The Lion's Daily Life
Now I shall tell you about the remaining habits of the lion, and how he lives every day.
Lion cubs at birth are usually twins or triplets. Sometimes four or even five cubs are born together; but then they are very difficult to rear, and one or two of them usually die. So a lioness has generally a family of two or three cubs to take care of. She brings them up in almost the same way that a tigress rears her cubs, as I have already described. The lioness feeds her cubs with her milk for about the first three months, and after that she gives them a little tender meat.
When the lion cubs are six months old, they are able to eat all kinds of meat and to follow their mother to hunt the prey. She teaches them the tricks of the jungle, just as the tigress teaches her cubs.
So, by the time the lion cubs are about a year old, they can kill the prey by themselves. Their mother just looks on, and criticizes their work! That is, she tells them if they have done their work well, or if they have done it badly! How does she tell them that? In this way:
If she is satisfied with their work, she does nothing in particular; she just joins the cubs in eating the prey after they have killed it. But if she is not satisfied with the way in which they have caught or killed the prey, she cuffs them with her paw!
Hunters have actually observed lionesses doing that! And of course the lion cubs practice their lessons more thoroughly the next time. In the jungle, the children of animals do not need to be punished more than once or twice!
You will notice that I have said nothing about the cubs' father, the lion. I am sorry to say that the lion is not usually so good a father as the tiger is. You will remember that the tiger helps his wife to provide food for the children, and also to teach them the tricks of the jungle. A lion seldom does that; he usually deserts his family, and lets them take care of themselves.
A lion that does stay with his family, after the cubs are born, has usually more than one wife. In that respect also the tiger is far finer than the lion. A tiger has only one wife; and he takes care of her and the cubs. But when a lion does stay with his family, the family usually consists of two or three lionesses, who are his wives, and their cubs.
In that case they hunt the prey in a pack; that is, the lion and the lionesses all hunt the prey together; and they are even helped by the older cubs. They need to hunt in a pack when the prey happens to be large, such as a buffalo or a giraffe. A lion by himself could seldom kill a buffalo or a giraffe.
Many a fight has been observed in the jungle between a lion and a buffalo—and almost every time the buffalo has succeeded in driving off the lion with its horns. Even if the lion managed to leap upon the buffalo from the back, he could not kill the buffalo by biting it on the neck because of the thick hair there.
And if the lion tried to stun the buffalo with a blow of his paw on the buffalo's head, the blow would not be enough, because of the thick hair which grows on the African buffalo's head. And meanwhile the buffalo would rear and buck, and throw off the lion. But if the lion has one or two lionesses to help him, they can all attack the buffalo at the same time, and pull it down and stun it with many blows.
On the other hand, as you will remember, in a fight between a single tiger and a single buffalo, the tiger always wins; he dodges the buffalo's horns, then seizes the buffalo by the throat from underneath. In that way he always kills the buffalo. It is only a herd of buffaloes that can beat a tiger, not just one buffalo.
A lion by himself is also unable to kill a giraffe in most cases; for if the giraffe sees the lion coming, it will kick out with its hind legs or its fore legs; and a kick from a giraffe has been known to disable a lion completely. So if a lion by himself wants to attack a giraffe, he must first stalk the giraffe stealthily, and then jump on it suddenly.
But as the lion cannot usually come near enough to do that, he generally attacks a giraffe with the help of one or two lionesses. For then they can all attack the giraffe from different sides; and as the giraffe cannot kick different ways at once, one of them is sure to jump upon the giraffe's back and bite it on the neck.
As I have just said, a lion cannot often stalk his prey near enough to leap upon it. There is a reason for that. Compared with his size, the lion's leap is the shortest of all members of the Cat Tribe. The farthest that a lion has been known to leap, even with a run, is about thirty feet—whereas a tiger has been seen to leap a distance of forty-eight feet!
The lion's body is not meant for leaping far. His chest and fore legs are very strong, but his hind legs are not quite so strong—and in leaping an animal uses its hind legs most. For instance, the kangaroo has the biggest leap of all four-legged animals of its size; and it has very large hind legs and very small fore legs.
"But if the lion cannot leap very far, how does he catch his prey at all?" you may ask.
I shall tell you. Like all other felines, he usually hunts at night. He hides near a pool or a stream, and waits for his prey to come to drink. Then he tries to approach the prey noiselessly on his padded feet. If he succeeds in creeping near enough to leap upon it, he certainly has his meal that night. But if he does not succeed in doing that, he tries another plan. He roars!
Giraffes
Kangaroo
And that is an advantage a lion has over all other animals. None of them can roar like him. Even a tiger's roar is not so loud, and so he seldom tries to roar. But very often a lion must roar to catch his prey, and so by constant practice he has made his roar very terrible indeed.
