Then he dropped his gun and tried to run away; but the rheumatism was so dreadful that he couldn’t move, and still the lion crept nearer and nearer. He gave himself up for lost, and thought he should never see anybody again, when the animal, who was evidently in pain, limped into the tent.
He thought it would jump on him and eat him, but instead of that it only sat down on its haunches by his side in the tent and groaned, and held up one of its paws.
All of a sudden, he having a lot of experience with dogs, guessed that the lion was suffering from rheumatism, and so he thought he would try an experiment. He got out his bottle of liniment, and took the lion’s leg and rubbed the liniment well into it, the lion sitting quite still all the time, only holding its head on one side, as the liniment was very strong, and it got up its nose and made its eyes water.
After he had rubbed it well the lion seemed to be better, and wagged its tail, and would have licked his hand, he said, only he didn’t like the liniment that was on it. And presently it got up and went away, walking much easier than before.
Mr. Saxon said the relief to his feelings was so great that he felt quite exhausted, and fell asleep, and when he woke up, to his horror he saw three lions in his tent—it was the lion he had rubbed, who had brought his wife, the lioness, and his eldest son, a very fine young lion, and it was evident that he had brought them to be rubbed with the liniment, as they held out their legs towards him.
Mr. Saxon said that evidently all the family had slept in a damp place and got rheumatic. He rubbed the lioness and the young lion till all his liniment was gone, and then they went away.
When the Arabs came back in the evening they said they had had no sport, as they found the lions gone from their lair. “Yes,” said Mr. Saxon, “they have been here.” At first the Arabs would not believe him, but he showed them the footsteps of the lions, and then they did, and said it was very wonderful.
They had to camp in the same place that night, as Mr. Saxon was not well enough to go on. The next morning when they got up it was found that they were short of provisions, and they were wondering what they would do, when one of the Arabs said, “Oh, look there; there is a lion coming. Let us shoot him!” “No,” said Mr. Saxon, “perhaps it is one of my friends.” And so it was—it was the old lion, and he had a very fine sheep in his mouth. He marched into the tent, laid the sheep at Mr. Saxon’s feet, and then, nodding his head to the Arabs, turned round and walked away again.
He had brought Mr. Saxon a present of a sheep, to show his gratitude for being eased of the rheumatism with the liniment.
Mr. Saxon said it was one of the most wonderful instances of gratitude in a wild beast that had ever been known, and we all thought so too.