Every Man In Camp
Turned Out, And With Tom-Toms Beating And Horns
Blowing Came Running To The Scene.
They
surrounded my eyrie, and to my amazement
prostrated themselves on the ground before me,
saluting me with cries of "Mabarak!
Mabarak!"
which I believe means "blessed one" or "saviour."
All the same, I refused to allow any search to be
made that night for the body of the lion, in case
his companion might be close by; besides, it was
possible that he might be still alive, and capable
of making a last spring. Accordingly we all
returned in triumph to the camp, where great
rejoicings were kept up for the remainder of
the night, the Swahili and other African natives
celebrating the occasion by an especially wild
and savage dance.
For my part, I anxiously awaited the dawn;
and even before it was thoroughly light I was
on my way to the eventful spot, as I could not
completely persuade myself that even yet the
"devil" might not have eluded me in some
uncanny and mysterious way. Happily my fears
proved groundless, and I was relieved to find
that my luck - after playing me so many
exasperating tricks - had really turned at last.
I had scarcely traced the blood for more than
a few paces when, on rounding a bush, I was
startled to see a huge lion right in front of me,
seemingly alive and crouching for a spring.
On looking closer, however, I satisfied myself
that he was really and truly stone-dead,
whereupon my followers crowded round, laughed and
danced and shouted with joy like children, and
bore me in triumph shoulder-high round the
dead body. These thanksgiving ceremonies being
over, I examined the body and found that two
bullets had taken effect - one close behind the left
shoulder, evidently penetrating the heart, and the
other in the off hind leg. The prize was indeed
one to be proud of; his length from tip of
nose to tip of tail was nine feet eight inches,
he stood three feet nine inches high, and it took
eight men to carry him back to camp. The only
blemish was that the skin was much scored by the
boma thorns through which he had so often forced
his way in carrying off his victims.
The news of the death of one of the notorious
man-eaters soon spread far and wide over the
country: telegrams of congratulation came pouring
in, and scores of people flocked from up and down
the railway to see the skin for themselves.
CHAPTER IX
THE DEATH OF THE SECOND MAN-EATER
It must not be imagined that with the death
of this lion our troubles at Tsavo were at an end;
his companion was still at large, and very soon
began to make us unpleasantly aware of the fact.
Only a few nights elapsed before he made an
attempt to get at the Permanent Way Inspector,
climbing up the steps of his bungalow and prowling
round the verandah. The Inspector, hearing
the noise and thinking it was a drunken coolie,
shouted angrily "Go away!" but, fortunately
for him, did not attempt to come out or to
open the door. Thus disappointed in his attempt
to obtain a meal of human flesh, the lion
seized a couple of the Inspector's goats and
devoured them there and then.
On hearing of this occurrence, I determined
to sit up the next night near the Inspector's
bungalow. Fortunately there was a vacant iron
shanty close at hand, with a convenient loophole
in it for firing from; and outside this I placed
three full-grown goats as bait, tying them to a
half-length of rail, weighing about 250 lbs. The
night passed uneventfully until just before daybreak,
when at last the lion turned up, pounced
on one of the goats and made off with it, at
the same time dragging away the others, rail
and all. I fired several shots in his direction,
but it was pitch dark and quite impossible to
see anything, so I only succeeded in hitting one
of the goats. I often longed for a flash-light on
such occasions.
Next morning I started off in pursuit and was
joined by some others from the camp. I found
that the trail of the goats and rail was easily
followed, and we soon came up, about a quarter
of a mile away, to where the lion was still busy
at his meal. He was concealed in some thick
bush and growled angrily on hearing our approach;
finally, as we got closer, he suddenly made a
charge, rushing through the bushes at a great
pace. In an instant, every man of the party
scrambled hastily up the nearest tree, with the
exception of one of my assistants, Mr. Winkler,
who stood steadily by me throughout. The
brute, however, did not press his charge home:
and on throwing stones into the bushes where
we had last seen him, we guessed by the silence
that he had slunk off. We therefore advanced
cautiously, and on getting up to the place
discovered that he had indeed escaped us, leaving
two off the goats scarcely touched.
Thinking that in all probability the lion would
return as usual to finish his meal, I had a very
strong scaffolding put up a few feet away from
the dead goats, and took up my position on it
before dark. On this occasion I brought my
gun-bearer, Mahina, to take a turn at watching,
as I was by this time worn out for want of sleep,
having spent so many nights on the look-out. I
was just dozing off comfortably when suddenly I
felt my arm seized, and on looking up saw
Mahina pointing in the direction of the goats.
"Sher!" ("Lion!") was all he whispered. I
grasped my double smooth-bore, which, I had
charged with slug, and waited patiently. In a
few moments I was rewarded, for as I watched
the spot where I expected the lion to appear,
there was a rustling among the bushes and I saw
him stealthily emerge into the open and pass
almost directly beneath us.
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