Part 8
Moffat, Lichtenstein, Freeman, Rath, Galton, say with W. C. Kerr (“The Far Interior”) that “when a lion is thoroughly hungry there is no limit to his audacity and daring.” Every being must have _some_ incitement to action, and those motives which are most powerful with lions appear to be anger and appetite.
Postponing for the moment his relations with mankind, let us see what kinds of game the lion is accustomed to prey upon. No coercion can be exercised in this direction. Actual starvation might take away liberty of choice, but, as a rule, it must be admitted that a selection of this kind is significant of the opinion which an animal has of its own powers, as it also is of its boldness. The giraffe, which lions occasionally kill, is entirely defenceless: so with elands and all antelopes. This is likewise the case with those domestic animals which are devoured. It has been said that the elephant is sometimes attacked, but this is one of those stories which only display the ignorance of those who propagate them. The black and white rhinoceros is never assailed, although Delgorgue actually refers to the latter, a beast second only to the elephant in size and most formidably armed, as if it were commonly destroyed. “_Maintes fois trouvai-je des rhinocéros de la plus haute taille, que ni leur poids, ni leur force, ni leur fureur, n’avaient pu préserver de la mort._” If anything were needed to set off this pleasant statement, it could be found in Delgorgue’s roundly declared opinion that lions are all “abject cowards.”
But in Africa the lion constantly preys upon the buffalo, and without going so far as Andersson in saying that he principally lives on this species, the fact that it is continually killed is beyond question. Many famous hunters suppose that an African buffalo is the most dangerous creature to be found on the “Dark Continent.” It is of immense size and strength, active, brave, and fierce.
No account is known to the writer of a single lion that was seen to slay a full-grown buffalo, and several authorities doubt whether this be possible. The latter have, however, often been shot while bearing the scars of combats with one or more lions. According to the evidence as it exists, the case stands in this way. One lion may attack a buffalo, it is impossible to say whether he will or not; two of them certainly do so, and the battles that ensue are of the most desperate description. It is known, also, that these conflicts do not always end in favor of the assailants.
“The lion kills only for food,” says Major Leveson, meaning that in mature life he does not commit useless murders, or show the same love of blood for its own sake as some other members of his family. Without doubt, this animal is not sanguinary when compared with a panther or puma, but it is quite as likely that he is restrained from unnecessary carnage by economic views, as by any sentiment of generosity or mercy.
A lion when surprised does not usually dash away incontinently; if his retreat is not interfered with, and he has learned that firearms are more effective than his own weapons of offence, he falls back slowly. When so placed that they cannot escape, some lions die like curs, but the majority of accounts represent them as perishing gallantly. Such is the case also when for any reason the creature has resolved to fight. Then it seems to make no difference to him how many foes he encounters. Numerous narratives very similar in detail have been written by different observers of such scenes. No other wild beast confronts a body of armed men after his manner. That last parade in face of a horde of savages beneath whose assagais he is about to die, is so striking that false inferences from the sight can scarcely be avoided. It is not the “deliberate valor” of Milton we see, nor even heroic despair; it is nothing perhaps with which humanity in its nobler emotions can sympathize; but it looks as if it were, and men have yielded to their feelings and believed that it was. “Life,” says Professor Robinson, “has but one end for a lion--enjoyment. He is incapable of forgetting that he is only a huge cat, or flying in the face of nature by pretending to be anything else.... He makes no claim to invincible courage; on the contrary, he prefers, as a rule, to enjoy life rather than to die heroically. But when death is inevitable, he is always heroic, or even when danger presses him too closely ... a lion in the shadow of death remains a lion still.”
All things being equal, lions conduct themselves towards mankind according to the suggestions of the time being and their previous experiences. One that had just eaten an antelope might pass by a man; another might kill him. The former, by all accounts, is the more likely to occur, and it is said that Bushmen and other natives can tell by the voice whether he is full or fasting; and in the first case have no fear that he will become aggressive without provocation. When forbearance is not a matter of repletion, it is no doubt, in some measure, the result of sloth. A lion never does anything he can avoid doing.
Baker’s story of the lion that met a Nubian sheik with two companions, and tore the leader to pieces, is one of a great number of instances that might be brought forward to show that wherever these animals are not conscious of being put entirely at a disadvantage by superiority of arms, they display little of that fear of man which is commonly attributed to them. Poorly-armed tribes are under no such delusion. The Ouled Meloul, or Ouled Cassi Arabs whose _douars_ were attacked would have been as difficult to persuade of the lion’s timidity towards mankind, as those Makubas on the Ghobe, or “the miserable Bakorus,” whom he devoured at his good pleasure. Dr. Schweinfurth (“The Heart of Africa”) was at an Egyptian garrison where the soldiers were carried off from within their own lines night after night. Moffat, Delgorgue, Livingstone, Cumming, all record incidents of what they call his “desperate attacks.” Still, and as if to show what it is possible for men to commit themselves to when writing about wild beasts, we have Burchell’s opinion (“Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa”).
