A HUNT ON THE ZAMBESI.
The accounts of all African travelers agree, that both vegetable and animal life in Africa is rankest and noblest on the banks of the Zambesi. Volumes might be written of thrilling adventures in this extensive region. “One night,” says a noted traveler, “while journeying up the Zambesi, and just as we had fixed our tents for a good night’s rest, a native came rushing in with the news that two lions had been seen in the vicinity. The men wanted to
go out and look for them immediately, but I dissuaded them from encountering the dangers of a night hunt, and promised that I would accompany them on the morrow.
HUNTING LIONS.
“Early next morning the men were astir and busy with their preparations for a grand hunt. We had dogs with us, and when all was ready, these were let loose. A guide led the way to where he had seen the lions on the previous evening, but long before we had gone so far, and while making our way up a ridge, a noise like muttering thunder reached our ears from the valley beyond the ridge. The guide stopped, listened for a moment, and then, half in fear and half in astonishment, gasped, “The lions!”
“He refused to pilot us further, but sought the nearest tree and took refuge amid its branches. The rest of the party pushed on, and on peering over the top of the ridge saw an immense lion lying in the edge of a jungle. Our dogs scented him and made a dash toward him. The beast arose with a bound, and rushed out into the open. This was too much for the dogs, and they beat a hasty retreat.
“In a moment more the lion was joined by his mate, and both were now in plain sight, both crouching and beating the ground with their tails, as if about to make an attack. I took a position a few steps in advance of our party, aimed deliberately from a kneeling posture, and sent a bullet into the side of the male lion just behind the foreleg. Being so close and so deliberate in my aim, and my weapon being of a superior kind, I expected to see the beast turn over in the agonies of death. But instead, he made two or three desperate bounds toward our party, and in his last leap, which was a dying spasm, fell directly on the body of Shumi, one of our native employes. The poor fellow was frightened almost to death, and shrieked as though the lion’s fangs and claws were actually rending his flesh. But in a moment we all saw that no harm was coming to Shumi, for the lion had simply made his last supreme effort, and had fallen in a quivering, helpless mass upon the object of his attack.
“We now turned our attention to the lioness. Two shots were fired at her, which sent her wounded and growling into the jungle. Our party formed a front, and marched cautiously toward the jungle, prepared to fire, at first sight of the game. Our precautions
proved to be unnecessary, for we soon discovered the beast too far advanced in her dying throes to be capable of harm to us. Both shots had taken effect in mortal parts. We secured, that day, two of the handsomest lion’s skins I ever saw.”