It was but an incident, but it served as an uncanny reminder of the many
eyes of the animal world, which, though unseen, are often watching
travellers in these solitudes. Another night, when we were encamped in
the very heart of a rumoured "lion country," ourselves and our beasts
securely protected by an unusually high and thick "skerm," we were, to
our regret, left undisturbed; but the aforementioned Scotch cart, which
rumbled away from the sleeping camp about midnight, had a series of
adventures with _Leo felis_. Sniffing the fat oxen, no less than three
lions followed the waggon all night, charging close up at times, and
finally causing the oxen to stampede, in consequence of which, instead
of finding the precious vehicle, containing grain for carriers and
forage for horses, at the next outspan, we did not come up with it till
evening, nearly thirty miles farther on, when we learnt the adventures
it had had.
The truth regarding lion-shooting in these parts is, that the animals
are exceedingly difficult to locate, and the finding of them is a matter
of pure luck. The traveller may, of course, meet a lion on the road by
broad daylight; but many experienced hunters, who count their slain
lions by the dozen, will tell you they were years in the country before
they ever saw the kings of beasts, and these are men who do not belittle
the danger incurred in hunting them.
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