This author, according to his own account, spent four years in a lion country, and saw but one during the whole of this time. That one was accidentally encountered on a journey, and they succeeded in shooting it through the body, upon which it drew off into the bushes and disappeared. Yet it is on the strength of an experience like this that Burchell says he has “no very high opinion of the lion’s courage.” Of course the reference has an appearance of being overstated, but whoever reads the bulky quartos in which these travels are written will find that such is not the case.
So much in the way of a review of Buffon’s general description.
It is easier, however, and safer to decide as to what lions are not, than to say what they are. Almost everything written upon this subject deals nearly to exclusion with the animal’s habits, and leaves its character untouched. Even in this respect also our information is not complete.
C. J. Andersson (“The Lion and the Elephant”) remarks that “the modes of life” belonging to “the Lord of the African Wilds” are not at all thoroughly known, and he expresses an opinion fully justified by facts to the effect that he has himself been able to bring together much information in this connection that “may not have been noticed by other travellers and sportsmen.” In making up a summary of what has gone before, the writer is much indebted to this valuable work.
We have no psychological scheme for lions, and must take their characteristics as they happen to present themselves, without any pretence at arrangement, based either upon their natural order or real importance. There is an account given in MS. to Lloyd, the editor of Andersson’s posthumous papers, that shows the character of the Indian lion in much the same light that his African congener has been placed by Baker, Drummond, etc.
“This beast was believed to have his lair in a patch of copse-wood where, from the jungle having been some years previously cut away by the natives for stakes and the like, the young trees had grown up again so close and tangled as to be almost impenetrable. But this patch was of no great extent, its area, perhaps, not exceeding that of Grosvenor Square. The other parts of the wood surrounding the tank were in a state of nature, consisting of bushes and timber trees.
“On reaching the ground, the natives were stationed in the trees thereabouts as markers. But it was not till the party had beaten the patch with their elephants for a considerable time that the lion was discovered to be on foot, and some further time elapsed before he was viewed as he was stealing away from the brake, along a sort of hedge-row, for the more open country beyond. Captain Delamaine, who was some forty or fifty paces from the beast, then fired, and wounded him severely in the body.
“On receiving the ball, the lion immediately faced about, and charged my elephant, but the nerves of the latter having been recently shaken by wounds received from a royal tiger, turned tail, and regularly bolted. In the scurry through the jungle, one of the guns, having been caught by a tree, fell from the howdah and was broken, a loss, as the sequel proved, that might have been attended with very disastrous consequences.”
But the lion soon gave up the chase, and retraced his steps to the patch whence he had been started. Here he was followed by Captain Harris alone, Delamaine’s elephant, from its late fright, having become too unsteady to be taken into thick cover.
“The Captain soon found and fired at the beast, which in its turn instantly sprang at, and made a fair lodgment on the head of his elephant, but the latter being a large and powerful animal, and accustomed to the _chasse_, almost immediately shook off its fierce assailant, who fell with violence on the ground.” This desperate mode of attack and reprisal was on both sides repeated in more than one instance, and this, moreover, within view of his companion, who, though prevented--for the reason mentioned--from taking part in the conflict, was, from the outside of the brake, intently watching the proceedings of his friend. After a time, whether because he left the patch, or from having concealed himself, the beast was no longer to be found.
“It was at the period of the monsoon, and just as the hunters were at fault, there came on a heavy shower of rain, when, principally for the sake of the guns, it was deemed best to retire for shelter to some trees in the more open country at a few hundred paces distance.
“The storm soon passed over, but being doubtful whether their guns might not be wet, it was thought advisable to discharge them. This was no sooner done, however, than the lion began to roar terribly, and continued doing so for some time, in the direction of the late scene of conflict, from which it was pretty evident, that, though they had been unable to find him in the patch, he had been harbored there the whole time.
“When reloaded, the party therefore returned to the brake, and were informed by one of the markers that on the report of the guns, the lion had rushed roaring from it into the more open country, evidently for the purpose of venting his rage on the first object that came across his path. On proceeding a little further they were hailed by another marker, who told them that the brute was crouched in a cluster of brambles, of a very limited extent, about twenty paces from the very tree in which he himself was perched.
