From Pole to Pole: A Book for Young People

by Sven Anders Hedin

No wonder that the poor workmen, wearied and worn by sleeplessness, excitement, and fear of death, decided that this state of affairs must come to an end. They struck. They said that they had come to Africa to work at the railway, and not to supply food for lions. One fine day they took a train by storm, put all their belongings into the carriages, took their seats themselves, and went off to the coast. The courageous men who remained with the Colonel passed the night in trees, in the station water-tank, or in covered holes digged down within their tents.

On one occasion the Colonel had invited a friend to come up to Tsavo and help him against the lions. The train was late, and it was dark when the guest followed the path through the wood to the camp. He had a servant with him, who carried a lantern. Half-way a lion rushed down on them from a rise, tore four deep gashes in the Englishman's back, and would have carried him off if he had not fired his carbine. Dazed with the report, the lion loosed his hold and pounced on the servant. Next moment he had vanished in the darkness with his prey.

A few days later a Suaheli came and said that the lion had seized an ass, and was engaged in his meal not far away. Guided by the Suaheli, the Colonel hastened up and could see from a distance the back of the lion above the bushes. Unfortunately the guide stepped on a twig, and the lion immediately vanished into impenetrable brushwood. Then the Colonel ran back and called out all his men. Provided with drums, sheets of metal and tin cans, they surrounded the thicket, and closed in with a great noise, while the Colonel kept watch at the place where the animal would probably come out. Quite right—there he came, huge and fierce, angry at being disturbed. He came forward slowly, halting frequently, and looking around. His attention was so taken up by the noise that he did not notice the sportsman. When he was about thirteen yards off the Colonel raised his double-barrelled rifle. The lion heard the movement, struck his front claws into the ground, drew back on to his hind paws as though to gather himself up for a spring, and snarled wickedly, showing his murderous fangs. Then the Colonel took aim at the head, pressed the trigger, and—the rifle missed fire!

Fortunately the lion turned at that moment to go back into the thicket, and the other shot had no effect but to call forth a furious roar and hasten his flight. The untrustworthy gun had been borrowed for the occasion, and after this the Colonel determined to rely on his own weapon.

The ass lay still untouched. A platform twelve feet high was erected on poles close to the carcase, and on this the Colonel took up his position at sunset. The twilight is very short on the equator, and the night soon grows dark when there is no moon. The nights in Africa's jungles are silent with an evil-foreboding and awesome silence, which conceals so many ambushes and costs so many lives. The inhabitants of the jungle may expect an ambush at any moment. The lonely Colonel waited, gripping his rifle hard. He relates himself that he felt more and more anxious as time went on. He knew that the lion would come to feed on the ass, for no cry of distress was heard from the adjacent camps.

Hist! that sounds like a small twig breaking under a weight. Now it sounds like a large body crushing through the bushes. Then all is quiet again. No, a deep breath, a sure sign of hunger, betrays the proximity of the monster. A terrible roar breaks the stillness of the night. The lion has perceived the presence of a man. Will he fly? No, far from it, he scorns the ass and makes for the Colonel. For two hours he prowls about the platform in gradually diminishing circles. Now the lion has matured his plan of attack, and goes straight towards the platform for the decisive spring. The animal is just perceptible against the sandy ground. When he is quite close the first shot thunders through the night, the lion utters a frightened roar and plunges into the nearest bushes. He writhes, and bellows, and moans, but the sounds grow weaker, till after a few long-drawn breaths all is quiet again. The first man-eater has met his fate.

Before the dawn of day the workmen came out with trumpets and drums, and, with shouts of rejoicing, carried the lion-killer round the dead animal. The other lion continued his visits, and when he too bit the dust a short time after, the men could quietly resume their work on the railway, and the Colonel, who had freed the neighbourhood from a scourge that had troubled it for nine months, became a general hero. The foreman composed a grand song in his honour, and presented a valuable testimonial from all the men.

One day he dined with the postmaster Ryall in a railway carriage, little suspecting the fate that was to befall the latter in the same carriage a few months later. A man-eating lion had chosen a small station for his hunting-ground, and had carried off one man after another without distinction of rank and worth. Ryall travelled with two other Europeans up to the place to try and rid it of the lion. On their arrival they were told that the animal could not be far away, for it had been quite recently in the neighbourhood of the station. The three Europeans resolved to watch all night. Ryall's carriage was taken off the train and drawn on to a siding. Here the ground had not been levelled, so the carriage was tilted a little to one side. After dinner they were to keep watch in turns, and Ryall took the first watch. There was a sofa on either side of the carriage, one of them higher above the floor than the other. Ryall offered these to his guests, but one of them preferred to lie on the floor between the sofas. And when Ryall thought he had watched long enough without seeing the lion, he lay down to rest on the lower sofa.

The carriage had a sliding door which slipped easily in its grooves, and was unfastened. When all was quiet the lion crept out of the bush, jumped on to the rear platform of the carriage, opened the door with his paws, and slipped in. But scarcely had he entered, when the door, in consequence of the slope of the carriage, slid to again and latched itself. And thus the man-eater was shut in with the three sleeping men.

The sleeper on the higher sofa, awakened by a sharp cry of distress, saw the lion, which filled up most of the small space, standing with his hind legs on the man lying on the floor, and his forepaws on Ryall, on the lower sofa on the opposite side. He jumped down in a fright to try and reach the opposite door, but could not get past without putting his foot on the back of the lion. To his horror, he found that the servant, who had been alarmed by the noise, was leaning against the door outside; but, putting forth all his strength, he burst open the door and slipped out, whereupon it banged to again. At the same moment a loud crash was heard. The lion had sprung through the window with Ryall in his mouth, and as the aperture was too small, he had splintered the woodwork like paper. The remains of the man were found next day and buried. Shortly after the lion was caught in a trap, and was exhibited for several days before being shot.