Yes, the lion really catches his prey by roaring. When the animals are drinking at the pool, the lion puts his mouth to the ground and roars. It sounds just like thunder.
When you hear a roll of thunder, it sometimes happens that you cannot tell from which direction the thunder is coming. In the same way, when the animals hear the lion's roar, they cannot always tell from which side the roar is coming, because by putting his mouth to the ground the lion sends the roar in all directions. So in their terror some of the animals run the wrong way, and actually run toward the lion. Then the lion finds it easy to leap upon at least one of them.
The lion seldom hunts in the daytime. But when he does, he uses a different method. He chooses a pool amid sandy or stony ground. Then he half buries himself in the sand, or lies low among the stones and boulders. So if any animal comes to drink from the pool, it does not notice the lion because the lion's tawny color makes him look like the sand or stones. Then the lion leaps upon the animal and catches it.
After having his meal, the lion drinks from the pool. If the prey is rather large, so that he cannot finish it at one meal, he keeps it for the next day's meal. He drags the animal's body to some hiding place and covers it up with sand or leaves. Of course, he stays somewhere near that place, as otherwise the thieves of the jungle would eat up the food. The thieves of the jungle are the jackal and the hyena.
But as the lion usually hunts his prey in the night, he generally sleeps in the daytime. He is not really dangerous except at night. If a man meets a lion suddenly in the daytime, the lion will not usually attack him, unless very hungry. Many a man who has met a lion in the jungle by day has escaped in safety by just standing still, making no sound and no motion. After a glance at the man, the lion has walked off.
Most wild animals are afraid of man. Perhaps that is because they do not quite understand him, or how he can hurt them from a distance —by shooting them with a gun or even with an arrow. That is why most wild animals try to avoid man, unless they are wounded or are very hungry.
But I must tell you here that a tiger attacks a man much more readily than a lion does. Even in the daytime a tiger will usually attack any man he meets—like the fisherman that the tiger carried off from the river, as told on page [110].
At night, however, all animals of the Cat Tribe are dangerous, and many a night a lion has been known to creep into an encampment and carry off a sleeping man. That is, the lion first killed the man, then dragged him away.
In that respect a lion is different from a tiger. A lion usually takes away his prey by dragging it; he grips his victim in his jaws by an arm, or by the shoulder, or by the neck, so that the victim trails along the ground.
A lion once seized a sleeping man by the wrist, and dragged him away. The lion thought that he had killed the man. But the man was still alive. He got up on his feet as he was being dragged away. He walked by the side of the lion for a few yards; meanwhile he drew his revolver from his pocket with the other hand, and then shot the lion through the head, killing him instantly.
A lion seldom carries his prey bodily as a cat carries a mouse. A tiger always does that, if the prey is light, like a man; and a heavier prey he actually carries over his shoulder—as I have said on page [103].
From all the facts I have told you so far, you will understand that a tiger is stronger than a lion. It has been reckoned that the strength of a lion is equal to that of five men, but a tiger's strength is equal to that of eight men. How that was calculated I shall tell you in another book.
A tiger is also much more ferocious and terrible an animal than a lion. The lion can be hunted on horseback; the tiger must never be hunted in this way. A hunter riding a horse has often come to within a hundred yards of a lion, and has killed the lion with one or two shots from his gun—and the horse has stood quite still while he took aim.
But a horse will never face a tiger or stand still before a tiger. The horse will be in a panic at the very sight of a tiger—and will flee in terror. Even if a band of horsemen meet a tiger, all the horses will stampede in terror. It needs an elephant—a trained elephant—to face a tiger, as I have already described to you. And usually it needs several elephants to hunt a tiger.
The tiger has also many more of the catlike qualities than the lion has. The tiger is more active than the lion, can leap farther, and can make up his mind more quickly. Above all, like a cat, the tiger has "nine lives." Many a time a hunter has killed a lion with a single shot. But usually it needs half a dozen shots even to disable a tiger.
If a lion is mortally wounded through the heart or through the head, he usually drops to the ground at once. But if a tiger were mortally wounded in the same manner, he would at least leap toward the hunter, and try to kill his slayer, before he himself agreed to drop down and die.
The lion has sometimes been called the King of the Jungle—I suppose because in those countries where he lives there are no tigers. So the lion is the "monarch of all he surveys" in his own jungle. Of course, the lion looks grander and more imposing because he has a mane, and the tiger has none. Perhaps that is the reason why some people have given the lion that title.
The lion has also been called a noble animal, but accounts differ as to his real character. Sometimes a lion has behaved very splendidly, as in the two stories I shall tell you presently. But, on the other hand, there have been occasions when a lion has behaved like a coward and a sneak, as people have declared. So I suppose that lions are like other creatures: there are good lions, and there are bad lions.
