They were armed with double-rifles,
let them off hastily as the beast started at them from two
hundred yards, and never got another chance. If they had
possessed the experience to have waited until the lion had come
within fifty yards they would have had the almost certainty of
four barrels at close range. Though I have seen a lion missed
clean well inside those limits.
>From such performances are so-called lion accidents built. During
my stay in Africa I heard of six white men being killed by lions,
and a number of others mauled. As far as possible I tried to
determine the facts of each case. In every instance the trouble
followed either foolishness or loss of nerve. I believe I should
be quite safe in saying that from identically the same
circumstances any of the good lion men-Tarleton, Lord Delamere,
the Hills, and others-would have extricated themselves unharmed.
This does not mean that accidents may not happen. Rifles jam, but
generally because of flurried manipulation! One may unexpectedly
meet the lion at too close quarters; a foot may slip, or a
cartridge prove defective. So may one fall downstairs or bump
one's head in the dark. Sufficient forethought and alertness and
readiness would go far in either case to prevent bad results.
The wounded beast, of course, offers the most interesting problem
to the lion hunter. If it sees the hunter, it is likely to charge
him at once. If hit while making off, however, it is more apt to
take cover. Then one must summon all his good sense and nerve to
get it out. No rules can be given for this; nor am I trying to
write a text book for lion hunters. Any good lion hunter knows a
lot more about it than I do. But always a man must keep in mind
three things: that a lion can hide in cover so short that it
seems to the novice as though a jack-rabbit would find scant
concealment there; that he charges like lightning, and that he
can spring about fifteen feet. This spring, coming unexpectedly
from an unseen beast, is about impossible to avoid. Sheer luck
may land a fatal shot; but even then the lion will probably do
his damage before he dies. The rush from a short distance a good
quick shot ought to be able to cope with.
Therefore the wise hunter assures himself of at least twenty
feet-preferably more-of neutral zone all about him. No matter
how long it takes, he determines absolutely that the lion is not
within that distance. The rest is alertness and quickness.
As I have said, the amount of cover necessary to conceal a lion
is astonishingly small. He can flatten himself out surprisingly;
and his tawny colour blends so well with the brown grasses that
he is practically invisible. A practised man does not, of course,
look for lions at all. He is after unusual small patches,
especially the black ear tips or the black of the mane. Once
guessed at, it is interesting to see how quickly the hitherto
unsuspected animal sketches itself out in the cover.
I should, before passing on to another aspect of the matter,
mention the dangerous poisons carried by the lion's claws. Often
men have died from the most trivial surface wounds. The grooves
of the claws carry putrefying meat from the kills. Every sensible
man in a lion country carries a small syringe, and either
permanganate or carbolic. And those mild little remedies he uses
full strength!
The great and overwhelming advantage is of course with the
hunter. He possesses as deadly a weapon: and that weapon will
kill at a distance. This is proper, I think. There are more lions
than hunters; and, from our point of view, the man is more
important than the beast. The game is not too hazardous. By that
I mean that, barring sheer accident, a man is sure to come out
all right provided he does accurately the right thing. In other
words, it is a dangerous game of skill, but it does not possess
the blind danger of a forest in a hurricane, say. Furthermore, it
is a game that no man need play unless he wants to. In the lion
country he may go about his business-daytime business-as though
he were home at the farm.
Such being the case, may I be pardoned for intruding one of my
own small ethical ideas at this point, with the full realization
that it depends upon an entirely personal point of view. As far
as my own case goes, I consider it poor sportsmanship ever to
refuse a lion-chance merely because the advantages are not all in
my favour. After all, lion hunting is on a different plane from
ordinary shooting: it is a challenge to war, a deliberate seeking
for mortal combat. Is it not just a little shameful to pot old
felis leo at long range, in the open, near his kill, and wherever
we have him at an advantage-nine times, and then to back out
because that advantage is for once not so marked? I have so often
heard the phrase, "I let him (or them) alone. It was not good
enough," meaning that the game looked a little risky.
Do not misunderstand. I am not advising that you bull ahead into
the long grass, or that alone you open fire on a half dozen lions
in easy range. Kind providence endowed you with strategy, and
certainly you should never go in where there is no show for you
to use your weapon effectively. But occasionally the odds will be
against you and you will be called upon to take more or less of a
chance.
