Still I Never Gave
Up Hope Of Some Day Finding Their Lair, And
Accordingly Continued To Devote All My Spare
Time
to crawling about through the undergrowth.
Many a time when attempting to force my way
through this bewildering tangle
I had to be
released by my gun-bearer from the fast clutches
of the "wait-a-bit"; and often with immense
pains I succeeded in tracing the lions to the river
after they had seized a victim, only to lose the
trail from there onwards, owing to the rocky
nature of the ground which they seemed to be
careful to choose in retreating to their den.
At this early stage of the struggle, I am glad
to say, the lions were not always successful in
their efforts to capture a human being for their
nightly meal, and one or two amusing incidents
occurred to relieve the tension from which our
nerves were beginning to suffer. On one occasion
an enterprising bunniah (Indian trader) was riding
along on his donkey late one night, when suddenly
a lion sprang out on him knocking over both
man and beast. The donkey was badly wounded,
and the lion was just about to seize the trader,
when in some way or other his claws became
entangled in a rope by which two empty oil tins
were strung across the donkey's neck. The rattle
and clatter made by these as he dragged them
after him gave him such a fright that he turned tail
and bolted off into the jungle, to the intense relief
of the terrified bunniah, who quickly made his
way up the nearest tree and remained there,
shivering with fear, for the rest of the night.
Shortly after this episode, a Greek contractor
named Themistocles Pappadimitrini had an equally
marvellous escape. He was sleeping peacefully
in his tent one night, when a lion broke in, and
seized and made off with the mattress on which
he was lying. Though, rudely awakened, the
Greek was quite unhurt and suffered from nothing
worse than a bad fright. This same man, however,
met with a melancholy fate not long afterwards.
He had been to the Kilima N'jaro district to buy
cattle, and on the return journey attempted to
take a short cut across country to the railway,
but perished miserably of thirst on the way.
On another occasion fourteen coolies who slept
together in a large tent were one night awakened
by a lion suddenly jumping on to the tent and
breaking through it. The brute landed with one
claw on a coolie's shoulder, which was badly
torn; but instead of seizing the man himself, in
his hurry he grabbed a large bag of rice which
happened to be lying in the tent, and made off
with it, dropping it in disgust some little distance
away when he realised his mistake.
These, however, were only the earlier efforts
of the man-eaters. Later on, as will be seen,
nothing flurried or frightened them in the least,
and except as food they showed a complete
contempt for human beings. Having once marked
down a victim, they would allow nothing to deter
them from securing him, whether he were protected
by a thick fence, or inside a closed tent, or sitting
round a brightly burning fire. Shots, shouting
and firebrands they alike held in derision.
CHAPTER III
THE ATTACK ON THE GOODS-WAGON
All this time my own tent was pitched in
an open clearing, unprotected by a fence of any
kind round it. One night when the medical
officer; Dr. Rose, was staying with me, we were
awakened about midnight by hearing something
tumbling about among the tent ropes, but on going
out with a lantern we could discover nothing.
Daylight, however, plainly revealed the "pug"
marks of a lion, so that on that occasion I fancy
one or other of us had a narrow escape. Warned
by this experience, I at once arranged to move
my quarters, and went to join forces with Dr.
Brock, who had just arrived at Tsavo to take
medical charge of the district. We shared a
hut of palm leaves and boughs, which we had
constructed on the eastern side of the river, close
to the old caravan route leading to Uganda; and
we had it surrounded by a circular boma, or thorn
fence, about seventy yards in diameter, well made
and thick and high. Our personal servants also
lived within the enclosure, and a bright fire was
always kept up throughout the night. For the
sake of coolness, Brock and I used to sit out under
the verandah of this hut in the evenings; but it
was rather trying to our nerves to attempt to
read or write there, as we never knew when a lion
might spring over the boma, and be on us before
we were aware. We therefore kept our rifles
within easy reach, and cast many an anxious
glance out into the inky darkness beyond the
circle of the firelight. On one or two occasions,
we found in the morning that the lions had come
quite close to the fence; but fortunately they
never succeeded in getting through.
By this time, too, the camps of the workmen
had also been surrounded by thorn fences;
nevertheless the lions managed to jump over or to
break through some one or other of these, and
regularly every few nights a man was carried
off, the reports of the disappearance of this or
that workman coming in to me with painful
frequency. So long, however, as Railhead
Camp - with its two or three thousand men,
scattered over a wide area - remained at Tsavo,
the coolies appeared not to take much notice
of the dreadful deaths of their comrades. Each
man felt, I suppose, that as the man-eaters had
such a large number of victims to choose from,
the chances of their selecting him in particular
were very small. But when the large camp moved
ahead with the railway, matters altered
considerably.
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