As the moon was now full, I determined to sit up, and having killed a zebra close to two small palms, I built a screen of palm-leaves and awaited events. The first two nights nothing came but mosquitoes, and the third night two hunting dogs turned up, but I didn't fire for fear of disturbing some lions which I could hear in the distance. These dogs are very beautiful animals with long bushy tails. They hunt in large packs, and must destroy an immense quantity of game. Shortly after the dogs had vanished a lion came to the jungle which was about four hundred yards away, and apparently detecting my scent, in spite of the competition of the zebra, which was three days old, vented his disapproval in three stupendous roars. This is one of the few occasions on which I heard a lion really roar, though every night for months I have heard packs of them in all directions. The usual cry is a sort of vast sigh taken up by the chorus with a deep sob, sob, sob, or a curious rumbling noise. The true roar is indescribable. It is so deceptive as to distance, and seems to permeate the whole universe, thundering, rumbling, majestic. There is no music in the world so sweet. Let me recommend it to the Wagner school! Thousands of German devotees, backed by thousands of beers, could never approach the soul-stirring glory of one Felis leo at home. I then heard him going away to the north, rumbling to himself at intervals, and at 5 a.m. left my scherm[#] and started in pursuit, hoping to come up with him at daybreak in the plain. I could still hear his occasional rumblings, and, taking a line by the moon, made terrific pace. After leaving the ridge, I plunged into a dense bank of fog that lay on the plain, but still managed to keep my line, as the moon showed a lurid red and remained visible till sunrise. The lion had stopped his meditations for some time, and imperceptibly the light of day had eaten into the fog, when suddenly my gun-boy "Rhoda" gripped me by the arm, his teeth chattering like castanets, and said that he saw the lion in front. At the same instant I thought that I saw a body moving in the mist about seventy yards away, now looking like an elephant, now like a jackal. Then the mist swirled round, wrapping it in obscurity once more. I followed carefully, when suddenly an eddy in the fog disclosed a male lion thirty yards away, wandering along as if the whole world belonged to him. He rolled his head from side to side, swished his tail, poked his nose into every bunch of grass, then stopped and stood broadside on. I raised the .500, but found that I had forgotten to remove the bunch of cloth which served for a night sight, and, before this was remedied, the chance was gone. Again I followed and again he turned, when I dropped him with a high shoulder shot. As the grass was only 3 in. high and the lion not more than thirty yards distant, we lay flat and awaited the turn of events. He lashed out, tearing up the ground with his paws, then stood up and looked like going away. I fired again. This gave him my whereabouts. He swung round and began stalking towards me to investigate matters, so I snatched my .500 and knocked him over with one in the chest. We then retired to a more respectful distance. But he rose again, and once more I fired. Still he fought on, rolling about, rumbling, groaning, and making frantic efforts to rise, till I crept up close and administered a .303 forward shot in the stomach, which settled him. He died reluctantly even then. It is astonishing how difficult lions are to kill, if the first shot is not very well placed. I attribute it to the fact that after the first shot there is practically no subsequent shock to the system. This is especially remarkable in the larger brutes, such as the elephant, rhino, or buffalo. If the first shot is misplaced, one can fire shot after shot, even through the heart, without immediate effect. He was a good lion, in the prime of life, with mane, teeth, and claws perfect.
[#] Fence or screen.
Sharp meanwhile had been making his first acquaintance with that ingenious device of the devil's, the jigger,[#] which confined him to the camp for a week with a very ugly foot.
[#] The jigger, the "pulex penetrans."
Mahony, who had gone down-river, saw a male lion, but failed to stop him with a long shot, but the next day in the same place came unexpectedly on two lionesses, both of which he wounded. As they took refuge in the grass, which was very extensive and thick, and he saw a cub, he sent into camp for another gun. Sharp turned out in spite of his foot, and I followed immediately when I returned to camp and found the note. After a hard spurt of six miles, I met them coming back in triumph with the pelt of one lioness and five small rolls of fur and ferocity slung on poles. The cubs had been captured with difficulty. One only succumbed after being bowled over with a sun helmet. They were great fun in camp, and throve amazingly on cooked liver, of which they devoured enormous quantities. Two of them were males, and three of them (one male and two females[#]) are now disporting themselves in the Society's Gardens in Regent's Park.
[#] One female has since died.
Hoping to see something of the other lioness or the lion I returned to the same place next day, and after examining the neighbourhood of the grass, pushed on still farther to the centre of the swamp. In this swamp the river spreads out into a vast network of channels, with a small central lagoon. Owing to the dryness of the season, it was possible to cross most of the channels, which were then merely mud-troughs, and to reach the lagoon, which was about four hundred yards wide. Here I witnessed a most extraordinary sight. About fifty hippo were lying about in the water, and on the banks. As the water was not in most parts deep enough to cover them, they presented the appearance of so many huge seals basking in the sun. They climbed in and out, strolled about, rolled in, splashing, shouting, blowing, and entirely ignoring my presence. After watching them for some time, I sent my boys to the far end to drive them past. The boys yelled and threw stones at them. Suddenly the hippo took alarm and rushed en masse for the narrow channel of the waterway. Down this they swarmed, kicking the water 30 ft. in the air, throwing their heads back, roaring, thundering, and crashing along, while I stood on the bank at twenty yards and took photographs, all of which unfortunately failed.
It was a gruesome Sight.
The banks of every channel and mud-hole were lined with huge yellow masses of crocodiles; thousands and thousands of wildfowl (mainly Egyptian and spur-wing geese), which were nesting in the hippo holes, kept up a ceaseless din; herds and herds of game appeared as though dancing in the mirage, and the whole scene was one to delight the heart of a lover of nature. There indeed one felt one was far from the madding crowd.
During the night we were awakened by the most terrific yells, and found that some crocodiles had gone into the boys' quarters. Fortunately they contented themselves with removing about two hundredweight of meat.
As the lions appeared to have left the country, we moved up the river to our original camp for a week to give the plain a rest, and bagged an eland. Sharp secured a good lioness in the lion donga.
On our return I shot a zebra for bait in the strip of bush. Turning out somewhat reluctantly at 5.30 a.m. with no hopes of success, as the lions had been very quiet all night, I was cutting the wind rather fine when I saw a number of birds sitting at a respectful distance from the carcase. Approaching cautiously, I saw some brute apparently pulling at something, but could not see clearly what it was, as it was still more or less dark. I knew it must be a lion from its bulk, yet dared not think so. I retraced my steps for the wind and crept up to within sixty yards under