In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

One day I had gone to the ant-hill in search of mushrooms, when I saw a troop of gnus coming across the plain. As they advanced towards me I remained stationary, hiding myself from them by the hill. I got my rifle ready to fire, earnestly hoping that my aim would be steady. On came the herd, frisking and prancing, till they got within thirty yards of where I lay concealed. They scented danger, I fancied, for they began to look about, and seemed ready to dart off in an opposite direction. I selected the nearest, and fired. I could scarcely say how delighted I was when over rolled the creature. He got up, however, and even then would, I was afraid, escape me. I dashed forward, and drawing my axe, struck him on one of the hind-legs. Down he fell, and in another instant I had deprived him of life. I now understood the feelings of a famished hunter. Without a moment’s delay I began to cut up the animal, and loaded myself with as much of the best parts of the meat as I could carry. The remainder I left for the birds and beasts of prey, and hurried back with my prize to Natty. I selected as much as I thought we could consume while it remained eatable. The rest I cut into thin strips, and hung them up to the boughs outside our cavern. Natty meantime made up a fire, with which we roasted a good portion. I felt no longer surprised at the way I had seen the blacks feed, so ravenous did the smell of the roasted meat make me.

“Don’t you think that if we were to smoke some flesh it would keep longer?” observed Natty.

I followed his suggestion, and from the way it dried I was in hopes that the experiment would be successful. I was about to return for the remainder of the meat, to dry it in this way, when the rein came down.

Notwithstanding the more substantial food Natty had now got, he was still too weak to walk any distance. The flesh of the gnu, with the honey and mushrooms, enabled us to subsist in tolerable plenty for a week. The portions I had smoked and dried, at the end of that time became almost uneatable, and I saw that I must succeed in killing another animal, or that we should starve. That night I was awaked from sleep by hearing a low cry of distress. The dreadful thought seized me that a hyena had come into our cavern and carried off Natty. I anxiously put out my hands, and to my relief found that he was on his bed, breathing quietly. Then I thought that he must have cried out in his sleep. But again that low wail of distress reached my ears. It is some human being, I thought to myself, attacked by wild beasts, or fallen into a lagoon; indeed, it sounded exactly like the cry of a person in danger of drowning. Perhaps it may be one of our friends come in search of us. Again it came through the night air. I could bear it no longer, for I was certain that a fellow-creature was in danger. I awoke Natty. “Do not be alarmed,” I said; “I hear some one calling for help. I must go out and see what I can do, but I will be back presently. Remain quiet till my return!” Seizing my rifle, and feeling the lock to ascertain that it was all right, I hurried out in the direction from whence the sounds came. Again that plaintive cry reached my ear. I thought I heard the very words,—“Come, come! Help, help!” I dashed forward, for I knew the ground thoroughly. It could not be a person drowning, for there was no lagoon in that direction. As I advanced the wails became lower and lower, and sobs alone reached me. I was afraid that I was too late to render help. Presently, bending down, to be more certain of the direction I should take, I saw against the dark sky the outline of a lion. His claws were on his prey, and his tail was moving round. “He has killed the man, I fear,” I thought. Still, regardless of the danger I was running, and urged by an impulse I could not resist, I rushed forward, ready to fire should the lion advance towards me. I shouted at the top of my voice. I went on till I was within a dozen yards of the brute, and then once more raised a loud and determined shout. As I did so he turned his head, and then uttering a loud growl, slowly stalked away, and disappeared behind some bushes at a little distance. I hurried to the spot he had quitted, but instead of a human being, I saw before me an animal stretched lifeless on the ground. On feeling the head, I discovered that it had no horns, and then, taking one of the hoofs in my hand, I found that it was either a zebra or quagga. To leave it there would be to ensure its being carried off by its destroyer. I therefore set to work as well as I could in the dark, and cut off the flesh, looking up cautiously every minute, as may be supposed, to ascertain whether the lion was coming back to reclaim his prey. The necessity of obtaining food only could have induced me to run so terrible a risk, for I could scarcely suppose that the monarch of the woods would allow me thus before his face to carry off his prize. He did not appear, however. I supposed that, never having before encountered a human being, he was more alarmed by my appearance than I had been by his. Perhaps he took me for a gorilla, which the lion is said to hold in wholesome fear.

