"All Four Askaris Then Came Forward And
Lifted My Husband Back On To The Bed.
He was
quite dead.
We had hardly got back into the
tent before the lion returned and prowled about
in front of the door, showing every intention of
springing in to recover his prey. The askaris
fired at him, but did no damage beyond
frightening him away again for a moment or two. He
soon came back and continued to walk round
the tent until daylight, growling and purring,
and it was only by firing through the tent
every now and then that we kept him out. At
daybreak he disappeared and I had my husband's
body carried here, while I followed with the
children until I met you."
Such was Mrs. O'Hara's pitiful story. The
only comfort we could give her was to assure
her that her husband had died instantly and
without pain; for while she had been resting
Dr. Rose had made a post-mortem examination
of the body and had come to this conclusion.
He found that O'Hara had evidently been lying
on his back at the time, and that the lion, seizing
his head in its mouth, had closed its long tusks
through his temples until they met again in the
brain. We buried him before nightfall in a
peaceful spot close by, the doctor reading the
funeral service, while I assisted in lowering the
rude coffin into the grave. It was the saddest
scene imaginable. The weeping widow, the
wondering faces of the children, the gathering
gloom of the closing evening, the dusky forms of
a few natives who had gathered round - all
combined to make a most striking and solemn ending
to a very terrible tragedy of real life.
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