Chapter LIX: Lion Hunting

The lion has been called the king of beasts, and his majestic form, noble bearing, stately tread, piercing eye, and dreadful roar not only strike terror to the heart of the other animals, but combine to mark him, as it were, with the stamp of royalty.

He is all nerve and muscle, while his enormous strength is shown in the tremendous bound he makes in rushing upon his prey, and in the rapid lashing of his tail. One stroke from his tail is sufficient to fell a man to the ground.

The expressive wrinkling of his brows is a strong characteristic of the lion. Judging from his appearance, man has endowed him with qualities he does not possess. Modern travelers, far from describing him as a noble beast, deem him a mean-spirited robber, prowling about under the secrecy of night to surprise animals weaker than himself.

The chief food of the lion consists of the flesh of the larger herbivorous animals. There are very few animals he is unable to master. The swift-footed antelope has no foe to be so much dreaded as the lion. Concealing himself in the high rushes which line the river's bank, he lies in ambush for the timid herd, till they approach the water at nightfall to quench their thirst. Slowly, cautiously, the beautiful antelopes approach. They listen with ears erect, straining their eyes to pierce the gloom of the thicket. Nothing suspicious nor alarming appears, and the beautiful creatures move along the bank.

They quaff long, deep draughts of the delicious water, without thought of danger. Suddenly, with a mighty spring, as lightning bursts from the cloud, the wary lion bounds upon the unsuspecting herd, and in a twinkling the leader lies prostrate at the mercy of his foe, while his frightened companions fly blindly into the desert.

Andersson witnessed the very uncommon sight of a lion seizing his prey in broad daylight. He had had an encounter late one evening with a lion, and had badly wounded him. The following morning he set out with some of his men to follow the tracks of the wounded animal.

"Presently," he writes, "we came upon the trail of a whole troop of lions, as also that of a solitary giraffe. So many tracks confused us, and while endeavoring to pick out from the rest those of the wounded lion, I observed my native attendants suddenly rush forward, and the next instant the jungle re-echoed with the shouts of triumph.

"Thinking they had discovered the lion we were in pursuit of, I also hurried forward; but imagine my surprise when, emerging into an opening in the jungle, I saw, not a dead lion, as I expected, but five living lions,--two males and three females,--two of which were in the act of pulling down a splendid giraffe, the other three watching close at hand, and with devouring looks, the deadly strife.

"The scene was of so imposing a nature that for the moment I forgot I carried a gun. The natives, however, in anticipation of a glorious gorge, dashed madly forward, and with the most piercing shrieks and yells compelled the lions to a hasty retreat. When I reached the giraffe, now stretched at full length on the sand, it made a few ineffectual efforts to raise its head, its body heaved and quivered for a moment, and the next instant the poor animal was dead.

"It had received several deep gashes about the flanks and chest, caused by the claws and teeth of its fierce assailants. The strong and tough muscles of the neck were also bitten through. All thought of pursuing the wounded lion was now out of the question. The natives remained gorging on the carcass of the giraffe until it was devoured. A day or two afterward, however, I had the good fortune to fall in with my royal antagonist, and finished him without difficulty."

THE LION'S RIDE.

The lion is the desert's king; through his domain so wide
Right swiftly and right royally this night he means to ride.
By the sedgy brink, where the wild herds drink, close couches
the grim old chief;
The trembling sycamore above whispers with every leaf.

At evening on the Table Mount, when ye can see no more
The changeful play of signals gay; when the gloom is speckled o'er
With kraal fires; when the Caffre wends home through the lone karroo;
When the boshbok in the thicket sleeps, and by the stream the gnu;

Then bend your gaze across the waste; what see ye! The giraffe,
Majestic, stalks towards the lagoon, the turbid lymph to quaff;
With outstretched neck and tongue, adust he kneels him down to cool
His hot thirst with a welcome draught from the foul and brackish pool.

A rustling sound, a roar, a bound,--the lion sits astride
Upon his giant courser's back. Did ever king so ride?
Had ever king a steed so rare, caparisons of state
To match the dappled skin whereon that rider sits elate?

In the muscles of the neck his teeth are plunged with ravenous greed;
His tawny mane is tossing round the withers of the steed
Up leaping with a hollow yell of anguish and surprise,
Away, away, in wild dismay, the camel-leopard flies.

His feet have wings; see how he springs across the moonlit plain!
As from the sockets they would burst, his glaring eyeballs strain;
In thick black streams of purling blood, full fast his life is
fleeting;
The stillness of the desert hears his heart's tumultuous beating.

Like the cloud that, through the wilderness, the path of Israel
traced,--
Like an airy phantom, dull and worn, a spirit of the waste,--
From the sandy sea uprising, as the waterspout from ocean,
A whirling cloud of dust keeps pace with the courser's fiery motion.

Croaking companion of their flight, the vulture whirs on high;
Below, the terror of the fold, the panther fierce and sly,
And hyenas foul, round graves that prowl, join in the horrid race;
By the footprints wet with gore and sweat, their monarch's course
they trace.

They see him on his living throne, and quake with fear the while;
With claws of steel he tears piecemeal his cushion's painted pile.
On! on! no pause, no rest, giraffe, while life and strength remain!
The steed by such a rider backed may madly plunge in vain.

Reeling upon the desert's verge, he falls, and breathes his last;
The courser, stained with dust and foam, is the rider's full repast.
O'er Madagascar, eastward far, a faint flush is descried;--
Thus nightly, o'er his broad domain, the king of beasts doth ride.

--_From the German._

The lion is said to have a special liking for the flesh of the Hottentots, and with great obstinacy will follow one of these unfortunate savages.

It commits so much devastation among the herds of antelopes that roam over the plains that hunters in North and South Africa pursue him and kill him wherever he appears.

Dr. Livingstone states that the Bushmen take advantage of the torpidity of the lion after a full meal to surprise him in his slumbers. Their mode of attack differs widely from that of the fierce Arabs of North Africa. While one native discharges a poisoned arrow from a distance, his companion dexterously throws his skin coat over the animal's head. In its surprise and amazement the lion loses its presence of mind and bounds away in a panic, terrified and confused.

The poison used in the arrows of the Bushmen is obtained from a caterpillar about half an inch long. It is a very active poison, causing intense agony to any one wounded by one of these arrows. The effect on the lion is equally distressing. He can be heard moaning in distress, and finally becomes furious, biting the trees and ground in his rage and torment.

The African lion differs somewhat from the Asiatic. The latter has a more compressed form and a shorter mane; sometimes the mane is entirely wanting. Its tail, however, has a much larger tuft of hair at the end.

Africa may be said to be the chief home of the lion. It is the part of the world where his peculiar strength and beauty appear in all their perfection.