“As the country was pretty open around the thicket in question, the sportsmen were able to reconnoitre it narrowly, and that without taking the elephants into the very thick of it, which was deemed unadvisable, as, had those animals come directly upon the lion, they might have been scared and rendered unmanageable. But the beast was not perceptible.
“From the cover being so limited in extent, it appeared to be almost an impossibility that the lion could be there, the rather that the elephants, so remarkable for their fine sense of smell, did not seem at all aware of his presence, and it was in consequence imagined that the man must be mistaken. But as he persisted in his story, it was determined to fire a shot into the thicket, which was accordingly done, though without any result.
“When a lion, that has been wounded and hotly pursued, has ‘lain up,’ or hidden himself, for a time, his position is generally known by his roaring, panting, or hard breathing; but in this instance there were no indications of the kind, which, coupled with the shot having failed of effect, confirmed their previous impression, and they were, therefore, on the point of moving off elsewhere.
“But as the marker continued asseverating from his tree that the brute was positively lying in the very brake near which they were standing, it was resolved to try another shot, which was fired by Captain Harris’ man, who was seated at the back of his master’s howdah.
“This had the desired effect, for the gun was hardly discharged, when the lion, with a tremendous roar, sprang up from his lurking-place, and in a second was once more on the head of Captain Harris’ elephant. But he was almost immediately shaken off, when he retreated to the same brake from which he had issued, and where, as before, he was no longer discernible.
“A shot was therefore directed towards the spot where he was supposed to be, and he again charged the Captain’s elephant, and on being dislodged trotted off towards the patch that harbored him in the first instance.
“During the _mêlée_ just described, Captain Delamaine, from an apprehension of hitting some one, had been deterred from firing; but as the lion was retreating he discharged both barrels of his double gun, and broke one of the hind legs of the beast.
“Upon receiving this wound the lion at once turned, and rushing at the elephant, sprang up on his hind quarters and fixed his fangs in the thick part of the tail. The poor animal perfectly screamed from the extreme torture, which was little to be wondered at, as this unfortunate appendage had only a week previously been severely lacerated by a huge tiger. The elephant now swayed to and fro to such a degree that his rider had some difficulty in retaining his seat in the howdah, and was much less able to take an accurate aim at the lion, which, screened as it was by the protruding rump of the elephant, would have been scarcely practicable. The Captain, besides, had only one barrel remaining, and it therefore behooved him to be most cautious that his last charge was not ineffectually expended.
“This trying scene continued for two or three minutes, during which Delamaine anxiously looked out for Captain Harris. But unluckily his elephant had been rendered unmanageable by the maltreatment it had itself received from the lion, and it was not, therefore, in his power to render aid to his friend.”
The appearance of the lion at this time, maddened as he was with pain and rage, is described as most awful.
“At length the beast’s long-continued attack on the elephant caused the poor animal evidently to give way and to sink behind, and had the affair continued a short time longer, there is no doubt it would have been on its haunches, and the rider at the mercy of the fierce assailant.
“Finding matters in this very critical state, it became necessary for him to risk everything. Leaning, therefore, over the back of the howdah, and clinging to it with one hand, he with the other discharged his rifle, a very heavy one, at the head of the lion (the piece at the time oscillating, or swinging, in a manner corresponding with the roll of the elephant), and as luck would have it, the ball, after crashing through the beast’s jawbone, subsequently traversed the whole length of its body.
“This caused the lion to let go his hold, and for a few seconds he appeared to be partially paralyzed, but recovering himself, he slowly retreated towards the thicker cover.”
Subsequently he was again attacked by the party, and in two or three instances charged them as gallantly as ever; but as he was always received with a heavy fire, an end was at length put to his existence.
There is no need to add much to what has been said of the effect produced by inherited and personal experience. Nobody denies that lions are possessed of intelligence, and this being the case, they learn to avoid known dangers, and to take advantage of those conditions which have previously proved favorable. If this and what it implies were not true, there could be but one reason for it, which is that the race was congenitally idiotic. Therefore to dispute about the lion’s courage as if there might be archetypal beasts differently endowed from those representatives of their species which naturally, and of necessity, vary in boldness with changing environments, appears to be a waste of time. Furthermore, the possession of power of any kind to a great degree determines its exercise, and it is impossible to suppose that an animal which, above all others, except the tiger, is specialized for violence, will not be blood-thirsty and aggressive.