In one respect, however, the lion is much finer than the tiger: the lion can be tamed, but the tiger cannot. At least, we can say for certain that many a lion has been known to become quite tame, but never a tiger.
There was an actual case where a tiger was caught as a small cub and brought up on milk, and then on clean meat without any blood on it. The tiger grew up, and was thought to be quite tame. Then one day, as he was licking his master's hand, his rough tongue drew blood from the hand—and in a moment, at the sight of the blood, the tiger became a ferocious wild animal.
Luckily, a faithful servant crept from behind with a gun, and suddenly shot the tiger through the head. The master leaped out of the room at once, before the tiger could reach him in his dying struggles.
But as for the lion, not only can he be tamed, but even a wild lion has been known to behave as if quite tame, when moved by his love. I shall now tell you two stories about that.
CHAPTER XII
The Lion a Noble Animal
Androcles and the Lion
Many, many years ago, the Romans ruled a large part of the world; for they were a great nation. Their territories included the north of Africa. A rich Roman, who lived there, had many slaves. One of his slaves was called Androcles (An´ drō clēz). The Roman treated Androcles very cruelly. So Androcles ran away from him.
But the Roman sent out many soldiers to capture Androcles. So after hiding in many places, Androcles was at last compelled to flee into wild regions, where there were few inhabitants. As the soldiers followed him even there, he had to go still farther into the interior of the country, till he came to the jungle. There he lived by eating fruits.
One day, toward evening, he was sitting on the ground, when suddenly he saw a lion before him. Poor Androcles gave himself up for lost, as he had no weapon with him with which even to try to fight the lion. He knew it was useless to try to run away, as the lion could catch him with a couple of bounds. So he thought that his only chance was to sit quite still, for then the lion might go away.
But the lion looked at him, and then came toward him. The animal did not rush toward him or leap. Instead, the lion just walked toward Androcles.
That was strange, Androcles thought. The lion came nearer and nearer—and then Androcles noticed that the lion walked in a peculiar manner. That puzzled Androcles. But he sat quite still, hoping that the lion would yet go away.
But instead the lion came right up to him. Now he would be eaten up, poor Androcles thought.
Then a wonderful thing happened. Instead of eating him, the lion held out a paw toward him. Then Androcles understood.
He looked at the lion's paw closely. He saw that the paw was swollen. Yes, that is why the lion had been limping.
Androcles took the paw in his hands and examined it. On the under side he found a large thorn embedded deep in the flesh. It must have been there for several days, and must have caused the lion intense pain.
Androcles pulled out the thorn carefully; then he squeezed down the swelling. That relieved the lion's pain.
Immediately the lion showed his gratitude. He wagged his tail, fawned on Androcles, and gambolled around him playfully like a dog. He could not do more to show his feelings.
After a time the lion went away to the jungle.
A year passed. Androcles still lived in hiding. Then at last he was captured by the soldiers, and brought before the judge.
It used to be the law in those days to condemn runaway slaves to death. Also, it used to be the custom to put to death Christians and condemned slaves by casting them to lions.
So one afternoon all the Romans in that place were gathered to make a holiday. It was a kind of circus they had come to see, only, instead of having the usual clever tricks which you now see in a circus, the Romans had fights between men and men, between men and animals—and finally, as a grand finish, the Christians and the condemned slaves were thrown to wild lions. Many of the lions had recently been captured from the jungle; so they were quite wild. And as they had been kept without food for two or three days on purpose, they were very ferocious and quite eager to eat the Christians and the condemned slaves.
When it came Androcles' turn to be eaten, he was thrown into the enclosure, which was called an arena. Then a wild lion, which had been recently caught from the jungle, was let loose into the arena from a cage.
Ten thousand Romans looked on to see Androcles die. And Androcles looked up to the Romans, and found no mercy in them. He looked at the famished and furious lion—and knew that he must die.
For the lion crouched ten yards before him, lashing his tail in fury. The lion gave a bound, and came within five yards of Androcles. There the lion crouched again for a moment—then made a rush at Androcles. Everyone thought that now the lion would kill Androcles.
But a still more wonderful thing happened. Instead of killing Androcles, the lion gambolled around him, and fawned on him—as if he were glad to meet again an old friend.
Then Androcles understood. He had forgotten all about the lion he had met in the jungle the year before, whose pain he had relieved. But the lion had not forgotten him.
Who says that animals have no memory? This lion had a memory! He carried in his memory the gratitude of his heart for the pain that Androcles had relieved. Although Androcles was now dressed differently—in fact, most of his clothes had been stripped from him—the moment the lion had drawn near enough to him, he had recognized Androcles as his old friend and benefactor of the jungle.
