So he managed
to reach the door in safety; but there, to his
dismay, he found that it was held fast on the
other side by the terrified coolies, who had been
aroused by the disturbance caused by the lion's
entrance. In utter desperation he made frantic
efforts to open it, and exerting all his strength
at last managed to pull it back sufficiently far to
allow him to squeeze through, when the trembling
coolies instantly tied it up again with their
turbans. A moment afterwards a great crash was
heard, and the whole carriage lurched violently to
one side; the lion had broken through one of the
windows, carrying off poor Ryall with him. Being
now released, Parenti lost no time in jumping
through the window on the opposite side of the
carriage, and fled for refuge to one of the station
buildings; his escape was little short of miraculous,
as the lion had been actually standing on him as
he lay on the floor. The carriage itself was badly
shattered, and the wood-work of the window had
been broken to pieces by the passage of the lion
as he sprang through with his victim in his
mouth.
All that can be hoped is that poor Ryall's death
was instantaneous. His remains were found next
morning about a quarter of a mile away in the
bush, and were taken to Nairobi for burial. I
am glad to be able to add that very shortly
afterwards the terrible brute who was responsible
for this awful tragedy was caught in an ingenious
trap constructed by one of the railway staff. He
was kept on view for several days, and then
shot.
CHAPTER XXVI
WORK AT NAIROBI
Although the lion which caused poor Bhoota's
death was the last I managed to shoot in East
Africa, I saw several others afterwards while
travelling up and down the line at different times
on construction work. In particular, I remember
one very curious incident which happened early
on the morning of June 2, when I was travelling
towards Nairobi, accompanied by Dr. McCulloch.
The Doctor was going home on leave in the
course of a few days, and was bemoaning to me
his bad luck in never having shot or even seen a
lion all the time he had been in the country. We
were standing on the engine at the time, facing
each other, he with his back to the north.
"My dear Mac," I said, "it is because you
don't look out for them."
"Rubbish," he retorted; "I do nothing else
when I am out hunting."
"Well," I replied, "are you really very anxious
to shoot one before you go home?"
"I would rather get a lion than anything else
in the world," was the emphatic reply.
