Our elusive foes, and took up my
position in a crib made of sleepers which I had
built on a big girder close to a camp which I
thought was likely to be attacked. Soon after
settling down at my post, I was surprised to
hear the man-eaters growling and purring and
crunching up bones about seventy yards from
the crib. I could not understand what they had
found to eat, as I had heard no commotion in the
camps, and I knew by bitter experience that
every meal the brutes obtained from us was
announced by shrieks and uproar. The only
conclusion I could come to was that they had
pounced upon some poor unsuspecting native
traveller. After a time I was able to make out
their eyes glowing in the darkness, and I took as
careful aim as was possible in the circumstances
and fired; but the only notice they paid to the
shot was to carry off whatever they were
devouring and to retire quietly over a slight
rise, which prevented me from seeing them.
There they finished their meal at their ease.
As soon as it was daylight, I got out of my
crib and went towards the place where I had last
heard them. On the way, whom should I meet
but my missing guest, Mr. Whitehead, looking
very pale and ill, and generally dishevelled.
"Where on earth have you come from?"
I exclaimed. "Why didn't you turn up to dinner
last night?"
"A nice reception you give a fellow when
you invite him to dinner," was his only reply.
"Why, what's up?" I asked.
"That infernal lion of yours nearly did for
me last night," said Whitehead.
"Nonsense, you must have dreamed it!" I
cried in astonishment.
For answer he turned round and showed me
his back. "That's not much of a dream, is
it?" he asked.
His clothing was rent by one huge tear from
the nape of the neck downwards, and on the
flesh there were four great claw marks, showing
red and angry through the torn cloth. Without
further parley, I hurried him off to my tent, and
bathed and dressed his wounds; and when I had
made him considerably more comfortable, I got
from him the whole story of the events of the night.
It appeared that his train was very late, so that
it was quite dark when he arrived at Tsavo
Station, from which the track to my camp lay
through a small cutting. He was accompanied
by Abdullah, his sergeant of askaris, who walked
close behind him carrying a lighted lamp. All
went well until they were about half-way through
the gloomy cutting, when one of the lions
suddenly jumped down upon them from the high
bank, knocking Whitehead over like a ninepin,
and tearing his back in the manner I had seen.
Fortunately, however, he had his carbine with
him, and instantly fired. The flash and the loud
report must have dazed the lion for a second or
two, enabling Whitehead to disengage himself;
but the next instant the brute pounced like
lightning on the unfortunate Abdullah, with
whom he at once made off. All that the poor
fellow could say was: "Eh, Bwana, simba"
(" Oh, Master, a lion "). As the lion was dragging
him over the bank, Whitehead fired again,
but without effect, and the brute quickly disappeared
into the darkness with his prey. It was
of course, this unfortunate man whom I had heard
the lions devouring during the night. Whitehead
himself had a marvellous escape; his wounds
were happily not very deep, and caused him little
or no inconvenience afterwards.
On the same day, December 3, the forces
arrayed against the lions were further
strengthened. Mr. Farquhar, the Superintendent of
Police, arrived from the coast with a score of
sepoys to assist in hunting down the man-eaters,
whose fame had by this time spread far and
wide, and the most elaborate precautions were
taken, his men being posted on the most
convenient trees near every camp. Several other
officials had also come up on leave to join in
the chase, and each of these guarded a likely
spot in the same way, Mr. Whitehead sharing
my post inside the crib on the girder. Further,
in spite of some chaff, my lion trap was put in
thorough working order, and two of the sepoys
were installed as bait.
Our preparations were quite complete by nightfall,
and we all took up our appointed positions.
Nothing happened until about nine o'clock, when
to my great satisfaction the intense stillness
was suddenly broken by the noise of the door
of the trap clattering down. "At last," I thought,
"one at least of the brutes is done for." But the
sequel was an ignominious one.
The bait-sepoys had a lamp burning inside their
part of the cage, and were each armed with
a Martini rifle, with plenty of ammunition. They
had also been given strict orders to shoot at once
if a lion should enter the trap. Instead of doing
so, however, they were so terrified when he rushed
in and began to lash himself madly against the
bars of the cage, that they completely lost their
heads and were actually too unnerved to fire.
Not for some minutes - not, indeed, until Mr.
Farquhar, whose post was close by, shouted at
them and cheered them on - did they at all
recover themselves. Then when at last they did
begin to fire, they fired with a vengeance -
anywhere, anyhow. Whitehead and I were at
right angles to the direction in which they should
have shot, and yet their bullets came whizzing all
round us. Altogether they fired over a score of
shots, and in the end succeeded only in blowing
away one of the bars of the door, thus allowing
our prize to make good his escape.
