-grown animal, if they can get hold of a young one, and if a buffalo mother finds a lion trying to carry off her calf a fearful fight takes place, in which, if the lion is alone, he is pretty certain to get the worst of it. 'One toss from a buffalo bull,' says Livingstone, 'would kill the strongest lion that ever breathed.' Even a number of lions have been known to be kept at bay by an equal number of buffaloes, who put the little ones and mothers carefully in the rear, and stood with their horns steadily turned to the enemy.
But, as old Topsel says, 'There is no creature that loveth her young ones better than the lioness, for both shepherds and hunters, frequenting the mountains, do oftentimes see how irefully she fighteth in their defence, receiving the wounds of many darts, and the strokes of many stones, standing invincible, never yielding till death; yea, death itself were nothing to her, so that her young ones might never be taken out of her den. It is also reported, that the male will lead abroad the young ones, but it is not likely that the lion, which refuseth to accompany his female in hunting, will so much abase his noble spirit as to undergo the lioness' duty in leading abroad her young ones. In a mountain of Thracia,' he goes on to relate, 'there was a lioness which had whelps in her den, the which den was observed by a bear, the which bear on a day finding the den unfortified both by the absence of the lion and the lioness, entered into the same and slew the lion's whelps, afterward went away, and fearing a revenge, for her better security against the lion's rage, climbed up into a tree, and there sat as in a sure castle of defence. At length the lion and the lioness returned both home, and finding their little ones dead in their own blood, according to natural affection fell both exceeding sorrowful, to see them so slaughtered whom they both loved. But smelling out by the foot the murderer, followed with rage up and down until they came to the tree whereinto the bear was ascended, and seeing her, looked both of them gastly upon her, oftentimes assaying to get into the tree, but all in vain, for nature which adorned them with singular strength and nimbleness, yet had not endued them with power of climbing, so that the tree hindered their revenge, gave unto them further occasion of mourning, and unto the bear to rejoice at his own cruelty, and deride their sorrow.
'Then,' continues Topsel, who writes in very long sentences, 'the male forsook the female, leaving her to watch the tree, and he like a mournful father for the loss of his children, wandered up and down the mountain, making great moan and sorrow, till at the last he saw a carpenter hewing wood, who, seeing the lion coming towards him, let his axe fall for fear. But the lion came very lovingly towards him, fawning quietly upon his breast with his forefeet, and licking his face with his tongue; which gentleness of the lion the man perceiving, he was much astonished, and being more and more embraced and fawned on by the lion, he followed him, leaving his axe behind him which he had let fall, which the lion perceiving went back, and made signs with his foot to the carpenter that he should take it up. But the lion perceiving that the man did not understand his signs, he brought it himself in his mouth, and delivered it unto him, and so led him into the cave where the young whelps lay all imbrued in their own blood, and then led him where the lioness did watch the bear. She, therefore, seeing them both coming, as one that knew her husband's purpose, did signify unto the man that he should consider
THE WOODMAN AND THE LIONS GET THE BEST OF THE BEAR
of the miserable slaughter of her young whelps, and showing him by signs that he should look up into the tree where the bear was, which when the man saw, he conjectured that the bear had done some grievous injury unto them. He therefore took his axe, and hewed down the tree by the roots, which being so cut, the bear tumbled down headlong, which the two furious beasts seeing, they tore her all to pieces. And afterwards the lion conducted the man unto the place and work where he first met him, and there left him, without doing the least violence or harm unto him.'
Topsel, and the ancient authors from whom he quotes, who only knew lions by hearsay, had a much higher opinion of the tribe than Livingstone and modern travellers, who have made their personal acquaintance. He says nothing of their dread of man or ever-present dread of pitfalls! To Topsel, the lion is just a mass of noble qualities, and an example to all men in the matter of family affection. But, then, people often seem different, to those who know them best, from what they do to strangers!
'Neither do the old lions love their young ones in vain and without recompense,' he ends up, as the moral of the last story, 'for in their old age they requite it again; then do the young ones both defend them from the annoyance of enemies and also maintain and feed them by their own labour; for they take them forth to hunting, and when, as their decrepid and withered estate is not able to follow the game, the younger pursueth and taketh it for him; having obtained it, roareth mightily like the voice of some warning piece, to signify unto his elder that he should come on to dinner, and if he delay, he goeth to seek him where he left him, or else carry the prey unto him. At the sight thereof, in gratulation of natural kindness, and also for the joy of good success, the old one first licketh and kisseth the younger, and afterward enjoy the booty in common between them.'
