In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Chapter Fourteen.

Stanley gains Credit among the Natives as a Lion-Killer.

Again during the night the roar of the lion was heard. It put Stanley in a perfect fever; but David persuaded him not to go out and attempt to shoot the creature, as he was completely knocked up by the exertion of the previous days. The rest of us employed our time in collecting the prickly-pear for fortifying our post, as David had proposed. It was no easy matter, however, to cut the plants down.

“If we were to throw a rope over them, and draw the leaves on one side, we might do it,” said Natty. “A good suggestion,” I observed.

We carried it out. While the grown-up members of the party cut down the armed plants, the boys with ropes dragged them in large bundles up to the camp, round which we began to form with them a broad belt. It was hard work; but as there were numerous plants growing about, we had not far to go. We were encouraged to persevere by the assurance that our fortress would thus be almost impregnable to the attacks of wild animals. We yet further secured it by driving in stakes pointed at both ends outside the belt, which thus answered the purpose of a dry ditch, only it was more difficult even than a ditch would have been for unprotected feet to cross over.

At daylight next morning we continued our work, and had made considerable progress before the heat of the sun compelled us for a time to knock off. We had three fires lighted in the centre of our yard, and this probably prevented the lion making another attack, which he might otherwise have done. I was now so far recovered that I was able to accompany David and the boys on short shooting excursions. Although I never took pleasure in slaughtering animals for mere sport, yet it was necessary to kill them for the sake of supplying ourselves with food. The hills above the house swarmed with rock-rabbits, with which we could at all times plentifully supply our table. I had gone out the following morning with the two boys, keeping, of course, a careful look-out, lest a lion might still be in the neighbourhood, when Leo cried out, pointing to a rock above us—

“See, see! what a curious lump of feathers is up there!”

“What you suppose to be a lump of feathers has, I suspect, a head and wings and claws attached to them,” said David. “If I mistake not, that is a bacha, a sort of falcon. Probably he is on the look-out for rock-rabbits, and he is hiding his head between his shoulders and crouching down that they may not discover him, but his sharp eyes are watching every movement of his prey. Before long, if we remain quiet, we shall see him pounce down on one of them should they venture out of their holes. The Dutch, I remember, call these rock-rabbits klipdachs. Poor creatures, they have good reason to be on their guard against the bacha. While he is there we are not likely to get a shot at one, for, cunning as he is, depend upon it some of the older ones have found out that he is in the neighbourhood.”

We watched for some time. Now and then we saw a klipdach pop out of its hole, but presently draw back again, having caught sight of its powerful foe. Now another would come out, but hide away in its cave very quickly. Still the bacha remained without moving. He knew that in time the poor silly little klipdachs would grow careless, and, anxious for a game at play, would get too far from their homes to skip back before he could be down upon them. Presently what David said took place. First one klipdach appeared, and then another began running about or nibbling the grass close to the rocks, but it was clear that they were watching the bacha all the time. Still he did not move, and they began to run further and further out into the open ground. Then two or three came out together, and began leaping and frisking about. Presently the hitherto immovable bacha leaped off the rock, spreading wide its huge wings, and like a flash of lightning from a thunder-cloud darted down on a klipdach on which it had fixed its keen eye. In vain the unfortunate klipdach attempted to leap away. The bacha had cunningly noted the road it came. In an instant it was in its claws, the poor little creature screaming with terror. So rapid was its flight, that even if we had wished it we could not have killed the bird. Off it went to the pinnacle of the rock from whence it had descended, and there began tearing its prey, which, happily, it soon must have put out of pain. Though we waited some minutes, not another klipdach appeared, and we had to go on some considerable way before we again caught sight of any of the little creatures.

“Well,” said David, “I do not know that it can matter much to the poor klipdachs whether they are shot by us or caught by the bacha, but at all events we will put them out of their suffering as soon as possible. Yet I do not think we ought to throw stones at him. He follows his nature, we follow ours.”