Fearing
That Some Accident Had Happened, I Went Quickly
To Meet Them And Called Out To Ask What They
Were Carrying.
They shouted back "Bwana"
("The master"); and when I asked what bwana,
they replied "Bwana O'Hara." On enquiring
what exactly had happened, they told me that
during the night their master had been killed by
a lion, and that his wife and children were
following behind, along the road.
At this I
directed the men to the hospital and told them
where to find Dr. Rose, and without waiting to
hear any further particulars hurried on as fast
as possible to give what assistance I could to
poor Mrs. O'Hara. Some considerable way back
I met her toiling along with an infant in her
arms, while a little child held on to her skirt,
utterly tired out with the long walk. I helped
her to finish the distance to the doctor's tent;
she was so unstrung by her terrible night's
experience and so exhausted by her trying march
carrying the baby that she was scarcely able
to speak. Dr. Rose at once did all he could
both for her and for the children, the mother
being given a sleeping draught and made
comfortable in one of the tents. When she
appeared again late in the afternoon she was
much refreshed, and was able to tell us the
following dreadful story, which I shall give as
nearly as possible in her own words.
"We were all asleep in the tent, my husband
and I in one bed and my two children in another.
The baby was feverish and restless, so I got
up to give her something to drink; and as
I was doing so, I heard what I thought was
a lion walking round the tent.
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