I now hastened back to Natty. The lion must have returned and carried off the portions I left him, for the next morning not a particle of the zebra could I discover. Still, it was not pleasant to know that he was in our neighbourhood. I treated the flesh of the zebra as I had done that of the gnu, although it was not quite so palatable.

The following day we were seated at our dinner, when, looking out, I saw a troop of zebras trotting by, stopping occasionally to feed, and then again moving on. I remarked especially a young zebra following them at a short distance. They passed close to the thicket in which I had seen the lion disappear. “If the old fellow is there,” I observed to Natty, “I should not be surprised were he to rush out and seize one of them.” Scarcely had I spoken when the whole herd began frisking about, and scampering here and there. Just then I heard a loud roar, and, as I had been surmising might possibly occur, out dashed a grey old lion towards the little zebra. I had instinctively seized my rifle. “You shall not kill that pretty little beast if I can help it,” I exclaimed. But the lion seemed determined that he would do so in spite of me. In another instant he was up to the zebra, and had struck him with one of his paws, which threw it staggering some paces from me. He was evidently, I saw, an old fellow, unable to leap as a young lion does. I ran forward, and before he had again come up with the little zebra, I had levelled my rifle and fired. The

ball hit him in the head, and over he rolled. Greatly to my astonishment, the little zebra, instead of attempting to escape, rose to his feet, and, looking at me for a moment, came trotting towards me. “I am sure I know you,” I exclaimed. “You are Bella’s little pet.” The poor little creature was very much hurt, but not, I hoped, maimed altogether. From the way he came up to me, I had not the slightest doubt that my conjecture was right; for when I held out my hand, he put his nose into it, and seemed to recognise me as a friend. He looked very thin, but as I examined him I was sure that he was an old acquaintance. The lion, meantime, giving a few struggles, fell over perfectly dead. Putting my handkerchief round the zebra’s neck, I led him up to our tree. Great was Natty’s delight at seeing him.

“O Andrew,” he exclaimed, “now there is a way for us to rejoin our friends. Though you cannot carry me so far, Zebra, I am sure, can; and as soon as he is well, we will set out.”

As there was ample room for the little animal inside our cavern, I brought him in, and closed the entrance. Having washed his side, I bound it up with a handkerchief, when the bleeding stopped. The rain had brought up an abundance of grass. I went out and cut some, which he readily ate out of my hand. Having done this, I went back to examine the lion. I found the mane thickly streaked with grey; and on examining his huge mouth, I discovered that the teeth were completely worn away, while his claws were broken and blunted. This accounted for the escape of the little zebra I had heard that when lions in their old age can no longer kill the prey to which they have been accustomed, they lie in wait for the young of animals, or take to robbing the poultry-yards of the natives, attacking their goats, and sometimes, indeed, try to carry off women and children. It was the consciousness, probably, of his weakness which made the old fellow so easily render up his prey to me on a former occasion. In spite of his age and probable toughness, I was tempted to see if I could get any steaks out of him, to form a supply of food should our stock of meat not be sufficient to last us till we could get home. I cut off a few pounds; but the smell of the flesh at last made me desist, thinking that neither Natty nor I would be able to eat it, either smoked or dried. I had thrown it down, indeed, but still I thought it might be wiser to secure some; so I took up what I had cut off, and returned with it to the tree. Without telling Natty, I lighted a fire, and cutting it into strips, hung it up to the branches, so that it might be thickly enveloped in smoke. By giving the little zebra plenty of grass, in three or four days he had entirely recovered from his injury. Natty also said that he felt better, and was sure he could undertake the journey homeward.