It is not often that a dog which has been carried off by a lion comes back to tell the tale, yet that is what happened to Blucher when he went hunting in South Africa with Mr. Selous in the year 1882.[1]
One night his master was lying awake, reading, in his camp in Mashonaland, when he heard Blucher and the rest of the dogs set up a furious barking lower down the valley. Selous sat up and listened, and as the noise seemed always coming nearer, he called one of his men and asked him what was the matter.
'It must be a lion,' he said; 'Blucher would never retreat like that before a hyena'—for hyenas are great cowards and easily frightened.
As he spoke Selous jumped down from his bed on the waggon, and, followed by Norris, walked to the edge of the camp. It was pitch dark, and they could see nothing; but suddenly the barking ceased, and some large animals came tearing past, while the puppies dashed in for shelter between the men's legs, almost upsetting them. Then one of the natives rushed up from their camp a little further off, shouting 'Lion! lion! Lion has caught big dog.'
Selous felt very sorry for the loss of his old friend, but he took comfort in thinking he must have been killed in a moment, or some yelps of pain would have been heard.
However, the hunter armed himself with his rifle and went back with the native to his camp, where all the men were sitting up, talking softly round big fires. One or two declared they were sure some animal was creeping about in the dead leaves outside the camp; but as, after a search, nothing could be found, Selous got tired of standing about in the cold, and went back to his own waggon. He was just dropping off to sleep when the puppies again set up a furious yapping, and a Kaffir shouted out, 'Here's the lion, he has taken the skin,' for the skin of a freshly killed antelope, which had been hung up inside the camp, had disappeared altogether. The Kaffir boy, who had been sitting behind the fire, had seen the lion come straight through a hole in the fence close to the dogs, and quite near the horses, and pick up one of the three skins rolled up on the ground. The lion does not seem to have noticed (or smelt) the horses, or they him, which proves that there
THE LION IN THE CAMP
is no truth in the story that horses always scent lions from a great distance.
Notwithstanding all this excitement, Selous, who was very tired, returned, for the third time, to bed, and for a time all was pretty still. Then, again, there was heard the dash of the puppies from outside the camp, and one of the men observed that a lion must be about. On this Selous got up, and looking at the antelope skins discovered that another had been taken away. So he carried off the last remaining one and threw it for safety on the waggon where he himself slept. As the dawn was not now very far off, he lit a candle and took up his book.
Not an hour later he was aroused by a great rattling in the direction of a large packing case outside the camp, where some tools had been left lying. He sprang up, with Norris after him, and in the dim light he saw the white case being shoved about, though it was still too dark for him to make out the lion. However, Selous aimed straight at the case, and absolute quiet followed his shot; but only for a moment, then the case began to move more wildly than ever, till a second shot caused its dancing to cease.
Everybody felt by this time that they never wished to see a lion again, and dogs and men alike stretched themselves out wearily. But it was barely half an hour later when all the noises began afresh, and the waggon itself was shaken. The lion had positively returned to the charge, and not finding any more new antelope skins on the ground had been obliged to put up with an old one, which was hanging to dry on a platform between two poles. When he got on to that platform, which he probably did with a spring, he was within six feet of Norris and another boy.
Except for the sound of the lions crunching the leg bones of the antelopes (which had been left in the skins) in the open ground by the river, nothing further happened that night. With the first streaks of dawn Selous got up and peered about him; in the faint light he made out something which he took to be an ant-heap, but it turned out to be a lion, and nearer the river was the lioness and two or three little dots of cubs.
Thinking that they had gone to drink, and would soon be seen climbing up the steep bank which overhung the stream, Selous crept after them in order to get a better shot. But when he reached the place where they had disappeared no lions were there! In vain he sent for his horse and galloped backwards and forwards down one bank, while Norris did the same on the other. The lions had gone down the river under cover of the high bank, and had got safely away to the forest.
They were all, of course, determined not to spend such another night as the last, so they set a gun trap for stray visitors, and baited it with a large piece of meat. They had just finished their preparations when a cry was heard from one of the Kaffirs, and turning round Selous saw poor Blucher come slowly and painfully up by way of the river. He was covered all over with wounds, and. had four holes in the loose skin of his neck, where the lion had seized him. How he had escaped, or why he had waited so long before returning to camp, no one ever knew; but he wagged his tail feebly at the voice of his master. They did everything they could for him, and in time his wounds healed; but he never got really well, and only grew thinner and thinner till one morning he was found quite dead.
- ↑ Travel and Adventure in Africa. By F. C. Selous.