Famished as he was, and furious at being kept without food, the lion would gladly suffer the pangs of hunger rather than injure a hair of his friend's head. Instead, the lion fawned on him, then lay down before him like a lamb.
Then something melted in the cruel Romans' hearts; perhaps they realized that there was some Great Power beyond them, who had inspired a raging beast of the jungle to be as gentle as a lamb.
The Romans asked Androcles to explain this marvel. He told the story of his adventure with that lion in the jungle—just as I have told it to you.
Androcles and the Lion
Then Androcles was pardoned, and given his freedom, in memory of this great wonder.
My dear children, this story has a special meaning for us. We are told that if we cast our bread upon the waters, it shall be returned to us. That means that if we do an act of kindness, we shall have our reward. Androcles did an act of kindness to the lion in the jungle. In return Androcles was given back his life in the arena.
The Lady and the Lioness
I shall close this chapter by telling you another true story. It happened quite recently, in America. In a zoo there was a lioness. She had two little cubs. She was very fond of them, and she used to lick them with her tongue many times every day to keep them clean. They used to trot around her and scramble over her, then lie down beside her, one on each side, to have another cleaning with her tongue.
One day the lioness and her two cubs were lying like that quite close to the bars of the cage. One of the visitors there happened to be a man who had an umbrella. Very foolishly he poked one of the cubs with the umbrella. He did not mean to hurt the cub; I suppose he only wanted to feel it. But still it was very foolish to poke the cub with the umbrella.
In an instant the lioness jumped up with an angry roar, and thrust out her paw between the bars. Luckily for the man, she could not quite reach his arm; otherwise she would have dragged him to the bars of the cage and killed him instantly. Instead, she could only reach the umbrella. So she seized the umbrella, and wreaked her vengeance on it. She smashed it to a thousand bits. The man, of course, ran away.
Then gradually the lioness quieted down. She lay down as before in front of the bars, with the cubs beside her, one on each side. Now and again she gave them an affectionate lick with her tongue, first one, then the other. That helped to sooth her feelings somewhat. Still, as you may well understand, she was bitter at heart at the foolishness of some people.
Now it so happened that a lady had observed the whole incident. She had been standing all the time in front of the cage, a few yards away. And this lady had two little girls with her, one four years old, and the other six years old.
You may be sure that the lioness saw the lady and the two little children. After a time the lady came a little nearer to the cage, the two little girls standing beside her, one on each side. The lady tried to catch the lioness's eye. Presently their eyes met. While the lioness was still looking at her, the lady patted her two little girls on the cheek.
Then the lady came a step nearer the cage. As the lioness licked her cubs, the lady patted her own little children; and she smoothed their cheeks and hair.
The lioness saw that.
The lady was just waiting for that. She came still nearer to the cage. Each time the lioness licked her cubs, the lady stroked the cheeks of her own children affectionately.
Then the lady began to speak. She spoke in a very soft voice, very gently and very slowly. She spoke softly as if she meant only the lioness to hear her. This is what she said:
"I at least understand you. I too am a mother, like you. See, these are my two children! I love them as you love yours."
Then the lady took up the children, one on each arm. She kissed the children, first one, and then the other—and the kiss seemed almost like the act of the lioness in licking the faces of her own cubs. By that the lady meant the lioness to understand that the children were just the same to her as the cubs were to the lioness.
Then the lady spoke again, as softly and tenderly as before:
"My children also love your children. Wouldn't it be nice if they could play together!"
Then the lady held the smaller girl in front of her. Very timidly the little girl held out her hand—while her mother looked into the lioness's eyes.
Well, my dear children, I cannot tell how it happened. Perhaps some message of love and sympathy and understanding passed between the two mothers—the mother of the two little girls, and the mother of the two little cubs. At any rate, this is what actually happened:
Very timidly and very slowly the lady stepped to the cage. The little girl put her hand between the bars, and petted the cub nearest to her. The lady moved a little, and the girl petted the other cub. The lioness looked on all the time.
Then something still more wonderful happened. As the little girl was petting the cub, the lioness also began to lick the cub; then the lioness's tongue passed over the cub's body and came to the child's hand—and the lioness began to lick the child's hand as if the child were her own.
Remember that this was a wild lioness, and untamed. Nobody had ever dared before even to come within her reach.
Then the lady turned a little, and brought the other girl to the bars of the cage—and she too petted the cubs. Lastly, the lady put the girls down, and passed her own hand through the bars. She too petted the cubs, then finally she stroked the lioness herself.
And that was like a kind of handshake as a good-bye. They parted friends—like two mothers who had met by chance on the roadside, and each had admired the children of the other.