Sir Samuel Baker appears to be the only writer, really an authority, who knows nothing authentic and has no personal cognizance of the forays of lions upon villages and camps. Delgorgue, Harris, Cumming, Andersson, and everybody else whose opportunities for observation have been at all extensive, recognize such incidents as perfectly well established. Indeed, taking the character of this beast and its situation into consideration, the only thing surprising about the matter would be that it had not done those things upon whose reality Baker seems to cast a doubt. Drummond relates a story in this connection, in the scenes of which he was himself an actor, and as many of those traits which have been discussed are well brought out in his narrative, it is given in full.
“In two cases I have been an accessory to the death of well-known man-eaters, one of which had almost depopulated a district.... The locality in which this one committed his depredations was in the northeast corner of Zululand, where a number of refugee Amaswazi had been located, and when I arrived they had continued for nearly a year, so that many villages were deserted, and all had more or less suffered; for the brute did not confine himself to any one in particular, nor come at any regular intervals, but so timed his visits that no one was sure of his or her life from day to day. No fastenings were of any use against him, as his immense strength enabled him to force an entrance if he could not find one ready made, while the outer ring-fence, of interwoven thorns, supported by strong posts, which guards all native villages, and is often of great height, offered no obstacle to his powers of jumping, a single bound being always sufficient to land him inside.
“He usually confined himself to killing a single individual, and would claw one out from under the blanket or skin under which, with covered heads, they cowered in terror on his arrival; but on the two or three occasions in which he had met with opposition, and when he had been wounded with assagais, he had killed every soul in the hut, and so dreadfully mangled them that their bodies almost defied recognition.
“I was staying at the villages for some weeks, first at one and then at another, as they suited the position of the game, or where I happened to find myself at night; but though I heard of the lion having attacked one either just before or just after I had been there, I never happened to meet it, and the ignorant natives became anxious for my presence, saying that their enemy feared to go where I was.
“This, however, was not destined to last. One sultry evening I arrived at the outermost village, having been forced to leave the spoor of a herd of elephants for want of ammunition, and being very tired, I determined to sleep at it, sending on two of my men to fetch some from the place which I made my headquarters. Tired as I was with my exertions on an unusually hot day, I soon fell asleep in the hut that had been given up to our use; but, as the heat was stifling, I was not at all surprised at being awakened towards midnight by a heavy thunderstorm, which crashed round us for half an hour or more. At last the hush came that always accompanies the tremendous rain which follows, and seems to quench such storms, broken only by the heavy splashing of big drops, and the gurgle of the water that flooded the ground, and I should soon have been asleep again had not a drop come splash into my face through the ill-thatched roof, almost immediately followed by a small stream, of which it had been the advanced guard. This necessitated my looking out for a drier spot, when suddenly out of the quiet of the descending rain, came such a confused clamor of shrieks and cries, of yelling and moaning, that until I heard the voice of the lion, I was utterly unable to account for it. This lasted for full half a minute, and then such a blood-curdling scream of mingled pain and despair came as I hope I may never hear again, and which haunted my dreams for many a month after.
“My men, and among them two old hunters, each of whom had killed several lions, shrunk crouching back to the further end of the hut, returning no answer to my words when I told them to come out with me and face the beast, though, as I opened the hut entrance, and looked out on the pitch darkness, it was evident how useless any such attempt would be. The death-yell we had heard was followed by silence for some time, during which the brute was probably departing with its victim, and the natives were still afraid of its return; then the usual noisy lamentations for the dead broke forth, and were continued without intermission until daylight, though I was so tired that, without expecting it, I fell asleep again, and did not wake any more that night.
“There was little to tell when morning did break. The lion had hit upon the most crowded hut of all, the one in which the people who had given place to us were sleeping in addition to its regular owners, and had picked out a young married woman, taking her from among several, without injuring any one else; as they said--‘a man does not stab more than one of his herd of cattle when he is hungry.’
“Previous to this, on my first arrival, the head man of the district had come and asked me whether I would assist him to destroy this brute, as, if so, he would turn out with all his people, and beat up the country until it was found; and in point of fact we had already done this, on the occasion of the chief’s uncle having been carried off; but the ground was so dry and hard then that our best spoorers failed to hit off the track. To-day, however, as the rain had ceased a few minutes after its departure, there could be no doubt about finding it, and as soon as I awoke I sent off to the chief to ask him to come with his men, saying that, whether he had arrived or not, I should take up the trail at nine o’clock.
“I did not at this time know that the woman who was the last victim was his relation, but when my messenger came back and told me so, adding that the chief was fearfully angry, it did not surprise me to hear that runners had been sent out already, and that he had threatened to drive out of the country any one old enough to carry a spear who remained behind, and that if I could wait until the sun had reached a certain part of the heavens (till about ten o’clock), he would join me.